FROM  THE- LIBRARY- OF 

A.   ''U   Ryder 


EaO% 


« 


The  Duel 

Original  Etching  by  Alfred  Hartley 


Illustrated  Sterling  edition 


Old  Mortality 


The  Black  Dwarf 


A  Legend  of  Montrose 


The  Surgeon's  Daughter 


BY 
SIR   WALTER   SCOTT,    BART. 


BOSTON 
DANA    ESTES    &    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


■^V^c  U;,V/3- 


•  •  .'.<•< 


fSSs 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


OLD  MORTALITY 

PAGB 

The  Duel Frontispiece 

Shooting  the  Popinjay 19 

Rout    and    Slaughter    of    the    Puritans    after    the 

Battle  of  Bothwell  Bridge 166 

Habbakuk  Mucklewrath  forward  to  the  Inner  Part 

OF  THE  Circle 202 

"HaLLIDAY     STUMBLED      INTO      THE      ROOM    .    .   .    PALE     AND 

ghastly" 346 


LEGEND   OF  MONTROSE 

Inverlochy  Castle 170 

The  Children  of  the  Mist 187 

Annot  Lyle,  Lord  Monteith,  and  Allan  McAulay     .  197 
The  Passage  of  the  Army  of  Montrose  during  Win- 

T£&  through  the  Passes  of  Strathfillan      .        .  308 


iyi29088 


%^i>H\/.i)U 


TO 

HIS  LOVING  COUNTRYMEN, 


THKY  ARE  DBNOMINATBD 
MEN  OF  THE  SOUTH, 
GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  NOBTH, 
PEOPLE   OF  THE  WEST, 

OR 

FOLK  OF  FIFE, 
THESE  TALES, 

ILLUSTRATIVE  OF  ANCIENT  SCOTTISH  MANNERS, 

AND  OF  THE 
TRADITIONS  OF  THEIR  RESPECTIVE  DISTRICTS, 
ARE  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED, 
BT  THKIR  FRIEND  AND  LIEGE  FELLOW-SUBJEOT, 

JEDEDIAH  CLEISHBOTHAM 


-ax5f  JD  Bjaasam, 


TALES    OF    MY    LANDLORD 


Hear,  Land  o'  Cakes  and  brither  Scots, 
Frae  Maidenkirk  to  Johnny  Groat's, 
If  there's  a  hole  in  a'  your  coats, 

I  rede  ye  tent  it ; 
A  ckiel's  amang  you  takin'  notes, 

An'  faith  he'll  prent  it  I 

Burns. 


Ahora  Men,  dixo  il  Cura,  traedme,  senor  huisped,  aquesos  libros, 
que  los  quiero  ver.  Que  me  place,  respondio  el,  y  entrando  en  su 
aposento,  saco  del  una  maletilla  vieja  cerrada  con  una  cadenilla,  y 
ahriendola  hallo  en  ella  tres  libros  grandes  y  unospapeles  de  muy 
buena  letra  escritos  de  mano. — Don  Quixote,  Parte  I. ,  Capitulo  xxxii. 

It  is  mighty  well,  said  the  priest ;  pray,  landlord,  bring  me  those 
books,  for  I  have  a  mind  to  see  them.  With  all  my  heart,  answered 
the  host ;  and  going  to  his  chamber,  he  brought  out  a  little  old  cloke- 
bag,  with  a  padlock  and  chain  to  it,  and  opening  it,  he  took  out  three 
large  rolumes,  and  son?  3  manuscript  papers  written  in  a  fine  char- 
acter.—J  arvis's  Translation. 


INTRODXTCTION  TO  OLD  MORTALrTT 


The  remarkable  person  called  by  the  title  of  Old  Mortality 
was  well  known  in  Scotland  about  the  end  of  the  last  century. 
His  real  name  was  Robert  Paterson.  He  was  a  native,  it  is 
said,  of  the  parish  of  Closeburn,  in  Dumfriesshire,  and  prob- 
ably a  mason  by  profession — at  least  educated  to  the  use  of 
the  chisel.  Whether  family  dissensions,  or  the  deep  and  en- 
thusiastic feeling  of  supposed  duty,  drove  him  to  leave  his 
dwelling,  and  adopt  the  singular  mode  of  life  in  which  he 
wandered,  like  a  palmer,  through  Scotland,  is  not  known.  It 
could  not  be  poverty,  however,  which  prompted  his  journeys, 
for  he  never  accepted  anything  beyond  the  hospitality  which 
was  willingly  rendered  him,  and  when  that  was  not  proffered, 
he  always  nad  money  enough  to  provide  for  his  own  humble 
wants.  His  personal  appearance,  and  favorite,  or  rather  sole, 
occupation,  are  accurately  described  in  the  preliminary  chapter 
of  the  following  work. 

It  is  about  thirty  years  since,  or  more,  that  the  Author  met 
this  singular  person  in  the  churchyard  of  Dunnottar,  when 
spending  a  day  or  two  with  the  late  learned  and  excellent 
clergyman,  Mr.  Walker,  the  minister  of  that  parish,  for  the 
purpose  of  a  close  examination  of  the  ruins  of  the  Castle  of 
Dunnottar,  and  other  subjects  of  antiquarian  research  in  that 
neighborhood.  Old  Mortality  chanced  to  be  at  the  same 
place,  on  the  usual  business  of  his  pilgrimage  ;  for  the  Castle 
of  Dunnottar,  though  lying  in  the  an ti-covenan ting  district  of 
the  Mearns,  was,  with  the  parish  churchyard,  celebrated  for 
the  oppressions  sustained  there  by  the  Cameronians  in  the 
time  of  James  II. 

It  was  in  1685,  when  Argyle  was  threatening  a  descent 
upon  Scotland,  and  Monmouth  was  preparing  to  invade  the 
west  of  England,  that  the  privy  council  of  Scotland,  with  cruel 
precaution,  made  a  general  arrest  of  more  than  a  hundred  per- 
sons in  the  southern  and  western  provinces,  supposed,  from 
their  religious  principles,  to  be  inimical  to  government,  to' 
gether  with  many  women  and  children.  These  captives  were 
driven  northward  like  a  flock  of  bullocks,  but  with  less  pre- 
caution to  provide  for  their  wants,  and  finally  penned  nj)  in 

is 


Z  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  subterranean  dungeon  in  the  Castle  of  Dunnottar,  having  m 
"window  opening  to  the  front  of  a  precipice  which  overhaCgs 
the  German  Ocean.     They  had  suffered  not  a  little  on  the 

i'ourney,  and  were  much  hurt  both  at  the  scoffs  of  the  northern 
?*relatists,  and  the  mocks,  gibes,  and  contemptuous  tunes 
played  by  the  fiddlers  and,  ^pipers  who  had  come  from  every 
quarter  as  they  passed,  to  triumph  over  the  revilers  of  their 
calling.  The  repose  which  the  melancholy  dungeon  afforded 
them  was  anything  but  undisturbed.  Th^  guards  made  them 
pay  for  every  indulgence,  even  that  of  water  ;  and  when  some 
of  the  prisoners  resisted  a  demand  so  unreasonable,  and  insisted 
on  their  right  to  have  this  necessary  of  life  untaxed,  their 
keepers  emptied  the  water  on  the  prison  floor,  saying,  **If 
they  were  obliged  to  bring  water  for  the  canting  Whigs,  they 
were  not  bound  to  afford  them  the  use  of  bowls  or  pitchers 
gratis.^' 

In  this  prison,  which  is  still  termed  the  Whigjs'  Vault, 
several  died  of  the  diseases  incidental  to  such  a  situation  ;  and 
others  broke  their  limbs,  and  incurred  fatal  injury,  in  des- 
perate attempts  to  escape  from  their  stern  prison-house.  Over 
the  graves  of  these  unhappy  persons,  their  friends,  after  the 
Revolution,  erected  a  monument  with  a  suitable  inscriptioli. 

This  peculiar  shrine  of  the  Whig  martyrs  is  very  much 
honored  by  their  descendants,  though  residing  at  a  great  dis- 
tance from  the  land  of  their  captivity  and  death.  My  friend, 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Walker,  told  me  that,  being  once  upon  a  tour 
in  the  south  of^cotland,  probably  about  forty  years  since,  he 
had  the  bad  luck  to  involve  himself  in  the  labyrinth  of  pas- 
sages and  tracks  which  cross,  in  every  direction,  the  extensive 
waste  called  Lochar  Moss,  near  Dumfries,  out  of  which  it  is 
scarcely  possible  for  a  stranger  to  extricate  himself  ;  and  there 
was  no  small  difficulty  in  procuring  a  guide,  since  such  peo- 
ple as  he  saw  were  engaged  in  digging  their  peats — a  work 
of  paramount  necessity,  which  will  hardly  brook  interruption. 
Mr.  Walker  could,  therefore,  only  procure  unintelligible  direc- 
tions in  the  southern  brogue,  which  differs  widely  from  that 
of  the  Mearns.  He  was  beginning  to  think  himself  in  a 
serious  dilemma,  when  he  stated  his  case  to  a  farmer  of  rather 
the  better  class,  who  was  employed,  as  the  otiiers,  in  digging 
his  winter  |uel.  The  old  man  at  first  made  the  same  excuse 
with  those  who  had  alreiidy  declined  acting  as  the  traveller's 
guide  ;  but  perceiving  him  in  great  perplexity,  and  paying 
the  respect  due  to  his  profession,  '^  You  are  a  clergyman,  sir  ? 
he  said.  Mr.  Walker  assented.  "  And  I  observe  from  your 
•  speech  that  you  are  from  the  north  ?"    **  You  are  right,  my 


INTRODUCTION  TO  OLD  MORTALITY  xi 

good  friend/*  was  the  reply.  ''  And  may  I  ask  if  yon  have 
ever  heard  of  a  place  called  Dnnnottar  ? ''  "I  onght to  know 
something  about  it,  my  friend/'  said  Mr.  Walker,  '*  since  I 
have  been  several  years  the  minister  of  the  parish.**  *'  I  am 
glad  to  hear  it,**  said  the  Dumfriesian,  "  for  one  of  my  near  rela- 
tions lies  buried  there,  and  there  is,  I  believe,  a  monument 
over  his  grave.  I  would  give  half  of  what  I  am  aught  to 
know  if  it  is  still  in  existence.*'  *'  He  was  one  of  those  who- 
perished  in  the  Whigs*  Vault  at  the  castle  ?  **  said  the  min- 
ister ;  ''  for  there  are  few  southlanders  besides  lying  in  our 
churchyard,  and  none,  I  think,  having  monuments.**  "  Even 
sae — even  sae,**  said  the  old  Cameronian,  for  such  was  the  far- 
mer. He  then  laid  down  his  spade,  cast  on  his  coat,  and  heart- 
ily offered  to  see  the  minister  out  of  the  moss,  if  he  should  lose 
the  rest  of  the  day's  dargue,  Mr.  Walker  was  able  to  requite 
him  amply,  in  his  opinion,  by  reciting  the  epitaph,  which  he 
remembered  by  heart.  The  old  man  was  enchanted  with  find- 
ing the  memory  of  his  grandfather  or  great-grandfather  faith- 
fully recorded  among  the  names  of  brother  sufferers  ;  and 
rejecting  all  other  offers  of  recompense,  only  requested,  after 
he  had  guided  Mr.  Walker  to  a  safe  and  dry  road,  that  he 
f would  let  him  have  a  written  copy  of  the  inscription. 

It  was.  while  I  was  listening  to  this  story,  and  looking  at 

.^  the  monument  referred  to,  that  I  saw  Old  Mortality  engaged 
i5,his  daily  task  of  cleaning  and  repairing  the  ornaments  and 

^    epitaphs  upon  the  tomb.      His  appearance  and  equipment 
were  exactly,  as  described  in  the  Novel.     I  was  very  desirous 

^  to  see  something  of  a  person  so  singular,  and  expected  to  have 
-done  so,  as  he  took  up  his  quarters  with  the  hospitable  and 
liberal -spirited  minister.  But  though  Mr.  Walker  invited 
him  up  after  dinner  to  partake  of  a  glass  of  spirits  and  water, 
to  which  he  was  supposed  not  to  be  very  averse,  yet  he  would 
not  speak  frankly  upon  the  subject  of  his  occupation.  He 
_  was  in  bad  humor,  and  had,  according  to  his  phrase,  no  free- 
dom for  conversation  with  us. 

His  spirit  had  been  sorely  vexed  by  hearing,  in  a  certain 
Aberdonian  kirk,  the  psalmody  directed  by  a  pitch-pipe,  or 
Bome  similar  instrument,  which  was  to  Old  Mortality  the 
abomination  of  abominations.  Perhaps,  after  all,  he  did  not 
feel  himself  at  ease  with  his  company ;  he  might  suspect  the 
questions  asked  by  a  north-country  minister  and  a  young 
barrister  to  savor  more  of  idle  curiosity  than  profit.  At  any 
rate,  in  the  phrase  of  John  Bunyan,  Old  Mortality  went  on 
his  way,  and  I  saw  him  no  more.         "-— 

The  remarkable  figure  and  occupation  of  this  ancient  pil- 


adi  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

grim  was  recalled  to  my  memory  by  an  account  transmitted 
by  my  friend,  Mr.  Joseph  Train,  supervisor  of  excise  at  Dum- 
fries, to  whom  I  owe  many  obligations  of  a  similar  nature. 
From  this,  besides  some  other  circumstances,  among  which 
are  those  of  the  old  man^s  death,  I  learned  the  particulars 
described  in  the  text.  I  am  also  informed  that  the  old  palm- 
er's family,  in  the  third  generation,  survives,  and  is  highly 
respected  both  for  talents  and  worth. 

While  these  sheets  were  passing  through  the  press,  I  re^ 
ceived  the  following  communication  from  Mr.  Train,  whose 
nndeviating  kindness  had,  during  the  intervals  of  laborious 
duty,  collected  its  materials  from  an  indubitable  source: 

*'  In  the  course  of  my  periodical  visits  to  the  Glenkens,  I 
have  become  intimately  acquainted  with  Robert  Paterson,  a 
son  of  Old  Mortality,  who  lives  in  the  little  village  of  Balma- 
clellan ;  and  although  he  is  now  in  the  seventieth  year  of 
his  age,  preserves  all  the  vivacity  of  youth — has  a  most  reten- 
tive memory,  and  a  mind  stored  with  information  far  above 
what  could  be  expected  from  a  person  in  his  station  of  life. 
To  him  I  am  indebted  for  the  following  particulars  relative 
to  his  father  and  his  descendants  down  to  the  present  time. 

'' Robert  Paterson,  alias  Old  Mortality,  was  the  son  of 
Walter  Paterson  and  Margaret  Scott,  who  occupied  the  farm 
of  Haggisha,  in  the  parish  of  Hawick,  during  nearly  the  first 
half  of  the  18th  century..  Here  Robert  was  born,  in  the 
memorable  year  1715. 

"  Being  the  youngest  son  of  a  numerous  family,  he,  at  an 
early  age,  went  to  serve  with  an  elder  brotlier,  named  Francis, 
who  rented,  from  Sir  John  Jardine  of  Applegarth,  a  small 
tract  in  Corncockle  Moor,  near  Lochmaben.  During  his  res- 
idence there  he  became  acquainted  with  Elizabeth  Gray, 
daughter  of  Robert  Gray,  gardener  to  Sir  John  Jardine, 
whom  he  afterwards  married.  His  wife  had  been  for  a  con- 
siderable time  a  cook-maid  to  Sir  Thomas  Kirkpatrick  of 
Closeburn,  who  procured  for  her  husband,  from  the  Duke  of 
Queensberry,  an  advantageous  lease  of  the  freestone  quarry  of 
Gatelowbrigg,  in  the  parish  of  Morton.  Here  he  built  a 
house,  and  had  as  much  land  as  kept' a  horse  and  cow.  My 
informant  cannot  say  with  certainty  the  year  in  which  his 
father  took  up  his  residence  at  Gatelowbrigg,  but  he  is  surw 
it  must  have  been  only  a  short  time  prior  to  the  year  1746,  ag^ 
during  the  memorable  frost  in  1740,  he  says  his  mother  still 
resided  in  the  service  of  Sir  Thomas  Kirkpatrick.  When  the 
Highlanders  were  returning  from  England  on  their  route  t4^ 
Glasgow,  in  the  year  1745-46,  they  plundered  Mr.  Pate^so^'d 


INTRODUCTION  TO  OLD  MORTALITY  xiii 

house  at  Gatelowbrigg,  and  carried  him  a  prisoner  as  far  as 
Glenbuck,  merely  because  he  said  to  one  of  the  straggling 
army  that  their  retreat  might  have  been  easily  foreseen,  as  the 
strong  arm  of  the  Lord  was  evidently  raised,  not  only  against 
the  bloody  and  wicked  house  of  Stewart,  but  against  all  who 
attempted  to  support  the  abominable  heresies  of  the  Church 
of  Eome.  From  this  circumstance  it  appears  that  Old  Mor- 
tality had,  even  at  that  early  period  of  his  life,  imbibed  the 
religious  enthusiasm  by  which  he  afterwards  became  so  much 
distinguished. 

"  The  religious  sect  called  Hill-men,  or  Cameronians,  was 
at  that  time  much  noted  for  austerity  and  devotion,  in  imi- 
tation of  Cameron,  their  founder,  of  whose  tenets  Old  Mor- 
tality became  a  most  strenuous  supporter.  He  made  frequent 
journeys  into  Galloway  to  attend  their  conventicles,  and 
occasionally  carried  with  him  gravestones  from  his  quarry  at 
Gatelowbrigg,  to  keep  in  remembrance  the  righteous  whose 
dust  had  been  gathered  to  their  fathers.  Old  Mortality  was 
not  one  of  those  religious  devotees  who,  although  one  eye  is 
seemingly  turned  towards  heaven,  keep  the  other  steadfastly 
fixed  on  some  sublunary  object.  As  his  enthusiasm  increased, 
his  journeys  into  Galloway  became  more  frequent ;  and  he 
gradually  neglected  even  the  common  prudential  duty  of  pre 
vidirig  for  his  offspring.  From  about  the  year  1758,  he  neg- 
lected wholly  to  return  from  Galloway  to  his  wife  and.  five 
children  at  Gatelowbrigg,  which  induced  her  to  send  her 
eldest  son  Walter,  then  only  twelve  years  of  age,  to  Galloway 
in  search  of  his  father.  After  traversing  nearly  the  whole  of 
that  extensive  district,  from  the  Nick  of  Benncorie  to  the 
Fell  of  Barhullion,  he  found  him  ait  last  working  on  the 
Oameronian  monuments,  in  the  old  kirkyard  of  Kirkchrist, 
on  the  west  side  of  the  Dee,  opposite  the  town  of  Kirkcud- 
bright, The  little  Avanderer  used  all  the  influence  in  his 
power  to  induce  his  father  to  return  to  his  family  ;  but  in 
vain.  Mrs.  Paterson  sent  even  some  of  her  female  children 
into  Galloway  in  search  of  their  father,  for  the  same  purpose 
of  persuading  him  to  return  home  ;  but  without  any  success. 
At  last,  in  tlie  summer  of  1768,  *she  removed  to  the  little  up- 
land village  of  Balmaclellan,  in  the  Glenkens  of  Galloway, 
where,  upou  the  small  pittance  derived  from  keeping  a  little 
school,  she  supported  her  numerous  family  in  a  respectable 
manner. 

^'  Tliere  is  a  small  monumental  stone  in  the  farm  of  the 
Caldon,  near  the  House  of  the  Hill,  in  Wigtonshire,  which  is 
highly  venerated  as  being  the  first  erected,  by  Old  Mortality, 


Jdr  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  the  memory  of  several  persons  who  fell  at  that  place  in 
defence  of  their  religious  tenets  in  the  civil  war,  in  tne  reign 
of  Charles  Second.* 

*'  From  the  Caldon,  the  labors  of  Old  Mortality,  in  the 
course  of  time,  spread  over  nearly  all  the  Lowlands  of  Scot- 
land. There  are  few  churchyards  in  Ayrshire,  Galloway,  or 
Dumfriesshire,  where  the  work  of  his  chisel  is  not  yet  to  be  seen. 
It  is  easily  distinguished  from  the  work  of  any  other  artist  by 
the  primitive  rudeness  of  the  emblems  of  death,  and  of  the 
inscriptions  which  adorn  the  ill-formed  blocks  of  his  erection. 
This  task  of  repairing  and  erecting  gravestones,  practised 
without  fee  or  reward,  was  the  only  ostensible  employment 
of  this  singular  person  for  upwards  of  forty  years.  The  door 
of  every  Cameronian's  house  was  indeed  open  to  him  at  all 
times  when  he  chose  to  enter,  and  he  was  gladly  received  as 
an  inmate  of  the  family  ;  but  he  did  not  invariably  accept  of 
these  civilities,  as  may  be  seen  by  the  following  account  of 
his  frugal  expenses,  found,  among  other  little  papers  (some 
of  which  I  have  likewise  in  my  possession),  in  his  pocket- 
book  after  his  death ; 

Gatehotise  of  Fleet,  4th  February  1796. 

Robert  Paterson  debtor  to  Margaret  Chrystale 

To  drye  Lodginge  for  seven  weeks    .        .        .        .£041 

To  Four  Auchlets  of  Ait  Meal 0    3    4 

To  6  Lippies  of  Potatoes 0    13 

To  Lend  Money  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Reid's  Sacrament     0    6    0 
ToSChappinsof  Yell  with  Sandy  the  Keelmanf    .      0    0    9 


£0  15    5 
Received  in  part      .       .        .      0  10    0 

Unpaid         .        .        .    £0    5    5 

'*  This  statement  shows  the  religious  wanderer  to  have  been 
Tery  poor  in  his  old  age ;  but  he  was  so  more  by  choice  than 
through  necessity,  as  at  the  period  here  alluded  to  his  children 
were  all  comfortably  situated,  and  were  most  anxious  to  keep 
their  father  at  home,  but  no  entreaty  could  induce  him  to 
alter  his  erratic  way  of  life.  He  travelled  from  one  churchyard 
to  another,  mounted  on  his  old  white  pony,  till  the  last  day 
of  his  existence,  and  died,  as  you  have  described,  at  Bankhill, 
near  Lockerby,  on  the  14th  February  1801,  in  the  eighty, 

♦  The  house  was  stormed  by  a  Captain  Orchard  or  Urquhart,  who  was  shot  In 
the  attack. 

t  A  well-known  huraorist,  still  alive,  popularly  called  by  the  name  of  Old  KmI)^ 
baci,  who  deals  In  the  keel  or  chalk  with  wnioh  farmers  mark  their  flooka. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  OLD  MORTALITY  xt 

sixth  year  of  his  age.  As  soon  as  his  body  was  found,  intima- 
tion was  sent  to  his  sons  at  Balmaclellan  ;  but,  from  the  great 
depth  of  the  snow  at  that  time,  the  letter  communicating  the 
particulars  of  his  death  was  so  long  detained  by  the  way  that 
the  remains  of  the  pilgrim  were  interred  before  any  of  his  re- 
lations could  arrive  at  Bankhill. 

"  The  following  is  an  exact  copy  of  the  account  of  his 
funeral  expenses,  the  original  of  which  I  have  in  my  pos- 
session : 

Memorandum  of  the  Funral  Charges  of  Robert  Paterson,  who 
dyed  at  Bankhill  on  the  14th  day  of  February  1801 

To  a  Coffon £0  12    0 

To  Hunting  for  do 0    2    8 

To  a  Shirt  for  him 0    5    0 

To  a  pair  of  Cotton  Stockings .        .        .        .        .  0    2    0 

To  Bread  at  the  Founral 0    2    6 

To  Chise  at  ditto 0    3    0 

To  1  pint  Rume 0    4    6 

To  1  pint  Whiskie 0    4    6 

To  a  man  going  to  Annan 0    2    P 

To  the  grave  diger    ...••..  010 
To  Linnen  for  a  sheet  to  him  .                        .,028 

£2    1  10 
Taken  off  him  when  dead       .         1    7    (> 

£0  14    4 


"  The  above  account  is  authenticated  by  the  son  of  the 
deceased. 

*'  My  friend  was  prevented  by  indisposition  from  even 
going  to  Bankhill  to  attend  the  funeral  of  his  father,  which  I 
regret  very  much,  as  he  is  not  aware  in  what  churchyard  he 
was  interred. 

*'  For  the  purpose  of  erecting  a  small  monument  to  his 
memory,  I  have  made  every  possible  inquiry,  wherever  1 
thought  there  was  the  least  chance  of  finding  out  where  Old 
Mortality  was  laid  ;  but  I  have  done  so  in  vain,  as  his  death 
is  not  registered  in  the  session-book  of  any  of  the  neighboring 
parishes.  *  I  am  sorry  to  think  that  in  all  probability  this 
singular  person,  who  spent  so  many  years  of  his  lengthened 

♦TIus  good  intention  was,  however,  carried  out.  A  headstone  was  erected 
November,  1869,  to  the  memory  of  Old  Mortality  in  the  churchyard  of  Caerlavrock, 
where  there  is  satisfactory  proof  of  his  havin.^  been  interred  in  the  month  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1801.  Mr.  Train  seems  to  have  been  misled  in  his  information  respecting  the 
name  of  the  village  where  Robert  Paterson  died.  There  is  now  strong  evidence  that 
not  Bankhill,  but  Bankend,  about  fifteen  miles  from  Bankhill,  was  the  place  when 
Old  Mortality  breathed  his  last  CLaing^ 


3tvi  ^,r .  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

existence  in  striving  with  his  chisel  and  mallet  to  perpetuate 
the  memory  of  many  less  deserving  than  himself,  must  remain 
even  without  a  single  stone  to  mark  out  the  resting-place  of 
his  mortal  remains. 

''  Old  Mortality  had  three  sons,  Eobert,  Walter,  and  John ; 
the  former,  as  has  been  already  mentioned,  lives  in  the  village 
of  Balmaclellan,  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and  is  much 
respected  by  his  neighbors.  Walter  died  several  years  ago, 
leaving  behind  him  a  family  now  respectably  situated  in  this 
point.  John  went  to  America  in  the  year  1776,  and,  after 
various  turns  of  fortune,  settled  at  Baltimore." 

Old  Nol  himself  is  said  to  have  loved  an  innocent  jest 
(see  Captain  Hodgson^s  Memoirs),  Old  Mortality  somewhat 
resembled  the  Protector  in  this  turn  to  festivity.  Like  Master 
Silence,  he  had  been  merry  twice  and  thrice  in  his  time  ;  but 
even  his  jests  were  of  a  melancholy  and  sepulchral  nature,  and 
sometimes  attended  wdth  inconvenience  to  himself,  as  will 
appear  from  the  following  anecdote  : 

The  old  man  was  at  one  time  following  his  wonted  occupa- 
tion of  repairing  the  tombs  of  the  martyrs,  in  the  churchyard 
of  Girthon,  and  the  sexton  of  the  parish  was  plying  his  kin- 
dred task  at  no  small  distance.  Some  roguish  urchins  were 
sporting  near  them,  and  by  their  noisy  gambols  disturbing  the 
old  men  in  their  serious  occupation.  The  most  petulant  of 
the  juvenile  party  were  two  or  three  boys,  grandchildren  of  a 
person  well  known  by  the  name  of  Cooper  Climent.  This  artist 
enjoyed  almost  a  monopoly  in  Girthon  and  the  neighboring 
parishes  for  making  and  selling  ladles,  caups,  bickers,  bowls, 
spoons,  cogues,  and  trenchers,  formed  of  wood,  for  the  use  of 
the  country  people.  It  must  be  noticed  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  excellence  of  tlie  cooper's  vessels,  they  were  apt,  when 
new,  to  impart  a  reddish  tinge  to  whatever  liquor  was  put  into 
them,  a  circumstance  not  uncommon  in  like  cases. 

.  The  grandchildren  of  this  dealer  in  wooden  work  took  it 
into  their  head  to  ask  the  sexton  what  use  he  could  possibly 
make  of  the  numerous  fragments  of  old  coffins  which  were 
thrown  up  in  opening  new  graves.  '*  Do  you  not  know,'' 
said  Old  Mortality,  ^'  that  he  sells  them  to  your  grandfather, 
who  makes  them  into  spoons,  trenchers,  bickers,  bowies,  and 
so  forth  ?  "  At  this  assertion,  the  youthful  group  broke  up 
in  great  confusion  and  disgust,  on  reflecting  how  many  meals 
they  had  eaten  out  of  dishes  which,  by  Old  Mortality's  ac- 
count, were  only  fit  to  be  used  at  a  banquet  of  witches  or  of 
ghouls.  Tliey  carried  the  tidings  home,  when  many  a  dinner 
was  spoiled  by  the  loathing  which  the  intelligence  imparted; 


INTRODUCTION  TO  OLD  MORTALITY  xvii 

for  the  account  of  the  materials  was  supposed  to  explain  the 
reddish  tinge  which,  even  in  the  days  of  the  cooper^s  fame, 
had  seemed  somewhat  suspicious.  The  ware  of  Cooper 
Climent  was  rejected  in  horror,  much  to  the  benefit  of  his 
rivals  the  muggers,  who  dealt  in  earthenware.  The  man  of 
cutty-spoon  and  ladle  saw  his  trade  interrupted,  and  learned , 
the  reason,  by  his  quondam  customers  coming  upon  him  in 
wrath  to  return  the  goods  which  were  composed  of  such  unlial- 
lowed  materials,  and  demand  repayment  of  their  money.  In 
this  disagreeable  predicament,  the  forlorn  artist  cited  Old  Mor- 
tality into  a  court  of  justice,  where  he  proved  that  the  wood  he 
used  in  his  trade  was  that  of  the  staves  of  old  wine-pipes  bought 
from  smugglers,  with  whom  the  country  then  abounded,  a 
circumstance  which  fully  accounted  for  their  imparting  a 
color  to  their  contents.  Old  Mortality  himself  made  tlie  ful- 
lest declaration  that  he  had  no  other  purpose  in  making  the 
assertion  than  to  check  the  petulance  of  the  children.  But 
it  is  easier  to  take  away  a  good  name  than  to  restore  it. 
Cooper  Climent's  business  continued  to  languish,  and  he  died 
in  a  state  of  poverty. 


OLD    MORTALITY 


CHAPTER  I 

PRELIMINARY 

Why  seeks  he  with  unwearied  toil 
Through  death's  dim  walks  to  urge  his  waj, 

Reclaim  his  long-asserted  spoil, 
And  lead  oblivion  into  day  ? 

liANaHOBNB. 

"Most  readers,"  says  the  Manuscript  of  Mr.  Pattieson,  "mnst 
have  witnessed  with  delight  the  joyous  burst  which  attends 
the  dismissing  of  a  village  school  on  a  fine  summer  evening. 
The  buoyant  spirit  of  childhood,  repressed  with  so  much  dif- 
ficulty during  the  tedious  hours  of  discipline,  may  then  be 
seen  to  explode,  as  it  were,  in  shout,  and  song,  and  frolic,  as 
the  little  urchins  join  in  groups  on  their  playground,  and  ar- 
range their  matches  of  sport  for  the  evening.  But  there  is 
one  individual  who  partakes  of  the  relief  afforded  by  the  mo- 
ment of  dismission,  whose  feelings  are  not  so  obvious  to  the 
eye  of  the  spectator,  or  so  apt  to  receive  his  sympathy.  I 
mean  the  teacher  himself,  who,  stunned  with  the  hum,  and 
suffocated  with  the  closeness  of  his  schoolroom,  has  spent  the 
whole  day  (himself  against  a  host)  in  controlling  petulance, 
exciting  indifference  to  action,  striving  to  enlighten  stupidity, 
and  laboring  to  soften  obstinacy  ;  and  whose  very  powers  of 
intellect  have  been  confounded  by  hearing  the  same  dull  les- 
son repeated  a  hundred  times  by  rote,  and  only  varied  by  the 
various  blunders  of  the  reciters.  Even  the  flowers  of  classic 
genius,  with  which  his  solitary  fancy  is  most  gratified,  have 
been  rendered  degraded  in  his  imagination  by  their  connection 
with  tears,  with  errors,  and  with  punishment;  so  that  the 
Eclogues  of  Virgil  and  Odes  of  Horace  are  each  inseparably 
allied  in  association  with  the  sullen  figure  and  monotonous 
recitation  of  some  blabbering  schoolboy.    If  to  these  mental 


3  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

distresses  are  added  a  delicate  frame  of  body,  and  a  mind  am- 
bitious of  some  higher  distinction  than  that  of  being  the  ty- 
rant of  childhood,  the  reader  may  have  some  slight  conception 
of  the  relief  which  a  solitary  walk  in  the  cool  of  a  fine  summer 
evening  affords  to  the  head  which  has  ached,  and  the  nerves 
which  liave  been  shattered,  for  so  many  hours  in  plying  the 
irksome  task  of  public  instruction.  '  ':     - 

"  To  me  these  evening  strolls  have  been  the  happiest  hours 
of  an  unhappy  life  ;  and  if  any  gentle  reader  shall  hereafter 
find  pleasure  in  perusing  these  lucubrations,  I  am  not  unwilling 
he  should  know  that  the  plan  of  them  has  been  usually  "traced 
in  those  moments  when  relief  from  toil  and  clamor,  combined 
with  the  quiet  scenery  around  me,  has  disposed  my  mind  to 
the  task  of  composition. 

''My  chief  haunt,  in  these  hours  of  golden  leisure,  is  the 
banks  of  the  small  stream  which,  winding  through  a '  lone  vale 
of  green  bracken,'  passes  in  front  of  the  village  school-house 
of  Gandercleugh.  For  the  first  quarter  of  a  mile,  perhaps,  I 
may  be  disturbed  from  my  meditations  in  order  to  return  the 
scrape  or  doffed  bonnet  of  such  stragglers  among  my  pupils 
as  fish  for  trouts  or  minnows  in  the  little  brook,  or  seek  rushes 
and  wild  flowers  by  its  margin.  But  beyond  the  space  I  have 
mentioned  the  juvenile  anglers  do  not  after  sunset  voluntarily 
extend  their  excursions.  The  cause  is,  that  further  up  the 
narrow  valley,  and  in  a  recess  which  seems  scooped  out  of  the 
side  of  the  steep  heathy  bank,  there  is  a  deserted  burial-ground, 
which  the  little  cowards  are  fearful  of  approaching  in  the 
twilight.  To  me,  however,  the  place  has  an  inexpressible 
charm.  It  has  been  long  the  favorite  termination  of  my  walks, 
and,  if  my  kind  patron  forgets  not  his  promise,  will  (and  prob- 
ably at  no  very  distant  day)  be  my  final  resting-place  after  my 
mortal  pilgrimage.* 

"  It  is  a  spot  which  possesses  all  the  solemnity  of  feeling 
attached  to  a  burial-ground,  without  exciting  those  of  a  more 
unpleasing  description.  Having  been  very  little  used  for  many 
years,  the  few  hillocks  which  rise  above  the  level  plain  are 
covered  with  the  same  short  velvet  turf.  The  monuments,  of 
which  there  are  not  above  seven  or  eight,  are  half  sunk  in  the 
ground  and  overgrown  with  moss.  No  newly  erected  tomb 
disturbs  the  sober  serenity  of  our  reflections  by  reminding  ua 
of  recent  calamity,  and  no  rank-springing  grass  forces  upon 
our  imagination  the  recollection,  that  it  owes  its  dark  luxuri- 
ance to  the  foul  and  festering  remnants  of  mortality  which 
ferment  beneath.      The  daisy  which  sprinkles  the  sod,  and 

*  See  ii'Mw  F»ttieioa'«  Grave.    Note  1. 


OLD  MORTALITY  t 

the  harebell  which  hangs  over  it,  derive  their  pure  nourishment 
from  the  dew  of  heaven,  and  their  growth  impresses  us  with 
no  degrading  or  disgusting  recollections.  Death  has  indeed 
been  here^  and  its  traces  are  before  us ;  but  they  are  softened 
and  deprived  of  their  horror  by  our  distance  from  the  period 
when  they  have  been  first  impressed.  Those  who  sleep  beneath 
/  are  only  connected  with  us  by  the  reflection,  that  they  have 
once  been  what  we  now  are,  and  that,  as  their  relics  are  now 
identified  with  their  mother  earth,  ours  shall  at  some  future 
period  undergo  the  same  transformation. 

"  Yet,  although  the  moss  has  been  collected  on  the  most 
modern  of  these  humble  tombs  during  four  generations  of 
mankind,  the  memory  of  some  of  those  who  sleep  beneath 
them  is  still  held  in  reverent  remembrance.  It  is  true  that, 
upon  the  largest,  and,  to  an  antiquary,  the  most  interesting 
monument  of  the  group,  which  bears  the  effigies  of  a  doughty 
knight  in  his  hood  of  mail,  with  his  shield  hanging  on  his 
breast,  the  armorial  bearings  are  defaced  by  time,  and  a  few 
worn-out  letters  may  be  read  at  the  pleasure  of  the  decipherer, 
Dns.  Johan  de  Hamel,  or  Jolian  de  Lamel.  And  it  is  also 
true  that  of  another  tomb,  richly  sculptured  with  an  orna- 
mental cross,  mitre,  and  pastoral  staff,  tradition  can  only  aver 
that  a  certain  nameless  bishop  lies  interred  there.  But  upon 
other  two  stones  which  lie  beside  may  still  be  read  in  rude 
prose  and  ruder  rhyme  the  history  of  those  who  sleep  beneath 
them.  They  belong,  we  are  assured  by  the  epitaph,  to  the 
class  of  persecuted  Presbyterians  who  afforded  a  melancholy 
subject  for  history  in  the  times  of  Charles  II.  and  his  successor.  * 
In  returning  from  the  battle  of  Pentland  Hills,  a  party  of  the 
insurgents  had  been  attacked  in  this  glen  by  a  small  detach- 
ment of  the  king's  troops,  and  three  or  four  either  killed  in 
the  skirmish,  or  shot  after  being  made  prisoners,  as  rebels 
taken  with  arms  in  their  hands.  The  peasantry  continued  to 
attach  to  the  tombs  of  those  victims  of  prelacy  an  honor  which 
they  do  not  render  to  more  splendid  mausoleums  ;  and,  when 
they  point  them  out  to  their  sons,  and  narrate  the  fate  of  the 
sufferers,  usually  conclude  by  exhorting  them  to  be  ready, 
should  times  call  for  it,  to  resist  to  the  death  in  the  cause  of 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  like  their  brave  forefathers. 

'^  Although  I  am  far  from  venerating  the  peculiar  tenets 
asserted  by  those  who  call  themselves  the  followers  of  those 
men,  and  whose  intolerance  and  narrow-minded  bigotry  are 
at  least  as  conspicuous  as  their  devotional  zeal,  yet  it  is  with- 

*  James,  Seventh  King  of  Scotland  of  that  name,  and  Second  according  to  the 
nxuneration  of  the  Kings  of  England.— J.  C. 


^ 


4  Waverley  novels 

out  depreciating  the  memory  of  those  sufferers,  many  of  whom 
united  the  independent  sentiments  of  a  Hampden  with  the 
suffering  zeal  of  a  Hooper  or  Latimer.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  would  be  unjust  to  forget  that  many  even  of  those  who  had 
been  most  active  in  crushing  what  they  conceived  the  re- 
bellious and  seditious  spirit  of  those  unhappy  wanderers,  dis- 
played themselves,  when  called  upon  to  suffer  for  their  politi- 
cal and  religious  opinions,  the  same  daring  and  devoted  zeal, 
tinctured,  in  their  case,  with  chivalrous  loyalty,  as  in  the  for- 
mer with  republican  enthusiasm.  It  has  often  been  remarked 
of  the  Scottish  character,  that  the  stubbornness  with  which 
it  is  moulded  shows  most  to  advantage  in  adversity,  when  it 
seems  akin  to  the  native  sycamore  of  their  hills,  which^scorns 
to  be  biassed  in  its  mode  of  growth  even  by  the  influence  of 
the  prevailing  wind,  but,  shooting  its  branches  with  equal 
boldness  in  every  direction,  shows  no  weather-side  to  the 
storm,  and  may  be  broken,  but  can  never  be  bended.  It  must 
be  understood  that  I  speak  of  my  countrymen  as  they  fall 
under  my  own  observation.  When  in  foreign  countries,  I 
have  been  informed  that  they  are  more  docile.  But  it  is 
time  to  return  from  this  digression. 

''  One  summer  evening  as,  in  a  stroll  such  as  I  have  de- 
scribed, I  approached  this  deserted  mansion  of  the  dead,  I  was 
somewhat  surprised  to  hear  sounds  distinct  from  those  which 
usually  soothe  its  solitude,  the  gentle  chiding,  namely,  of  the 
brook,  and  the  sighing  of  the  wind  in  the  boughs  of  three  gi- 
gantic ash-trees,  which  mark  the  cemetery.  The  clink  of  a  ham- 
mer was  on  this  occasion  distinctly  heard ;  and  I  entertained 
some  alarm  that  a  march  dike,  long  meditated  by  the  two  pro- 
prietors whose  estates  were  divided  by  my  favorite  brook,  was 
about  to  be  drawn  up  the  glen,  in  order  to  substitute  its 
rectilinear  deformity  for  the  graceful  winding  of  the  natural 
boundary.*  As  I  approached  I  was  agreeably  undeceived. 
An  old  man  was  seated  upon  the  monument  of  the  slaugh- 
tered Presbyterians,  and  busily  employed  in  deepening  with 
his  chisel  the  letters  of  the  inscription  which,  announcing  in 
Scriptural  language  the  promised  blessings  of  futurity  to  be 
the  lot  of  the  slain,  anathematized  the  murderers  with  corre- 
sponding violence.  A  blue  bonnet  of  unusual  dimensions 
covered  the  grav  hairs  of  the  pious  workman.  His  dress  was 
a  large  old-fashioned  coat  of  the  coarse  cloth  called  '  liodden- 
gray,'  usually  worn  by  the  elder  peasants,  with  waistcoat  and 
breeches  of  the  same  ;  and  the  whole  suit,  though  still  in 
decent  repair,  had  obviously  seen  a  train  of  long  service. 

♦  See  A  March-Dike  Boundary.    Note  8. 


OLD  MORTALITY  5 

Strong  clouted  shoes,  studded  with  hob-nails  and  '  gramashes ' 
or  '  leggins/  made  of  thick  black  cloth,  completed  his 
equipment.  Beside  him,  fed  among  the  graves  a  pony,  the 
companion  of  his  journey,  whose  extreme  whiteness,  as  well 
as  its  projecting  bones  and  hollow  eyes,  indicated  its  antiq- 
uity. It  was  harnessed  in  the  most  simple  manner,  with  a 
pair  of  branks,  a  hair  tether,  or  halter,  and  a  '  sunk,'  or 
cushion  of  straw,  instead  of  bridle  and  saddle.  A  canvas 
pouch  hung  around  the  neck  of  the  animal,  for  the  purpose, 
probably,  of  containing  the  rider's  tools,  and  anything  else  he 
might  have  occasion  to  carry  with  him.  Although  I  had 
never  seen  the  old  man  before,  yet  from  the  singularity  of  his 
employment  and  the  style  of  his  equipage,  I  had  no  difficulty 
in  recognizing  a  religious  itinerant  whom  I  had  often  heard 
talked  of,  and  who  was  known  in  various  parts  of  Scotland  by 
the  title  of  Old  Mortality. 

"  Where  this  man  was  born,  or  what  was  his  real  name, 
I  have  never  been  able  to  learn ;  nor  are  the  motives  which 
made  him  desert  his  home  and  adopt  the  erratic  mode  of  life 
which  he  pursued  known  to  me  except  very  generally.  Ac- 
cording to  the  belief  of  most  people,  he  was  a  native  of  either 
the  county  of  Dumfries  or  Galloway,  and  lineally  descended 
from  some  of  those  champions  of  the  Covenant  whose  deeds 
and  sufferings  were  his  favorite  theme.  He  is  said  to  have 
held,  at  one  period  of  his  life,  a  small  moorland  farm  ;  but, 
whether  from  pecuniary  losses  or  domestic  misfortune,  he  had 
long  renounced  that  and  every  other  gainful  calling.  In  the 
language  of  Scripture,  he  left  his  house,  his  home,  and  his 
kindred,  and  wandered  about  until  the  day  of  his  death,  a 
period  of  nearly  thirty  years. 

"  During  this  long  pilgrimage,  the  pious  enthusiast  regu- 
lated his  circuit  so  as  annually  to  visit  the  graves  of  the  un- 
fortunate Covenanters  who  suffered  by  the  sword,  or  by  the 
executioner,  during  the  reigns  of  the  two  last  monarch s  of 
the  Stewart  line.  These  are  most  numerous  in  the  western 
districts  of  Ayr,  Galloway,  and  Dumfries  ;  but  they  are  also 
to  be  found  in  other  parts  of  Scotland,  wherever  the  fugitives 
had  fought,  or  fallen,  or  suffered  by  military  or  civil  execu- 
tion. Their  tombs  are  often  apart  from  all  human  habitation, 
in  the  remote  moors  and  wilds  to  which  the  wanderers  had 
fled  for  concealment.  But  wherever  they  existed,  Old  Mor- 
tality was  sure  to  visit  them  when  his  annual  round  brought 
them  within  his  reach.  In  the  most  lonely  recesses  of  the 
mountains  the  moor-fowl  shooter  has  been  often  surprised  tc 
find  him  busied  in  cleaning  the  moss  from  the  gi-ay  stones, 


«  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

renewing  with  his  chisel  the  half-defaced  inscriptions,  and 
repairing  the  emblems  of  death  with  which  these  simple 
monuments  are  usually  adorned.  Motives  of  the  most  sincere, 
though  fanciful,  devotion  induced  the  old  man  to  dedicate  so 
many  years  of  existence  to  perform  this  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  the  deceased  warriors  of  the  church.  He  considered  him-, 
self  as  fulfilling  a  sacred  duty,  while  renewing  to  the  eyes  of 
posterity  the  decaying  emblems  of  the  zeal  and  sufferings  of 
their  forefathers,  and  tliereby  trimming,  as  it  were,  the  beacon- 
light  which  was  to  warn  future  generations  to  defend  their 
religion  even  unto  blood. 

*'  In  all  his  wanderings  the  old  pilgrim  never  seemed  to- 
need,  or  was  known  to  accept,  pecuniary  assistance.  It  is  true, 
his  wants  were  very  few  ;  for  wherever  he  went,  he  found 
ready  quarters  in  the  house  of  some  Oameronian  of  his  own 
sect,  or  of  some  other  religious  person.  The  hospitality  which 
was  reverentially  paid  to  him  he  always  acknowledged  by  re- 
pairing the  grave-stones  (if  there  existed  any)  belonging  to 
the  family  or  ancestors  of  his  host.  As  the  wanderer  was 
usually  to  be  seen  bent  on  this  pious  task  within  the  precincts 
of  some  country  churchyard,  or  reclined  on  the  solitary  tomb- 
stone among  the  heath,  disturbing  the  plover  and  the  black- 
cock with  the  clink  of  his  chisel  and  mallet,  with  his  old  white 
pony  grazing  by  his  side,  he  acquired,  from  his  converse  among 
the  dead,  the  popular  appellation  of  Old  Mortality. 

'*The  character  of  such  a  man  could  have  in  it  little  con- 
nection even  with  innocent  gayety.  Yet  among  those  of  his 
own  religious  persuasion,  he  is  reported  to  have  been  cheer- 
ful. The  descendants  of  persecutors,  or  those  whom  he  sup- 
posed guilty  of  entertaining  similar  tenets,  and  the  scoffers 
at  religion  by  whom  he  was  sometimes  assailed,  he  usually 
termed  the  generation  of  vipers.  Conversing  with  others,  he 
was  grave  and  sententious,  not  without  a  cast  of  severity. 
But  he  is  said  never  to  have  been  observed  to  give  way  to  vio- 
lent passion,  excepting  upon  one  occasion,  when  a  niischievous 
truant- boy  defaced  with  a  stone  the  nose  of  a  cherub's  face 
which  the  old  man  was  engaged  in  retouching.  I  am  in  gen- 
eral a  sparer  of  the  rod,  notwithstanding  the  maxim  of  Solo- 
mon, for  which  schoolboys  have  little  reason  to  thank  his 
memory ;  but  on  this  occasion  I  deemed  it  proper  to  show  that 
I  did  not  hate  the  child.  But  I  must  return  to  the  circum- 
stances attending  my  first  interview  with  this  interesting  en- 
thusiast. 

'*  In  accosting  Old  Mortality,  I  did  not  fail  to  pay  respect 
to  his  years  and  his  principles,  beginning  my  address  by  a 


OLD  MORTALITY  ♦ 

respectful  apology  for  interrupting  his  labors.  The  old  man 
intermitted  the  operation  of  the  chisel, took  off  his  spectacles 
and  wiped  them,  then,  replacing  them  on  his  nose,  acknowl- 
edged my  courtesy  by  a  suitable  return.  Encouraged  by  his 
affability,  I  intruded  upon  him  some  questions  concerning  the 
sufferers  on  whose  monument  he  was  now  employed.  To  talk 
of  the  exploits  of  the  Covenanters  was  the  delight,  as  to  re- 
pair their  monuments  was  the  business,  of  his  life.  He  was 
profuse  in  the  communication  of  all  the  minute  information 
which  he  had  collected  concerning  them,  their  wars,  and  their 
wanderings.  One  would  almost  have  supposed  he  must  have 
been  their  contemporary,  and  have  actually  beheld  the  pas- 
sages which  he  related,  so  much  had  he  identified  his  feelings 
and  opinions  with  theirs,  and  so  much  had  his  narratives  the 
circumstantiality  of  an  eye-witness. 

^'^We,'  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  exultation — 'we  are  the 
only  true  Whigs.  Carnal  men  have  assumed  that  triumphant 
appellation,  following  him  whose  kingdom  is  of  this  world. 
Which  of  them  would  sit  six  hours  on  a  wet  hillside  to  hear  a 
godly  sermon  ?  I  trow  an  hour  o't  wad  staw  them.  They  are 
ne^er  a  hair  better  than  them  that  shamena  to  take  upon  them- 
sells  the  persecuting  name  of  bluidthirsty  Tories.  Self-seek- 
ers all  of  them,  strivers  after  wealth,  power,  and  worldly  am- 
bition, and  forgetters  alike  of  what  has  been  dree'd  and  done 
by  the  mighty  men  who  stood  in  the  gap  in  the  great  day  of 
wrath.  Xae  wonder  they  dread  the  accomplishment  of  what 
was  spoken  by  the  mouth  of  the  worthy  Mr.  Peden — that 
precious  servant  of  the  Lord,  none  of  whose  words  fell  to  the 
ground — that  the  French  monzies  sail  rise  as  fast  in  the  glens 
of  Ayr  and  the  Kens  of  Galloway  as  ever  the  Highlandmen  did 
in  1677.  And  now  they  are  gripping  to  the  bow  and  to  the 
spear,"when  they  suld  be  mourning  for  a  sinfu'  land  and  a 
broken  Covenant.' 

"  Soothing  the  old  man  by  letting  his  peculiar  opinions 
pass  without  contradiction,  and  anxious  to  prolong  conversa- 
tion with  so  singular  a  character,  I  prevailed  upon  him  to 
accept  that  hospitality  which  Mr.  Cleishbotham  is  always 
willing  to  extend  to  those  who  need  it.  In  our  way  to  the 
schoolmaster's  house  we  called  at  the  Wallace  Inn,  where  I 
was  pretty  certain  I  should  find  my  patron  about  that  hour  of 
the  evening.  After  a  courteous  interchange  of  civilities.  Old 
Mortality  was,  with  difficulty,  prevailed  upon  to  join  his  host 
in  a  single  glass  of  liquor,  and  that  on  condition  that  he  should 
be  permitted  to  name  the  pledge,  which  he  prefaced  with  a 
grace  of  about  five  minutes,  and  then,  with  bonnet  doffed  and 


4  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eyes  uplifted,  tlrank  to  the  memory  of  those  heroes  of  tht? 
Scirk  who  had  first  uplifted  her  banner  upon  the  mountains. 
As  no  persuasion  could  prevail  on  him  to  extend  his  convivi- 
ality to  a  second  cup,  my  patron  accompanied  him  home,  and 
accommodated  him  in  the  *  prophet^s  chamber/  *  as  it  is  his 
pleasure  to  call  the  closet  which  holds  a  spare  bed,  and  which 
IS  frequently  a  place  of  retreat  for  the  poor  traveller. 

"  The  next  day  I  took  leave  of  Old  Mortality,  who  seemed 
affected  by  the  unusual  attention  with  which  I  had  cultivated 
his  acquaintance  and  listened  to  his  conversation.  After  he 
had  mounted,  not  without  difficulty,  the  old  white  pony,  he 
took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said,  '  The  blessing  of  our  Master  be 
with  you,  young  man  !  My  hours  are  like  the  ears  of  the 
latter  harvest,  and  your  days  are  yet  in  the  spring  ;  and  yet 
you  may  be  gathered  into  the  garner  of  mortality  before  me, 
for  the  sickle  of  death  cuts  down  the  green  as  oft  as  the  ripe, 
and  there  is  a  color  in  your  cheek  that,  like  the  bud  of  the 
rose,  serveth  oft  to  hide  the  worm  of  corruption.  Wherefore 
labor  as  one  who  knoweth  not  when  his  Master  calleth.  And 
if  it  be  my  lot  to  return  to  this  village  after  ye  are  gane  hame 
to  your  ain  place,  these  auld  withered  hands  will  frame  a  stane 
of  memorial,  that  your  name  may  not  perish  from  among  the 
people.' 

''  I  thanked  Old  Mortality  for  his  kind  intentions  in  my 
behalf,  aud  heaved  a  sigh,  not,  I  think,  of  regret  so  much  as  of 
resignation,  to  think  of  the  chance  that  I  might  soon  require 
his  good  offices.  Bat  though,  in  all  human  probability,  he  did 
not  err  in  supposing  that  my  span  of  life  may  be  abridged  in 
youth,  he  had  overestimated  the  period  of  his  own  pilgrimage 
on  earth.  It  is  now  some  years  since  he  has  been  missed  in  all 
his  usual  haunts,  while  moss,  lichen,  and  deer-hair  are  fast 
covering  those  stones  to  cleanse  which  had  been  the  business 
of  his  life.  About  the  beginning  of  this  century  he  closed  his 
mortal  toils,  being  found  on  the  highway  near  Lockerbie,  in 
Dumfriesshire,  exhausted  and  just  expiring.  The  old  white 
pony,  the  companion  of  all  his  wanderings,  was  standing  by  the 
side  of  his  dying  master.  There  was  found  about  his  person  a 
sum  of  money  sufficient  for  his  decent  interment,  which  serves 
to  show  that  his  death  was  in  no  ways  hasteued  by  violence  or 
by  want.  The  common  people  still  regard  his  memory  with 
great  respect ;  and  many  are  of  opinion  that  the  stones  which 
he  repaired  will  not  again  require  the  assistance  of  the  chisel. 
They  even  assert  that  on  the  tombs  where  the  manner  of  the 
martyrs'  murder  is  recorded,  their  names  have  remained  in- 

*  See  Note  8. 


OLD  MORTALITY  % 

delibly  legible  since  the  death  of  Old  Mortality,  while  those 
of  the  persecutors,  sculptured  on  the  same  monuments,  have 
been  entirely  defaced.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  this 
is  a  fond  imagination,  and  that,  since  the  time  of  the  pious 
pilgrim,  the  monuments  which  were  the  objects  of  his  care  are 
hastening,  like  all  earthly  memorials,  into  ruin  or  decay. 

"  My  readers  will  of  course  understand  that  in  embodying 
into  one  compressed  narrative  many  of  the  anecdotes  which  I 
had  the  advantage  of  deriving  from  Old  Mortality,  I  have 
been  far  from  adopting  either  his  style,  his  opinions,  or  even 
his  facts,  so  far  as  they  appear  to  have  been  distorted  by  party 
prejudice.  I  have  endeavored  to  correct  or  verify  them  from 
the  most  authentic  sources  of  tradition,  afforded  by  the  rep- 
resentatives of  either  party. 

''  On  the  part  of  the  Presbyterians,  I  have  consulted  such 
moorland  farmers  from  the  western  districts  as,  by  the  kind- 
ness of  their  landlords,  or  otherwise,  have  been  able,  during 
the  late  general  change  of  property,  to  retain  possession  of 
the  grazings  on  which  their  grandsires  fed  their  flocks  and 
herds.  I  must  own,  that  of  late  days,  I  have  found  this  a 
limited  source  of  information.  I  have,  therefore,  called  in 
the  supplementary  aid  of  those  modest  itinerants  wliom  the 
scrupulous  civility  of  our  ancestors  denominated  travelling 
merchants,  but  whom,  of  late,  accommodating  ourselves  in 
this  as  in  more  material  particulars  to  the  feelings  and  sen- 
timents of  our  more  wealthy  neighbors,  we  have  learned  to 
call  packmen  or  peddlers.  To  country  weavers  travelling  in 
hopes  to  get  rid  of  their  winter  web,  but  more  especially  to 
tailors,  who,  from  their  sedentary  profession,  and  the  neces- 
sity in  our  country  of  exercising  it  by  temporary  residence  in 
the  families  by  whom  they  are  employed,  may  be  considered 
as  possessing  a  complete  register  of  rural  traditions,  I  have 
been  indebted  for  many  illustrations  of  the  narratives  of  Old 
Mortality,  much  in  the  taste  and  spirit  of  the  original. 

''  I  had  more  difficulty  in  finding  materials  for  correcting 
the  tone  of  partiality  which  evidently  pervaded  those  stores 
of  traditional  learning,  in  order  that  I  might  be  enabled  to 
present  an  unbiassed  picture  of  the  manners  of  that  unhappy 
period,  and  at  the  same  time  to  do  justice  to  the  merits  of 
both  parties.  But  I  have  been  enabled  to  qualify  the  narra- 
tives of  Old  Mortality  and  his  Cameronian  friends  by  the  re- 
ports of  more  than  one  descendant  of  ancient  and  honorable 
families,  who,  themselves  decayed  into  the  humble  vale  of 
life,  yet  look  proudly  back  on  the  period  when  their  ancestors 
fought  and  fell  in  behalf  of  the  exiled  house  of  Stewart.     I 


10  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

may  even  boast  right  reverend  authority  on  the  same  score ; 
for  more  than  one  nonjuring  bishop,  whose  authority  and  in- 
come were  upon  as  apostolical  a  scale  as  the  greatest  abomina- 
tor  of  Episcopacy  could  well  desire,  have  deigned,  while  par- 
.  taking  of  the  humble  cheer  of  the  Wallace  Inn,  to  furnish  me 
with  information  corrective  of  the  facts  which  I  learned  from 
others.  There  are  also  here  and  there  a  laird  or  two  who, 
though  they  shrug  their  shoulders,  profess  no  great  shame  in 
their  fathers  having  served  in  the  persecuting  squadrons  of 
Earlshall  and  Olaverhouse.  From  the  gamekeepers  of  these 
gentlemen,  an  office  the  most  apt  of  any  other  to  become 
hereditary  in  such  families,  I  have  also  contrived  to  collect" 
much  valuable  information. 

"  Upon  the  whole,  I  can  hardly  fear  that  at  this  time,  in 
describing  the  operation  which  their  opposite  principles  pro- 
duced upon  the  good  and  bad  men  of  both  parties,  I  can  be 
suspected  of  meanmg  insult  or  injustice  to  either.  If  recol- 
lection of  former  injuries,  extra-loyalty,  and  contempt  and 
hatred  of  their  adversaries,  produced  rigor  and  tyranny  in 
the  one  party,  it  will  hardly  be  denied,  on  the  other  hand, 
that,  if  the  zeal  for  God^s  house  did  not  eat  up  the  Conventi- 
clers,  it  devoured  at  least,  to  imitate  the  phrase  of  Dryden, 
no  small  portion  of  their  loyalty,  sober  sense,  and  good  breed- 
ing. We  may  safely  hope  that  the  souls  of  the  brave  and 
sincere  on  either  side  have  long  looked  down  with  surprise  and 
pity  upon  the  ill-appreciated  motives  which  caused  their 
<y  mutual  hatred  and  hostility  while  in  this  valley  of  darkness, 

blood,  and  tears.  Peace  to  their  memory  !  Let  us  think  of 
them  as  the  heroine  of  our  only  Scottish  tragedy  entreats  her 
lord  to  think  of  her  departed  sire  : 

"  O  rake  not  up  the  ashes  of  our  fathers  I 
Implacable  resentment  was  their  crime, 
And  grievous  has  the  expiation  been." 


CHAPTER  n 

Summon  an  hundred  horse  by  break  of  day, 
To  wait  our  pleasure  at  the  castle  gates. 

Douglas, 

Under  the  reign  of  the  last  Stewarts  there  was  an  anxious 
wish  on  the  part  of  government  to  counteract,  by  every 
means  in  their  power,  the  strict  or  puritanical  spirit  which 
had  been  the  chief  characteristic  of  the  republican  govern- 
ment, and  to  revive  those  feudal  institutions  wliich  united  the 
vassal  to  the  liege  lord,  and  both  to  the  crown.  Frequent 
musters  and  assemblies  of  the  people,  both  for  military 
exercise  and  for  sports  and  pastimes,  were  appointed  by  au- 
thority. The  interference  in  the  latter  case  was  impolitic, 
to  say  the  least ;  for,  as  usual  on  such  occasions,  the  con- 
sciences which  were  at  first  only  scrupulous  became  con- 
firmed in  their  opinions,  instead  of  giving  way  to  the  terrors 
of  authority  ;  and  tlie  youth  of  both  sexes,  to  whom  the  pipe 
and  tabor  in  England,  or  the  bagpipe  in  Scotland,  would 
have  been  in  themselves  an  irresistible  temptation,  were  en- 
abled to  set  them  at  defiance  from  the  proud  consciousness 
that  they  were  at  the  same  time  resisting  an  act  of  council. 
To  compel  men  to  dance  and  be  merry  by  authority  has  rarely 
succeeded  even  on  board  of  slave-ships,  where  it  was  formerly 
sometimes  attempted  by  way  of  inducing  the  wretched  cap- 
tives to  agitate  their  limbs  and  restore  the  circulation  during 
the  few  minutes  they  were  permitted  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air 
upon  deck.  The  rigor  of  the  strict  Calvinists  increased  in 
proportion  to  the  wishes  of  the  government  that  it  should  be 
relaxed  ;  a  Judaical  observance  of  the  Sabbath,  a  supercilious 
condemnation  of  all  manly  pastimes  and  harmless  recreations, 
as  well  as  of  the  profane  custom  of  promiscuous  dancing — 
that  is,  of  men  and  women  dancing  together  in  the  same 
party,  for  I  believe  they  admitted  that  the  exercise  might  be 
inoffensive  if  practised  by  the  parties  separately — distinguish- 
ing those  who  professed  a  more  than  ordinary  share  of  sanctity. 
They  discouraged,  as  far  as  lay  in  their  power,  even  the 
ancient  *'  wappenschaws,^'  as  they  were  termed,  when  the 


n  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  feudal  array  of  the  county  was  called  out,  and  each,  crown- 
i  vassal  was  required  to  appear  with  such  muster  of  men  and 
armor  as  he  was  bound  to  make  by  his  fief,  and  that  under 
high  statutory  penalties.  The  Covenanters  were  the  more 
jealous  of  those  assemblies,  as  the  lord-lieutenants  and 
sheriffs  under  whom  they  were  held  had  instructions  from  the 
government  to  spare  no  pains  which  might  render  them 
agreeable  to  the  young  men  who  were  thus  summoned  to- 
gether, upon  whom  the  military  exercise  of  the  morning,  and 
the  sports  which  usually  closed  the  evening,  might  naturally 
be  supposed  to  have  a  seductive  effect. 

The  preachers  and  proselytes  of  the  more  rigid  Presby- 
terians labored,  therefore,  by  caution,  remonstrance,  and 
authority,  to  diminish  the  attendance  upon  these  summonses, 
conscious  that  in  doing  so  they  lessened  not  only  the  apparent, 
but  the  actual,  strength  of  the  government,  by  impeding  the 
extension  of  that  esprit  de  corps  which  soon  unites  young  men 
who  are  in  the  habit  of  meeting  together  for  manly  sport,  or 
military  exercise.  They,  therefore,  exerted  themselves  earn- 
estly to  prevent  attendance  on  these  occasions  by  those  who 
could  find  any  possible  excuse  for  absence,  and  were  especially 
severe  upon  such  of  their  hearers  as  mere  curiosity  led  to  be 
spectators,  or  love  of  exercise  to  be  partakers,  of  the  array  and 
the  sports  which  took  place.  Such  of  the  gentry  as  acceded 
to  these  doctrines  were  not  always,  however,  in  a  situation  to 
be  ruled  by  them.  The  commands  of  the  law  were  imperative ; 
and  the  privy  council,  who  administered  the  executive  power 
in  Scotland,  were  severe  in  enforcing  the  statutory  penalties 
against  the  crown-vassals  who  did  not  appear  at  the  periodical 
wappenschaw.  The  landholders  were  compelled,  therefore, 
to  send  their  sons,  tenants,  and  vassals  to  the  rendezvous,  to 
the  number  of  horses,  men,  and  spears  at  which  they  were 
rated  ;  and  it  frequently  happened  that,  notwithstanding  the 
strict  charge  of  their  elders  to  return  as  soon  as  the  formal  in- 
spection was  over,  the  young  men-at-arms  were  unable  to  re- 
sist the  temptation  of  sharing  in  the  sports  which  succeeded 
the  muster,  or  to  avoid  listening  to  the  prayers  read  in  the 
churches  on  these  occasions,  and  thus,  in  the  opinion  of  their 
repining  parents,  meddling  with  the  accursed  thing  which  is 
an  abomination  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord. 

The  sheriff  of  the  county  of  Lanark  was  holding  the  wap- 
penschaw of  a  wild  district,  called  the  Upper  Ward  of  Clydes- 
dale, on  a  haugh  or  level  plain  near  to  a  royal  borough,  the 
name  of  which  is  no  way  essential  to  my  story,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  6  th  of  May,  1679,  when  our  narrative  commences. 


OLD  MORTALITY  18 

When  the  musters  had  been  made  and  duly  reported,  the 
young  men,  as  was  usual,  were  to  mix  in  various  sports,  of 
which  the  chief  was  to  shoot  at  the  popinjay,*  an  ancient  game 
formerly  practised  with  archery,  but  at  this  period  with  fire- 
arms. This  was  the  figure  of  a  bird  decked  with  party-col- 
ored feathers,  so  as  to  resemble  a  popinjay  or  parrot.  It  was 
suspended  to  a  pole,  and  served  for  a  mark,  at  which  the  com- 
petitors discharged  their  fusees  and  carabines  in  rotation, 
at  the  distance  of  sixty  or  seventy  paces.  He  whose  ball 
brought  down  the  mark  held  the  proud  title  of  Captain  of  the 
Popinjay  for  the  remainder  of  the  day,  and  was  usually  escort- 
ed in  triumph  to  the  most  reputable  change-house  in  the 
neighborhood,  where  the  evening  was  closed  with  conviviality, 
conducted  under  his  auspices,  and,  if  he  was  able  to  sustain 
it,  at  his  expense. 

It  will,  of  course,  be  supposed  that  the  ladies  of  the  country 
assembled  to  witness  this  gallant  strife,  those  excepted  who 
held  the  stricter  tenets  of  Puritanism,  and  would  therefore 
have  deemed  it  criminal  to  afford  countenance  to  the  profane 
gambols  of  the  malignants.  Landaus,  barouches,  or  tilburies, 
there  were  none  in  those  simple  days.  The  lord-lieutenant  of 
the  county  (a  personage  of  ducal  rank)  alone  pretended  to  the 
magnificence  of  a  wheel-carriage,  a  thing  covered  with  tarnished 
gilding  and  sculpture,  in  shape  like  the  vulgar  picture  of  Noah's 
ark,  dragged  by  eight  long-tailed  Flanders  mares,  bearing  eight 
"  insides  '^  and  six  '^  outsides."  The  insides  were  their  Graces 
in  person,  two  maids  of  honor,  two  children,  a  chaplain  stuffed 
into  a  sort  of  lateral  recess,  formed  by  a  projection  at  the  door 
of  the  vehicle,  and  called,  from  its  appearance,  the  boot,  and 
an  equerry  to  his  Grace  ensconced  in  the  corresponding  con- 
venience on  the  opposite  side.  A  coacliman  and  three  pos- 
tilions, who  wore  short  swords  and  tie-wigs  with  three  tails, 
had  blunderbusses  slung  behind  them,  and  pistols  at  their 
saddle-bow,  conducted  the  equipage.  On  the  foot-board,  be- 
hind this  moving  mansion-house,  stood,  or  rather  hung,  in 
triple  file,  six  lackeys  in  rich  liveries,  armed  up  to  the  teeth. 
The  rest  of  the  gentry,  men  and  women,  old  and  young,  were 
on  horseback,  followed  by  their  servants  ;  but  the  company,  for 
the  reasons  already  assigned,  was  rather  select  than  numerous. 

Near  to  the  enormous  leathern  vehicle  which  we  have  at- 
tempted to  describe,  vindicating  her  title  to  precedence  over 
the  untitled  gentry  of  the  country,  might  be  seen  the  sober  pal- 
frey of  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden,  bearing  the  erect  and  prim- 
itive form  of  Lady  Margaret  herself,  decked  in  those  widow's 

*SeeNot«4. 


14  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

weeds  which  the  good  lady  had  never  laid  aside  since  the  exe- 
cution of  her  husband  for  his  adherence  to  Montrose. 

Her  granddaughter,  and  only  earthly  care,  the  fair-haired 
Edith,  who  was  generally  allowed  to  be  the  prettiest  lass  in  the 
Upper  Ward,  appeared  beside  her  aged  relative  like  Spring 
placed  close  to  Winter.  Her  black  Spanish  jennet,  which  she 
managed  with  much  grace,  her  gay  riding-dress,  and  laced  side- 
saddle, had  been  anxiously  prepared  to  set  her  forth  to  the 
best  advantage.  But  the  clustering  profusion  of  ringlets, 
which,  escaping  from  under  her  cap,  were  only  confined  by  a 
green  ribbon  from  wantoning  over  her  shoulders  ;  her  cast  of 
features,  soft  and  feminine,  yet  not  without  a  certain  expres- 
sion of  playful  archness,  which  redeemed  their  sweetness  from 
the  charge  of  insipidity  sometimes  brought  against  blondes  and 
blue-eyed  beauties — these  attracted  more  admiration  from  the 
western  youth  than  either  the  splendor  of  her  equipments  or 
the  figure  of  her  palfrey. 

The  attendance  of  these  distinguished  ladies  was  rather 
inferior  to  their  birth  and  fashion  in  those  times,  as  it  con- 
sisted only  of  two  servants  on  horseback.  The  truth  was, 
that  the  good  old  lady  had  been  obliged  to  make  all  her 
domestic  servants  turn  out  to  complete  the  quota  which  he* 
barony  ought  to  furnish  for  the  muster,  and  in  which  she 
would  not  for  the  universe  have  been  found  deficient.  The 
old  steward,  who,  in  steel  cip  and  jack-boots,  led  forth  her 
array,  had,  as  he  said,  sweated  blood  and  water  in  his  efforts 
jto  overcome  the  scruples  and  evasions  of  the  moorland 
t  farmers,  who  ought  to  have  furnished  men,  horse,  and  harness 
on  these  occasions.  At  last  their  dispute  came  near  to  ^.n 
open  declaration  of  hostilities,  the  incensed  Episcopalian 
bestowing  on  the  recusants  the  whole  thunders  of  the  com- 
mination,  and  receiving  from  them  in  return  the  denuncia- 
tions of  a  Oalvinistic  excommunication.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  To  punish  the  refractory  tenants  would  have  been 
easy  enough.  The  privy  council  would  readily  have  imposed 
fines,  and  sent  a  troop  of  horse  to  collect  them.  But  this 
would  have  been  calling  1;he  huntsman  and  hounds  into  the 
garden  to  kill  the  hare. 

'*  For,''  said  Harrison  to  himself,  '*  the  carles  have  little 
eneugh  gear  at  ony  rate,  and  if  I  call  in  the  redcoats  and 
take  away  what  little  they  have,  how  is  my  worshipful  lady 
to  get  her  rents  paid  at  Candlemas,  which  is  but  a  difficult 
matter  to  bring  round  even  in  the  best  of  times  ?'' 

So  he  armed  the  fowler  and  falconer,  the  footman  and 
the  ploughman,  at  the  home  farm,  with  an  old  drunken 


OLD  MORTALITY  15 

Cavaliering  butler,  who  had  served  with  the  late  Sir  Richard 
under  Montrose,  and  stunned  the  family  nightly  with  his 
exploits  at  Kilsyth  and  Tippermuir,  and  who  was  the  only 
man  in  the  party  that  had  the  smallest  zeal  for  the  work  in 
hand.  In  this  manner,  and  by  recruiting  one  or  two  latitudi- 
narian  poachers  and  black-fishers,  Mr.  Harrison  completed 
the  quota  of  men  which  fell  to  the  share  of  Lady  Margaret 
Bellenden,  as  life-rentrix  of  the  barony  of  Tillietudlem  and 
others.  But  when  the  steward,  on  the  morning  of  the  event- 
ful day,  had  mustered  his  troupe  doree  before  the  iron  gate  of 
the  Tower,  the  mother  of  Cuddie  Headrigg,  the  ploughman, 
appeared,  loaded  with  the  jack-boots,  buff  coat,  and  other  ac- 
coutrements which  had  been  issued  forth  for  the  service  of 
the  day,  and  laid  them  before  the  steward,  demurely  assuring 
him  that,  *' whether  it  were  the  colic,  or  a  qualm  of  con- 
science, she  couldna  tak  upon  her  to  decide,  but  sure  it  was 
Cuddie  had  been  in  sair  straits  a'  night,  and  she  couldna  say 
he  was  muckle  better  this  morning.  The  finger  of  Heaven, 
she  said,  "  was  in  it,  and  her  bairn  should  gang  on  nae  sic 
errands. '''  Pains,  penalties,  and  threats  of  dismission  were 
denounced  in  vain  :  the  mother  was  obstinate,  and  Cuddie, 
who  underwent  a  domiciliary  visitation  for  the  purpose  of 
verifying  his  state  of  body,  could,  or  would,  answer  only  by 
deep  groans.  Mause,  who  had  been  an  ancient  domestic  in 
the  family,  was  a  sort  of  favorite  with  Lady  Margaret  and 
presumed  accordingly.  Lady  Margaret  had  herself  set  forth, 
and  her  authority  could  not  be  appealed  to.  In  this  dilemma, 
the  good  genius  of  the  old  butler  suggested  an  expedient. 

*'  He  had  seen  mony  a  braw  callant,  far  less  than  Guse 
Gibbie,  fight  brawly  under  Montrose.  What  for  no  tak  Guse 
Gibbie?'' 

This  was  a  half-witted  lad,  of  very  small  stature,  who  had  a 
kind  of  charge  of  the  poultry  under  the  old  henwife ;  for  in  a 
Scottish  family  of  that  day  there  was  a  wonderful  substitution 
of  labor.  This  urchin,  being  sent  for  from  the  stubble-field, 
was  hastily  muffled  in  the  buff  coat,  and  girded  rather  to  than 
with  the  sword  of  a  full-grown  man,  his  little  legs  plunged  into 
jack-boots,  and  a  steel  cap  put  upon  his  head,  which  seemed, 
from  its  size,  as  if  it  had  been  intended  to  extinguish  him. 
Thus  accoutred  he  was  hoisted,  at  his  o^vn  earnest  request, 
upon  the  quietest  horse  of  the  party ;  and  prompted  and 
supported  by  old  Gudyill  the  butler  as  his  front  file  he  passed 
muster  tolerably  enough,  the  sheriff  not  caring  to  examine 
too  closely  the  recruits  of  so  well-affected  a  person  as  Ladj 
Margaret  Bellenden.^ 


id'  7/ A  VERLEY  AO  VEL^ 

To  the  above  cause  it  was  owing  that  the  personal  retinne 
of  Lady  Margaret,  on  this  eventful  day,  amounted  only  to  two 
lackeys,  with  which  diminished  train  she  would  on  any  other 
occasion  have  been  much  ashamed  to  appear  in  public.  But 
for  the  cause  of  royalty  she  was  ready  at  any  time  to  have 
made  the  most  unreserved  personal  sacrifices.  She  had  lost 
her  husband  and  two  promising  sons  in  the  civil  wars  of  that 
unhappy  period  ;  but  she  had  received  her  reward,  for,  on  his 
route  through  the  west  of  Scotland  to  meet  Cromwell  in  the 
unfortunate  field  of  "Worcester,  Charles  the  Second  had  actually 
breakfasted  at  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem  ;  an  incident  which 
formed  from  that  moment  an  important  era  in  the  life  of 
Lady  Margaret,  who  seldom  afterwards  partook  of  that  meal, 
either  at  home  or  abroad,  without  detailmg  the  whole  circum- 
stances of  the  royal  visit,  not  forgetting  the  salutation  which 
his  Majesty  conferred  on  each  side  of  her  face,  though  she 
sometimes  omitted  to  notice  that  he  bestowed  the  same  favor 
on  two  buxom  serving- wenches  who  appeared  at  her  back, 
elevated  for  the  day  into  the  capacity  of  waiting  gentle- 
women. 

These  instances  of  royal  favor  were  decisive  ;  and  if  Lady 
M!argaret  had  not  been  a  confirmed  Royalist  already,  from 
sense  of  high  birth,  influence  of  education,  and  hatred  to  the 
opposite  party,  through  whom  she  had  suffered  such  domestic 
calamity,  the  having  given  a  breakfast  to  majesty,  and  received 
the  royal  salute  in  return,  were  honors  enough  of  themselves  to 
unite  her  exclusively  to  the  fortunes  of  the  Stewarts.  These 
were  now,  in  all  appearance,  triumphant ;  but  Lady  Mar- 
garet's zeal  had  adhered  to  them  through  the  worst  of  times,  and 
was  ready  to  sustain  the  same  severities  of  fortune  should  their 
scale  once  more  kick  the  beam.  At  present  she  enjoyed,  in 
full  extent,  the  military  display  of  the  force  which  stood  ready 
to  support  the  crown,  and  stifled  as  well  as  she  could  the  mor- 
tification she  felt  at  the  unworthy  desertion  of  her  own  re- 
tainers. 

Many  civilities  passed  between  her  ladyship  and  the  rep- 
resentatives of  sundry  anelent  loyal  families  who  were  upon 
the  ground,  by  whom  she  was  held  in  high  reverence  ;  and  not 
a  young  man  of  rank  passed  by  them  in  the  course  of  the 
muster  but  he  carried  his  body  more  erect  in  the  saddle,  and 
threw  his  horse  upon  its  haunches,  to  display  his  own  horse- 
manship and  the  perfect  bitting  of  his  steed  to  the  best  advan- 
tage in  the  eyes  of  Miss  Edith  Bellenden.  But  the  young 
Cavaliers,  distinguished  by  high  descent  and  undoubted  loy- 
alty, attracted  no  more  attention  from  Edith  than  the  laws 


OLD  MORTALITY  17 

of  conrtesy  peremptorily  demanded ;  and  she  tnmed  an  in- 
different ear  to  the  compliments  with  which  she  was  addressed, 
most  of  which  were  little  the  worse  for  the  wear,  though 
borrowed  for  the  nonce  from  the  laborious  and  long-winded 
romances  of  Calprenede  and  Scuderi,  the  mirrors  in  which 
the  youth  of  that  age  delighted  to  dress  themselves,  ere  Folly 
had  thrown  her  ballast  overboard,  and  cut  down  her  vessels 
of  the  first-rate,  such  as  the  romances  of  Cyrus,  Cleopatra, 
and  others,  into  small  ciaft,  drawing  as  little  water,  or,  to 
speak  more  plainly,  consuming  as  little  time,  as  the  little 
cogk-boat  in  which  the  gentle  reader  has  deigned  to  embark. 
It  was,  however,  the  decree  of  fate  that  Miss  Bellenden  should 
not  continue  to  evince  the  same  equanimity  till  the  conclusion 
of  the  day. 


CHAPTER  III 

Horseman  and  horse  confess'd  the  bitter  pang, 
And  arms  and  warrior  fell  with  heavy  clang. 

Pleasures  of  Hope. 

When"  the  military  evolutions  had  been  gone  through  toler- 
ably well,  allowing  for  the  awkwardness  of  men  and  of  horses, 
a  loud  shout  announced  that  the  competitors  were  about  to 
step  forth  for  the  game  of  the  popinjay  already  described.  The 
mast,  or  pole,  having  a  yard  extended  across  it,  from  which 
the  mark  was  displayed,  was  raised  amid  the  acclamations  of 
the  assembly  ;  and  even  those  who  had  eyed  the  evolutions  of 
the  feudal  militia  with  a  sort  of  malignant  and  sarcastic  sneer, 
from  disinclination  to  the  royal  cause  in  which  they  were  pro- 
fessedly embodied,  could  not  refrain  from  taking  considerable 
interest  in  the  strife  which  was  now  approaching.  They 
crowded  towards  the  goal,  and  criticised  the  appearance  of 
each  competitor,  as  they  advanced  in  succession,  discharged 
their  pieces  at  the  mark,  and  had  their  good  or  bad  address 
rewarded  by  the  laughter  or  applause  of  the  spectators.  But 
when  a  slender  young  man,  dressed  with  great  simplicity,  yet 
not  without  a  certain  air  of  pretension  to  elegance  and  gentil- 
ity, approached  the  station  with  his  fusee  in  his  hand,  his 
dark  green  cloak  thrown  back  over  his  shoulder,  his  laced  ruff 
and  feathered  cap  indicating  a  superior  rank  to  the  vulgar, 
there  was  a  murmur  of  interest  among  the  spectators,  whether 
altogether  favorable  to  the  young  adventurer  it  was  difficult 
to  discover. 

"Ewhow,  sirs,  to  see  his  father's  son  at  the  like  o'  thae 
fearless  follies  I "  was  the  ejaculation  of  the  elder  and  more 
rigid  Puritans,  whose  curiosity  had  so  far  overcome  their  big- 
otry as  to  bring  them  to  the  playground.  But  the  generality 
viewed  the  strife  less  morosely,  and  were  contented  to  wish 
success  to  the  son  of  a  deceased  Presbyterian  leader,  without 
strictly  examining  the  propriety  of  his  being  a  competitor  for 
the  prize. 

Their  wishes  were  gratified.  At  the  first  discharge  of  his 
piece  the  green  adventurer  struck  the  popinjay,  being  the 

m 


Shooting  the  popinjay. 


OLD  MORTALITY  19 

first  palpable  hit  of  the  day,  thongh  several  balls  had  passed 
very  near  the  mark.  A  loud  shout  of  applause  ensued.  But 
the  success  was  not  decisive,  it  being  necessary  that  each  who 
followed  should  have  his  chance,  and  that  those  who  succeeded 
in  hitting  the  mark  should  renew  the  strife  among  them- 
selves, till  one  displayed  a  decided  superiority  over  the  others. 
Two  only  of  those  who  followed  in  order  succeeded  in  hitting 
the  popinjay.  The  first  was  a  young  man  of  low  rank, 
heavily  built,  and  who  kept  his  face  muffled  in  his  gray 
cloak  ;  the  second,  a  gallant  young  cavalier,  remarkable  for  a 
handsome  exterior,  sedulously  decorated  for  the  day.  He 
had  been  since  the  muster  in  close  attendance  on  Lady  Mar- 
garet and  Miss  Bellenden,  and  had  left  them  with  an  air  of 
indifference  when  Lady  Margaret  had  asked  whether  there 
was  no  young  man  of  family  and  loyal  principles  who  would 
dispute  the  prize  with  the  two  lads  who  had  been  successful. 
In  half  a  minute  young  Lord  Evandale  threw  himself  from 
his  horse,  borrowed  a  gun  from  a  servant,  and,  as  we  have 
already  noticed,  hit  the  mark.  Great  was  the  interest  excited 
by  the  renewal  of  the  contest  between  the  three  candidates 
who  had  been  hitherto  successful.  The  state  equipage  of 
the  Duke  was,  with  some  difficulty,  put  in  motion,  and  ap- 
proached more  near  to  the  scene  of  action.  The  riders,  both 
male  and  female,  turned  their  horses'  heads  in  the  same  di- 
rection, and  all  eyes  were  bent  upon  the  issue  of  the  trial  of 
skill. 

It  was  the  etiquette  in  the  second  contest,  that  the  com- 
petitors should  take  their  turn  of  firing  after  drawing  lots. 
The  first  fell  upon  the  young  plebeian,  who,  as  he  took  his 
stand,  half  uncloaked  his  rustic  countenance,  and  said  to  the 
gallant  in  green,  ''  Ye  see,  Mr.  Henry,  if  it  were  ony  other 
day,  I  could  hae  wished  to  miss  for  your  sake  ;  but  Jenny 
Dennison  is  looking  at  us,  sae  I  maun  do  my  best.'' 

He  took  his  aim,  and  his  bullet  whistled  past  the  mark  so 
nearly  that  the  pendulous  object  at  which  it  was  directed  was 
seen  to  shiver.  Still,  however,  he  had  not  hit  it,  and,  with 
a  downcast  look,  he  withdrew  himself  from  further  competi- 
tion, and  hastened  to  disappear  from  the  assembly,  as  if  fear- 
ful of  being  recognized.  The  green  chasseur  next  advanced, 
and  his  ball  a  second  time  struck  the  popinjay.  All  shouted;  v- 
and  from  the  outskirts  of  the  assembly  arose  a  cry  of,  **Th^  M 
good  old  cause  forever. l/^ 

^  "While  the  dighltaries  bent  their  brows  at  these  exulting 
shouts  of  the  disaffected,  the  young  Lord  Evandale  advanced 
again  to  the  hazard,  and  again  was  successful.     The  shouts 


20  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  congratulations  of  the  well-affected  and  aristocratical 
part  of  the  audience  attended  his  success,  but  still  a  subse- 
quent trial  of  skill  remained. 

The  green  marksman,  as  if  determined  to  bring  the  affair 
to  a  decision,  took  his  horse  from  a  person  who  held  him, 
having  previously  looked  carefully  to  the  security  of  his  girths 
and  the  fitting  of  his  saddle,  vaulted  on  his  back,  and  motion- 
ing with  his  hand  for  the  bystanders  to  make  way,  set  spurs, 
passed  the  place  from  which  he  was  to  fire  at  a  gallop,  and, 
as  he  passed,  threw  up  the  reins,  turned  sideways  upon  his 
saddle,  discharged  his  carabine,  and  brought  down  the  pop- 
injay. Lord  Evandale  imitated  his  example,  although  many 
around  him  said  it  was  an  innovation  on  the  established  prac- 
tice which  he  was  not  obliged  to  follow.  But  his  skill  was 
not  so  perfect,  or  his  horse  was  not  so  well  trained.  The  ani- 
mal swerved  at  the  moment  his  master  fired,  and  the  ball 
missed  the  popinjay.  Those  who  had  been  surprised  by  the 
address  of  the  green  marksman  were  now  equally  pleased  by 
his  courtesy.  He  disclaimed  all  merit  from  the  last  shot,  and 
proposed  to  his  antagonist  that  it  should  not  be  counted  as  a 
hit,  and  that  they  should  renew  the  contest  on  foot. 

"  I  would  prefer  horseback,  if  I  had  ahorse  as  well  bitted, 
and,  probably,  as  well  broken  to  the  exercise,  as  yours, ^'  said 
the  young  Lord,  addressing  his  antagonist. 

"  Will  you  do  me  the  honor  to  use  him  for  the  next 
trial,  on  condition  you  will  lend  me  yours  ?  "  said  the  young 
gentleman. 

Lord  Evandale  was  ashamed  to  accept  this  courtesy,  as 
conscious  how  much  it  would  diminish  the  value  of  victory  ; 
and  yet,  unable  to  suppress  his  wish  to  redeem  his  reputation 
as  a  marksman,  he  added,  "that  although  he  renounced  all 
pretensions  to  the  honor  of  the  day  (which  he  said  somewhat 
scornfully),  yet,  if  the  victor  had  no  particular  objection,  he 
would  willingly  embrace  his  obliging  offer,  and  change  horses 
with  him  for  the  purpose  of  trying  a  shot  for  love.'^ 

As  he  said  so,  he  looked  boldly  towards  Miss  Bellenden, 
and  tradition  says,  that  the  eyes  of  the  young  tirailleur  trav- 
elled, though  more  covertly,  in  the  same  direction.  The  young 
Lord's  last  trial  was  as  unsuccessful  as  the  former,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  he  preserved  lihe  tone  of  scornful  indif- 
ference which  he  had  hitherto  assumed.  But,  conscious  of 
the  ridicule  which  attaches  itself  to  the  resentment  of  a  los- 
ing party,  he  returned  to  his  antagonist  the  horse  on  which 
he  had  made  his  last  unsuccessful  attempt,  and  received  back 
his  own ;  giving  at  the  same  time,  thanks  to  his  competitor, 


OLD  MORTALITY  '  21 

who,  he  said,  had  re-established  his  favorite  horse  in  his  good 
opinion,  for  he  had  been  in  great  danger  of  transferring  to 
the  poor  nag  the  blame  of  an  inferiority,  which  every  one, 
as  well  as  himself,  must  now  be  satisfied  remained  with  the 
rider.  Having  made  this  speech  in  a  tone  in  which  mortifi- 
cation assumed  the  veil  of  indifference,  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  off  the  gronnd. 

As  is  the  usual  way  of  the  world,  the  applause  and  attention 
even  of  those  whose  wishes  had  favored  Lord  Evandale  were, 
upon  his  decisive  discomfiture,  transferred  to  his  triumphant 
rival. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  what  is  his  name  ? ''  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth 
among  the  gentry  who  were  present,  to  few  of  whom  he  was 
personally  known.  His  style  and  title  having  soon  transpired, 
and  being  within  that  class  whom  a  great  man  might  notice 
without  derogation,  four  of  the  Duke^s  friends,  with  the  obedi- 
ent start  which  poor  Malvolio  ascribes  to  his  imaginary  retinue, 
made  out  to  lead  the  victor  to  his  presence.  As  they  conducted 
him  in  triumph  through  the  crowd  of  spectators,  and  stunned 
him  at  the  same  time  with  their  compliments  on  his  success, 
he  chanced  to  pass,  or  rather  to  be  led,  immediately  in  front 
of  Lady  Margaret  and  her  granddaughter.  The  Captain  of 
the  Popinjay  and  Miss  Bellenden  colored  like  crimson,  as  the 
latter  returned,  with  embarrassed  courtesy,  the  low  inclination 
which  the  victor  made,  even  to  the  saddle-bow,  in  passing  her. 
*^  Do  you  know  that  young  person  ?^^  said  Lady  Margaret. 
"  I — I — have  seen  him,  madam,  at  my  uncle's,  and— ^and 
elsewhere  occasionally,"  stammered  Miss  Edith  Bellenden. 

^^  I  hear  them  say  around  me,''  said  Lady  Margaret,  'Hhat 
the  young  spark  is  the  nephew  of  old  Milnwood. 

**  The  son  of  the  late  Colonel  Morton  of  Milnwood,  who 
commanded  a  regiment  of  horse  with  great  courage  at  Dunbar 
and  Inverkeithing,''  said  a  gentleman  who  sat  on  horseback 
beside  Lady  Margaret. 

"Ay,  and  who,  before  that,  fought  for  the  Covenanters 
both  at  Marstbn  Moor  and  Philiphaugh,"  said  Lady  Margaret, 
sighing  as  she  pronounced  the  last  fatal  words,  which  her 
husband's  death  gave  her  such  sad  reason  to  remember. 

"Your  ladyship's  memory  is  just,"  said  the  gentleman, 
smiling,  "  but  it  were  well  all  that  were  forgot  now." 

"-ff(3  ought  to  remember  it,  Gilbert scleugh,"  returned 
Lady  Margaret,  "and  dispense  with  intruding  himself  into 
the  company  of  those  to  whom  his  name  must  bring  unpleas- 
ing  recollections." 

"  You  forget,  my  dear  lady,"  said  her  nomenclator,  "  that 


22  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  young  gentleman  comes  nere  to  discharge  suit  and  service 
in  name  of  his  uncle.  I  would  every  estate  in  the  country 
sent  out  as  pretty  a  fellow." 

"  His  uncle,  as  well  as  his  umquhile  father,  is  a  Round- 
head, I  presume,"  said  Lady  Margaret. 

**Heisan  old  miser,"  said  Gilbertscleugh,  ''with  whom 
a  broad  piece  would  at  any  time  weigh  down  political  opinions, 
and,  therefore,  although  probably  somewhat  against  the  grain, 
he  sends  the  young  gentleman  to  attend  the  muster  to  save 
pecuniary  pains  and  penalties.  As  for  the  rest,  I  suppose  the 
youngster  is  happy  enough  to  escape  here  for  a  day  from  the 
dulness  of  the  old  house  at  Milnwood,  where  he  sees  nobody 
but  his  hypochondriac  uncle  and  the  favorite  housekeeper." 

''  Do  you  know  how  many  men  and  horse  the  lands  of 
Milnwood  are  rated  at  ?  "  said  the  old  lady,  continuing  her 
inquiry. 

''Two  horsemen  with  complete  harness,"  answered  Gil- 
bertscleugh. 

"  Our  land,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  drawing  herself  up  with 
dignity,  "  has  always  furnished  to  the  muster  eight  men, 
cousin  Gilbertscleugh,  and  often  a  voluntary  aid  of  thrice  the 
number.  I  remember  his  sacred  Majesty  King  Charles,  when 
he  took  his  disjune  at  Tillietudlem,  was  particular  in  in- 
quiring  " 

"I  seethe  Duke's  carriage  in  motion,"  said  Gilbertscleugh, 
partaking  at  the  moment  an  alarm  common  to  all  Lady  Mar- 
garet's friends,  when  she  touched  upon  the  topic  of  the  royal 
visit  at  the  family  mansion — "  I  see  the  Duke's  carriage  in 
motion  ;  I  presume  your  ladyship  will  take  your  right  of  rank 
in  leaving  the  field.  May  I  be  permitted  to  convoy  your  lady- 
ship and  Miss  Bellenden  home  ?  Parties  of  the  wild  Whigs 
have  been  abroad,  and  are  said  to  insult  and  disarm  the  well- 
affected  who  travel  in  small  numbers." 

"  We  thank  you,  cousin  Gilbertscleugh,"  said  Lady  Mar- 
garet ;  "  but  as  we  shall  have  the  escort  of  my  own  people,  I 
trust  we  have  less  need  than  others  to  be  troublesome  to  our 
friends.  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  order  Harrison  to 
bring  up  our  people  somewhat  more  briskly ;  he  rides  them 
towards  us  as  if  he  were  leading  a  funeral  procession." 

The  gentleman  in  attendance  communicated  his  ladjr'a 
orders  to  the  trusty  steward. 

Honest  Harrison  had  his  own  reasons  for  doubting  the  pru- 
dence of  this  command  ;  but,  once  issued  and  received,  there 
was  a  necessityf or  obeying  it.  He  set  off,  therefore,  at  a 
hand -gallop,  loITo  wed  by^e  butler,  in  such  a  military  atti'* 


OLD  MORTALITY  23 

tude  as  became  one  who  had  served  under  Montrose,  and  with 
a  look  of  defiance,  rendered  sterner  and  fiercer  by  the  inspiring 
fumes  of  a  gill  of  brandy,  which  he  had  snatched  a  moment 
to  bolt  to  the  king^s  health  and  confusion  to  the  Covenant, 
during  the  intervals  of  military  duty.  Unhappily  this  potent 
refreshment  wiped  away  from  the  tablets  of  his  memory  the 
necessity  of  paying  some  attention  to  the  distresses  and  diffi- 
culties of  his  rear-file.  Goose  Gibbie.  No  sooner  had  the 
horses  struck  a  canter  than  Gibbie^s  jack-boots,  which  the 
poor  boy's  legs  were  incapable  of  steadying,  began  to  play  al- 
ternately against  the  horse's  flanks,  and,  being  armed  with 
long-ro welled  spurs,  overcame  the  patience  of  the  animal, 
which  bounced  and  plunged,  while  poor  Gibbie's  entreaties 
for  aid  never  reached  the  ears  of  the  too  heedless  butler,  being 
drowned  partly  in  the  concave  of  the  steel  cap  in  which  his 
head  was  immersed,  and  partly  in  the  martial  tune  of  the 
"  Gallant  Graemes,"  which  Mr.  Gudyill  whistled  with  all  his 
power  of  lungs. 

The  upshot  was  that  the  steed  speedily  took  the  matter 
into  his  own  hands,  and  having  gambolled  hither  and  thither 
to  the  great  amusement  of  all  spectators,  set  off  at  full  speed 
towards  the  huge  family  coach  already  described.  Gibbie's 
pike,  escaping  from  its  sling,  had  fallen  to  a  level  direction 
across  his  hands,  which,  I  grieve  to  say,  were  seeking  dishon- 
orable safety  in  as  strong  a  grasp  of  the  mane  as  their  mus- 
cles could  manage.  His  casque,  too,  had  slipped  completely 
over  his  face,  so  that  he  saw  as  little  in  front  as  he  did  in 
rear.  Indeed,  if  he  could,  it  would  have  availed  him  little  in 
the  circumstances  ;  for  his  horse,  as  if  in  league  with  the 
disaffected,  ran  full  tilt  towards  the  solemn  equipage  of  the 
Duke,  which  the  projecting  lance  threatened  to  perforate 
from  window  to  window,  at  the  risk  of  transfixing  as  many  in 
its  passage  as  the  celebrated  thrust  of  Orlando,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  Italian  epic  poet,  broached  as  many  Moors  as  a 
Frenchman  spits  frogs. 

On  beBolding  the  bent  of  this  misdirected  career,  a  panic 
shout  of  mingled  terror  and  wrath  was  set  up  by  the  whole 
equipage,  insides  and  outsides  at  once,  which  had  the  happy 
effect  of  averting  the  threatened  misfortune.  The  capricious 
horse  of  Goose  Gibbie  was  terrified  by  the  noise,  and  stum- 
bling as  he  turned  short  round,  kicked  and  plunged  violently 
as  soon  as  he  recovered.  The  jack-boots,  the  original  cause 
of  the  disaster,  maintaining  the  reputation  they  had  acquired 
when  worn  by  better  cavaliers,  answered  every  plunge  by  a 
fresh  prick  of  the  spurs,  and  by  their  ponderous  weight  kept 


24  WAVERLEY  NOVELS' 

their  place  in  the  stirrups.  ISTot  so  Goose  Gibbie,  who  was 
fairly  spurned  out  of  those  wide  and  weighty  greaves,  and  pre- 
cipitated over  the  horse's  head,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of 
all  the  spectators.  His  lance  and  helmet  had  forsaken  him 
in  his  fall,  and,  for  the  completion  of  his  disgrace.  Lady  Mar- 
garet Bellenden,  not  perfectly  aware  that  it  was  one  of  her 
own  warriors  who  was  furnishing  so  much  entertainment, 
came  up  in  time  to  see  her  diminutive  man-at-arms  stripped 
of  his  lion's  hide — of  the  buff  coat,  that  is,  in  which  he  was 
muffled. 

As  she  had  not  been  made  acquainted  with  this  metamor- 
phosis, and  could  not  even  guess  its  cause,  her  surprise  and 
resentment  were  extreme,  nor  were  they  much  modified  by 
the  excuses  and  explanations  of  her  steward  and  butler.  She 
made  a  hasty  retreat  homeward,  extremely  indignant  at  the 
shouts  and  laughter  of  the  company,  and  much  disposed  to 
vent  her  displeasure  on  the  refractory  agriculturist  whose  place 
Goose  Gibbie  had  so  unhappily  supplied.  The  greater  part 
of  the  gentry  now  dispersed,  the  whimsical  misfortune  which 
had  befallen  the  gensdarmerie  of  Tillietudlem  furnishing  them 
with  huge  entertainment  on  their  road  homeward.  The  horse- 
men also,  in  little  parties,  as  their  road  lay  together,  diverged 
from  the  place  of  rendezvous,  excepting  such  as,  having  tried 
their  dexterity  at  the  popinjay,  were,  by  ancient  custom, 
obliged  to  partake  of  a  grace-cup  with  their  captain  before 
their  departure. 


CHAPTER  IV 

At  fairs  he  play'd  before  the  spearmen, 

And  gaily  graithed  in  their  gear  then, 

Steel  bonnets,  pikes,  and  swords  shone  clear  then 

As  ony  bead  ; 
Now  wha  sail  play  before  sic  weir-men, 

Since  Habbie's  dead  ? 

Elegy  on  Habbie  Simpson. 

The  cavalcade  of  horsemen  on  their  road  to  the  little  borongh- 
town  were  preceded  by  Niel  Blane,  the  town-piper,  mounted 
on  his  white  galloway,  armed  with  his  dirk  and  broadsword, 
and  bearing  a  chanter  streaming  with  as  many  ribbons  as 
would  deck  out  six  country  belles  for  a  fair  or  preaching. 
Niel,  a  clean,  tight,  well-timbered,  long-winded  fellow,  had 

gained  the  official  situation  of  town-piper  of by  his  merit, 

with  all  the  emoluments  thereof  ;  namely,  the  piper's  croft, 
as  it  is  still  called,  a  field  of  about  an  acre  in  extent,  five  merks, 
and  a  new  livery-coat  of  the  town's  colors,  yearly  ;  some  hopes 
of  a  dollar  upon  the  day  of  the  election  of  magistrates,  provid- 
ing the  provost  were  able  and  willing  to  afford  such  a  gratuity  ; 
and  the  privilege  of  paying,  at  all  the  respectable  houses  in 
the  neighborhood,  an  annual  visit  at  spring-time,  to  rejoice 
their  hearts  with  his  music,  to  comfort  his  own  with  their  ale 
and  brandy,  and  to  beg  from  each  a  modicum  of  seed-corn. 

In  addition  to  these  inestimable  advantages,  Kiel's  personal 
or  professional  accomplishments  won  the  heart  of  a  jolly 
widow  who  then  kept  the  principal  change-house  in  the  bor- 
ough. Her  former  husband  having  been  a  strict  Presbyterian, 
of  such  note  that  he  usually  went  among  his  sect  by  the  name 
of  G-aius  the  Publican,  many  of  the  more  rigid  were  scanda- 
lized by  the  profession  of  the  successor  whom  his  relict  had 
chosen  for  a  second  helpmate.  As  the  '*  browst "  or  brewing 
of  the  Howff  retained,  nevertheless,  its  unrivalled  reputation, 
most  of  the  old  customers  continued  to  give  it  a  preference. 
The  character  of  the  new  landlord,  indeed,  was  of  that  ac- 
commodating kind  which  enabled  him,  by  close  attention  to 
the  helm,  to  keep  his  little  vessel  pretty  steady  amid  the  con- 
tending tides  of  faction.     He  was  a  good-humored,  shrewd. 


26  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

selfish  sort  of  fellow,  indifferent  alike  to  the  disputes  about 
church  and  state,  and  only  anxious  to  secure  the  good-will  of 
customers  of  every  description.  But  his  character,  as  well  as 
the  state  of  the  country,  will  be  best  understood  by  giving 
the  reader  an  account  of  the  instructions  which  he  issued  to 
his  daughter,  a  girl  about  eighteen,  whom  he  was  initiating 
in  those  cares  which  had  been  faithfully  discharged  by  his 
wife,  until  about  six  months  before  our  story  commences, 
when  the  honest  woman  had  been  carried  to  the  kirkyard. 

"Jenny,"  said  Niel  Blane,  as  the  girl  assisted  to  disen- 
cumber him  of  his  bagpipes,  *'this  is  the  first  day  that  ye  are 
to  take  the  place  of  your  worthy  mother  in  attending  to  the 
public  ;  a  douce  woman  she  was,  civil  to  the  customers,  and 
had  a  good  name  wi'  Whig  and  Tory,  baith  up  the  street  and 
down  the  street.  It  will  be  hard  for  you  to  fill  her  place,  es- 
pecially on  sic  a  thrang  day  as  this  ;  but  Heaven^s  will  maun 
be  obeyed.  Jenny,  whatever  Milnwood  ca's  for,  be  sure  he 
maun  hae't,  for  he's  the  Captain  o'  the  Popinjay,  and  auld 
customs  maun  be  supported  ;  if  he  canna  pay  the  lawing  him- 
sell,  as  I  ken  he's  keepit  unco  short  by  the  head.  111  find  a 
way  to  shame  it  out  o'  his  uncle.  The  curate  is  playing  at 
dice  wi'  Cornet  Grahame.  Be  eident  and  civil  to  them  baith  ; 
clergy  and  captains  can  gie  an  unco  deal  o'  fash  in  thae  times, 
where  they  take  an  ill-will.  The  dragoons  will  be  crying  for 
ale,  and  they  wunna  want  it,  and  maunna  want  it ;  they  are  un- 
ruly chields,  but  they  pay  ane  some  gate  or  other.  I  gat  the 
humlie-cow,  that's  the  best  in  the  byre,  frae  black  Frank  Inglis 
and  Sergeant  Bothwell  for  ten  pund  Scots,  and  they  drank 
out  the  price  at  ae  downsitting." 

"But, father,"  interrupted  Jenny,  "  they  say  the  twa reiv- 
ing loons  drave  the  cow  frae  the  gudewife  o'  Bell's  Moor,  just 
because  she  gaed  to  hear  a  field-preaching  ae  Sabbath  after- 
noon." 

"  Whisht !  ye  silly  tawpie,"  said  her  father,  "  we  have  nae- 
thing  to  do  how  they  come  by  the  bestial  they  sell ;  be  that 
atween  them  and  their  consciences.  Aweel,  take  notice,  Jenny, 
of  that  dour,  stour-looking  carle  that  sits  by  the  cheek  o'  the 
ingle  <ind  turns  his  back  on  a'  men.  He  looks  like  ane  o'  the 
hill-folk,  for  I  saw  him  start  a  wee  when  he  saw  the  redcoats, 
and  I  jalouse  he  wad  hae  liked  to  hae  ridden  by,  but  his  horse 
— it's  a  gude  gelding — was  ower  sair  travailed  ;  he  behoved  to 
stop  whether  he  wad  or  no.  Serve  him  cannily,  Jenny,  and 
wi'  little  din,  and  dinna  bring  the  sodgers  on  hii.  ^  speering 
ony  questions  at  him  ;  but  let  na  him  hae  a  room  to  himsell, 
they   wad  say  we  were  hiding  him.     For  yoursell,  Jenny, 


OLD  MORTALITY  27 

yell  be  civil  to  a'  the  folk,  and  take  nae  heed  o*  ony  nonsense 
and  dafiBng  the  young  lads  may  say  t'ye.  Folk  in  the  hostler 
line  maun  pit  up  wi"  muckle.  Your  mither,  rest  her  saul, 
could  pit  up  wi^  as  muckle  as  maist  women,  but  aff  hands  is 
fair  play  ;  and  if  onybody  be  unciyil  ye  may  gie  me  a  cry. 
Aweel,  when  the  malt  begins  to  get  aboon  the  meal,  they'll 
begin  to  speak  about  government  in  kirk  and  state,  and  then, 
Jenny,  they  are  like  to  quarrel.  Let  them  be  doing  :  anger's 
a  drouthy  passion,  and  the  mair  they  dispute,  the  mair  ale 
they'll  drink  ;  but  ye  were  best  serve  them  wi'  a  pint  o'  the  sma' 
browst,  it  will  heat  them  less,  and  they'll  never  ken  the  differ- 
ence." 

'*  But,  father,"  said  Jenny,  *'if  they  come  to  lounder  ilk 
ither,  as  they  did  the  last  time,  suldna  I  cry  on  you  ?  " 

''  At  no  hand,  Jenny  ;  the  redder  gets  aye  the  warst  lick 
in  the  fray.  If  the  sodgers  draw  their  swords,  ye'll  cry  on  the 
corporal  and  the  guard.  If  the  country  folk  tak  the  tangs 
and  poker,  ye'll  cry  on  the  bailie  and  town-officers.  But  in 
nae  event  cry  on  me,  for  I  am  wearied  wi'  doudling  the  bago' 
wind  a'  day,  and  I  am  gaun  to  eat  my  dinner  quietly  in  the 
spence.  And  now  I  think  on't,  the  Laird  of  Lickitup — that's 
him  that  was  the  laird — was  speering  for  sma'  drink  and  a 
saut  herring.  Gie  him  a  pu'  be  the  sleeve,  and  round  into  his 
lug  I  wad  be  blithe  o'  his  company  to  dine  wi'  me  ;  he  was  a 
gude  customer  anes  in  a  day,  and  wants  naething  but  means 
to  be  a  gude  ane  again  :  he  likes  drink  as  weel  as  e'er  he  did. 
And  if  ye  ken  ony  puir  body  o'  our  acquaintance  that's  blate 
for  want  o'  siller,  and  has  far  to  gang  hame,  ye  needna  stick 
to  gie  them  a  waught  o'  drink  and  a  bannock  ;  we'll  ne'er 
miss't,  and  it  looks  creditable  in  a  house  like  ours.  And  now, 
hinny,  gang  awa'  and  serve  the  folk  ;  but  first  bring  me  my 
dinner,  and  twa  chappins  o'  yill  and  the  mutchkin  stoup  o' 
brandy." 

Having  thus  devolved  his  whole  cares  on  Jenny  as  prime 
minister,  N iel  Blane  and  the  ci-devant  laird,  once  his  patron, 
but  now  glad  to  be  his  trencher-companion,  sat  down  to  en- 
joy themselves  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening,  remote  from 
the  bustleof  the  public  room. 

All  in  J  enny's  department  was  in  full  activity.  The  knights 
of  the  popinjay  received  and  requited  the  hospitable  enter- 
tainment of  their  captain,  who,  though  he  spared  the  cup 
himself,  took  care  it  should  go  round  with  due  celerity  among 
the  rest,  who  might  not  have  otherwise  deemed  themselves 
handsomely  treated.  Their  numbers  melted  away  by  degrees, 
and  were  at  length  diminished  +o  four  or  five,  who  began  to 


28  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

talk  of  breaking  up  their  party.  At  another  table,  at  some 
distance,  sat  two  of  the  dragoons  whom  Niel  Blane  had  men- 
tioned, a  sergeant  and  a  private  in  the  celebrated  John 
Grahame  of  Olaverhouse's  regiment  of  Life  Guards.  Even 
the  non-commissioned  officers  and  privates  in  these  corps  were 
not  considered  as  ordinary  mercenaries,  but  rather  approached 
to  the  rank  of  the  French  mousquetaires,  being  regarded  in 
the  light  of  cadets,  who  performed  the  duties  of  rank  and  file 
with  the  prospect  of  obtaining  commissions  in  case  of  distin- 
guishing themselves. 

Many  young  men  of  good  families  were  to  be  found  in  the 
ranks,  a  circumstance  which  added  to  the  pride  and  self-con- 
sequence of  these  troops.  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  oc- 
curred in  the  person  of  the  non-commissioned  officer  in  ques- 
tion. His  real  name  was  Francis  Stewart ;  but  he  was 
universally  known  by  the  appellation  of  Both  well,  being  line- 
ally descended  from  the  last  earl  of  that  name,  not  the 
infamous  lover  of  the  unfortunate  Queen  Mary,  but  Francis 
Stewart,  Earl  of  Bothwell,  whose  turbulence  and  repeated 
conspiracies  embarrassed  the  early  part  of  James  Sixth's 
reign,  and  who  at  length  died  in  exile  in  great  poverty.  The 
son  of  this  earl  had  sued  to  Charles  I.  for  the  restitution  of 
part  of  his  father's  forfeited  estates  ;  but  the  grasp  of  the 
nobles  to  whom  they  had  been  allotted  was  too  tenacious  to 
be  unclinched.  The  breaking  out  of  the  civil  wars  utterly 
ruined  him,  by  intercepting  a  small  pension  which  Charles  I. 
had  allowed  him,  and  he  died  in  the  utmost  indigence.  His 
son,  who,  after  having  served  as  a  soldier  abroad  and  in  Britain, 
had  passed  through  several  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  was  fain 
to  content  himself  with  the  situation  of  a  non-commissioned 
officer  in  the  Life  Guards,  although  lineally  descended  from 
the  royal  family,  the  father  of  the  forfeited  Earl  of  Bothwell 
having  been  a  natural  son  of  James  V.*  Great  personal 
strength,  and  dexterity  in  the  use  of  his  arms,  as  well  as  the 
remarkable  circumstances  of  his  descent,  had  recommended 
this  man  to  the  attention  of  his  officers.  But  he  partook  in 
a  great  degree  of  the  licentiousness  and  oppressive  disposition 
which  the  habit  of  acting  as  agents  for  government  in  levying 
fines,  exacting  free  quarters,  and  otherwise  oppressing  the 
Presbyterian  recusants,  had  rendered  too  general  among  these 
soldiers.  They  were  so  much  accustomed  to  such  missions, 
that  they  conceived  themselves  at  liberty  to  commit  all  man- 
ner of  license  with  impunity,  as  if  totally  exempted  from 
all  law  and  authority,  excepting  the  command  of  their  offi* 

*  dee  Sergeant  BothweU.    NoteS. 


OLD  MORTALITY  29 

cers.  On  such  occasions  Bothwell  was  usually  the  most  for- 
ward. 

It  is  probable  that  Bothwell  and  his  companions  would 
not  so  long  have  remained  quiet  but  for  respect  to  the 
presence  of  their  cornet,  who  commanded  the  small  party 
quartered  in  the  borough,  and  who  was  engaged  in  a  game  at 
dice  with  the  curate  of  the  place.  But  both  of  these  being 
suddenly  called  from  their  amusement  to  speak  with  the 
chief  magistrate  upon  some  urgent  business,  Bothwell  was 
not  long  of  evincing  his  contempt  for  the  rest  of  the  company. 

'^  Is  it  not  a  strange  thing,  Halliday,'''  he  said  to  his  com- 
rade, ^'to  see  a  set  of  bumpkins  sit  carousing  here  this  whole 
evening  without  having  drunk  the  king's  health  ?" 

'^  They  have  drank  the  king's  health,"  said  Halliday. 
"  I  heard  that  green  kail-worm  of  a  lad  name  his  Majesty's 
health." 

"Did  he?"  said  Bothwell.  '^  Then,  Tom,  we'll  have 
them  drink  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews'  health,  and  do 
it  on  their  knees  too." 

"  So  we  will,  by  G — ,"  said  Halliday ;  ''  and  he  that  re- 
fuses it,  we'll  have  him  to  the  guard-house,  and  teach  him 
to  ride  the  colt  foaled  of  an  acorn,  with  a  brace  of  carabines 
at  each  foot  to  keep  him  steady." 

*'  Right,  Tom,"  continued  Bothwell  ;  "  and,  to  do  all 
things  in  order,  I'll  begin  with  that  sulky  blue-bonnet  in  the 
ingle-nook." 

He  rose  accordingly,  and  taking  his  sheathed  broad- 
sword under  his  arm  to  support  the  insolence  which  he  med- 
itated, placed  himself  in  front  of  the  stranger  noticed  by 
Niel  Blane,  in  his  admonitions  to  his  daughter,  as  being, 
in  all  probability,  one  of  the  hill-folk,  or  refractory  Presby- 
terians. 

"I  make  so  bold  as  to  request  of  your  precision,  beloved,*' 
said  the  trooper,  in  a  tone  of  affected  solemnity,  and  as- 
suming the  snuffle  of  a  country  preacher,  **that  you  will 
arise  from  your  seat,  beloved,  and,  having  bent  your  hams 
until  your  knees  do  rest  upon  the  floor,  beloved,  that  you 
will  turn  over  this  measure,  called  by  the  profane  a  gill,  of 
the  comfortable  creature,  which  the  carnal  denominate 
brandy,  to  the  health  and  glorification  of  his  Grace  the  Arch- 
bishop of  St.  Andrews,  the  worthy  primate  of  all  Scotland." 

All  waited  for  the  stranger's  answer.  His  features,  aus- 
tere even  to  ferocity,  with  a  cast  of  eye  which,  without  being 
actually  oblique,  approached  nearly  to  a  squint,  and  which 
gave  a  very  sinister  expression  to  his  countenance,  joined  to 


80  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  frame,  square,  strong,  and  muscular,  though  something 
under  the  middle  size,  seemed  to  announce  a  man  unlikely 
to  understand  rude  jesting,  or  to  receive  insults  with  im- 
punity. 

'*And  what  is  the  consequence,"  said  he,  *^if  I  should 
not  be  disposed  to  comply  with  your  uncivil  request  ?  " 

''The  consequence  thereof,  beloved,"  said  Bothwell,  in 
the  same  tone  of  raillery,  **  will  be,  firstly,  that  I  will  tweak 
thy  proboscis  or  nose.  Secondly,  beloved,  that  I  will  admin- 
ister my  fist  to  thy  distorted  visual  optics  ;  and  will  conclude, 
beloved,  with  a  practical  application  of  the  flat  of  my  sword 
to  the  shoulders  of  the  recusant." 

''Is  it  even  so  ?"  said  the  stranger;  "then  give  me  the 
cup  ; "  and,  taking  it  in  his  hand,  he  said,  with  a  peculiar 
expression  of  voice  and  manner,  "  The  Archbishop  of  St. 
Andrews,  and  the  place  he  now  worthily  holds ;  may  each 
prelate  in  Scotland  soon  be  as  the  Eight  Reverend  James 
Sharp!" 

"  He  has  taken  the  test,"  said  Halliday,  exultingly. 

"But  with  a  qualification,"  said  Bothwell;  "I  don^i 
understand  what  the  devil  the  crop-eared  Whig  means." 

"  Come,  gentlemen,"  said  Morton,  who  became  impatient 
of  their  insolence,  "we  are  here  met  as  good  subjects,  and  on 
a  merry  occasion  ;  and  we  have  a  right  to  expect  we  shall  not 
be  troubled  with  this  sort  of  discussion." 

Bothwell  was  about  to  make  a  surly  answer,  but  Halliday 
reminded  him  in  a  whisper  that  there  were  strict  injunctions 
that  the  soldiers  should  give  no  offence  to  the  men  who  were 
sent  out  to  the  musters  agreeably  to  the  councils  orders.  So, 
after  honoring  Morton  with  a  broad  and  fierce  stare,  he  said, 
"  Well,  Mr.  Popinjay,  I  shall  not  disturb  your  reign  ;  I  reckon 
it  will  be  out  by  twelve  at  night.  Is  it  not  an  odd  thing, 
Halliday,"  he  continued,  addressing  his  companion,  "that 
they  should  make  such  a  fuss  about  cracking  off  their  birding- 
pieces  at  a  mark  which  any  woman  or  boy  could  hit  at  a  day's 
practice  ?  If  Captain  Popiniay  now,  or  any  of  his  troop, 
would  try  a  bout,  either  with  the  broadsword,  backsword, 
single  rapier,  or  rapier  and  dagger,  for  a  gold  noble,  the  first- 
drawn  blood,  there  would  be  some  soul  in  it ;  or,  zounds, 
would  the  bumpkins  but  wrestle,  or  pitch  the  bar,  or  put  the 
stone,  or  throw  the  axletree,  if  (^touching  the  end  of  Morton's 
sword  scornfully  with  his  toe)  tliey  carry  things  about  them 
that  they  are  afraid  to  draw." 

Morton's  patience  and  prudence  now  gave  way  entirely, 
and  he  was  about  to  make  a  very  angry  answer  to  Both- 


OLD  MORTALITY  31 

well's  insolent  observations  when  the  stranger  stepped  for- 
ward. 

''  This  is  my  quarrel,"  he  said,  ''  and  in  the  name  of  the 
good  cause  I  will  see  it  out  myself.  Hark  thee,  friend  (to 
Bothwell)  wilt  thou  wrestle  a  fall  with  me  ?" 

^^  With  my  whole  spirit,  beloved,"  answered  Bothwell ; 
'*  yea,  I  will  strive  with  thee,  to  the  downfall  of  one  or 
both." 

*^  Then,  as  my  trust  is  in  Him  that  can  help,"  retorted  his 
antagonist,  ' '  I  will  forthwith  make  thee  an  example  to  all 
such  railing  Rabshakehs." 

With  that  he  dropped  his  coarse  gray  horseman's  coat  from 
his  shoulders,  and  extending  his  strong  brawny  arms  with  a 
look  of  determined  resolution,  he  offered  himself  to  the  contest. 
The  soldier  was  nothing  abashed  by  the  muscular  frame,  broad 
chest,  square  shoulders,  and  hardy  look  of  his  antagonist,  but 
whistling  with  great  composure,  unbuckled  his  belt,  and  laid 
aside  his  military  coat.  The  company  stood  round  them, 
anxious  for  the  event. 

In  the  first  struggle  the  trooper  seemed  to  have  some  ad- 
vantage, and  also  in  the  second,  though  neither  could  be  con- 
sidered as  decisive.  But  it  was  plain  he  had  put  his  whole 
strength  too  suddenly  forth  against  an  antagonist  possessed  of 
great  endurance,  skill,  vigor,  and  length  of  wind.  In  the 
third  close  the  countryman  lifted  his  opponent  fairly  from  the 
floor  and  hurled  him  to  the  ground  with  such  violence  that  he 
lay  for  an  instant  stunned  and  motionless.  His  comrade 
Halliday  immediately  drew  his  sword  :  '*  You  have  killed  my 
sergeant,"  he  exclaimed  to  the  victorious  wrestler;  **and  by 
all  that  is  sacred  you  shall  answer  it ! " 

'* Stand  back!"  cried  Morton  and  his  companions.  "It 
was  all  fair  play  ;  your  comrade  sought  a  fall,  and  he  has  got  it. " 

"  That  is  true  enough,"  said  Bothwell,  as  he  slowly  rose  ; 
"put  up  your  bilbo,  Tom.  I  did  not  think  there  was  a  crop- 
ear  of  them  all  could  have  laid  the  best  cap  and  feather  in  the 
King's  Life  Guards  on  the  floor  of  a  rascally  change-house. 
Hark  ye,  friend,  give  me  your  hand."  The  stranger  held  out 
his  hand.  "I  promise  you,"  said  Bothwell,  squeezing  his 
hand  very  hard,  "  that  the  time  will  come  when  we  shall  meet 
again  and  try  this  game  over  in  a  more  earnest jmanner." 

"And  I'll  promise  you,"  said  the  stranger,  returning  the 
grasp  with  equal  firmness,  "that  when  we  next  meet  I  will 
lay  your  head  as  low  as  it  lay  even  now,  when  you  shall  lack 
the  power  to  lift  it  up  again." 

"Well,  beloved,"  answered  Bothwell,  "if  thou  be'st  a 


# 
32  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Whig,  thou  art  a  stout  and  a  brave  one,  and  so  good  eyen  to 
thee.  Hadst  best  take  thy  nag  before  the  Cornet  makes  the 
round ;  for  I  promise  thee  he  has  stay'd  less  suspicious-looking 
persons/^ 

The  stranger  seemed  to  think  that  the  hint  was  not  to  be 
neglected ;  he  flung  down  his  reckoning,  and  going  into  the 
stable,  saddled  and  brought  out  a  powerful  black  horse,  now 
recruited  by  rest  and  forage,  and  turning  to  Morton,  observed, 
"  I  ride  towards  Milnwood,  which  I  hear  is  your  home  ;  will 
you  give  me  the  advantage  and  protection  of  your  company  ?" 

'^  Certainly,^'  said  Morton,  although  there  was  something 
of  gloomy  and  relentless  severity  in  the  man^s  manner  from 
which  his  mind  recoiled.  His  companions,  after  a  courteous 
good-night,  broke  up  and  went  off  in  different  directions,  some 
keej)ing  them  company  for  about  a  mile,  until  they  dropped 
off  one  by  one,  and  the  travellers  were  left  alone. 

The  company  had  not  long  left  the  Howff,  as  Blane's  pub- 
lic-house was  called,  when  the  trumpets  and  kettle-drums 
sounded.  The  troopers  got  under  arms  in  the  market-place 
at  this  unexpected  summons,  while,  with  faces  of  anxiety  and 
earnestness.  Cornet  Grahame,  a  kinsman  of  Claverhouse,  and 
the  provost  of  the  borough,  followed  by  half  a  dozen  soldiers 
and  town-officers  with  halberts,  entered  the  apartment  of  Kiel 
Blane. 

**  Guard  the  doors  ! "  were  the  first  words  which  the  Cor- 
net spoke  ;  "let  no  man  leave  the  house.  So,  Both  well,  how 
comes  this  ?     Did  you  not  hear  them  sound  boot  and  saddle  ?  " 

"  He  was  just  going  to  quarters,  sir,^'  said  his  comrade  ; 
"  he  has  had  a  bad  fall.^^ 

"  In  a  fray,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Grahame.  "  If  you  neglect 
duty  in  this  way,  your  royal  blood  will  hardly  protect  you.^' 

*'  How  have  I  neglected  duty  ?  "  said  Both  well,  sulkily. 

"  You  should  have  been  at  quarters.  Sergeant  Both  well,'* 
replied  the  officer ;  "  you  have  lost  a  golden  opportunity. 
Here  are  news  come  that  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews  has 
been  strangely  and  foully  assassinated  by  a  body  of  the  rebel 
Whigs,  who  pursued  and  stopped  his  carriage  on  Magus 
Muir,  near  the  town  of  St.  Andrews,  dragged  him  out,  and 
despatched  him  with  their  swords  and  daggers. '** 

All  stood  aghast  at  the  intelligence. 

"  Here  are  their  descriptions,  continued  the  Cornet,  pull- 
ing out  a  proclamation  ;  "  the  reward  of  a  thousand  merks  is 
on  each  of  their  heads." 

"  The  test,  the  test,  and  the  qualification  \"  said  Both- 

*  See  Assassination  of  Arcbbishop  Sharp.    Note  6. 


OLD  MORTALITY  33 

well  to  Halliday  ;  '^  I  know  the  meaning  now.  Zounds,  that 
we  should  not  have  stopped  him  !  Go,  saddle  our  horses,  Hal- 
liday. Was  there  one  of  the  men.  Cornet,  very  stout  and 
square-made, double- chested,  thin  in  the  flanks,  hawk-nosed  ?  '* 

"  Stay,  stay,^'  said  Cornet  Grahame,  "let  me  look  at  the 
paper.     Hackston  of  Rathillet,  tall,  thin,  black-haired.^^ 

"  That  is  not  my  man,^'  said  Bothwell. 

'^  John  Balfour,  called  Burley,  aquiline  nose,  red-haired, 
five  feet  eight  inches  in  height — —" 

^'  It  is  he — it  is  the  very  man  !  "  said  Bothwell ;  ''  skellies 
fearfully  with  one  eye  ?  '^ 

"  Right,''  continued  Grahame  ;  *'  rode  a  strong  black  horse, 
taken  from  th3  primate  at  the  time  of  the  murder." 

"The  very  man,''  exclaimed  Bothwell,  "and  the  very 
horse !     He  was  in  this  room  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour  since.'* 

A  few  hasty  inquiries  tended  still  more  to  confirm  the 
opinion  that  the  reserved  and  stern  stranger  was  Balfour  of 
Burley,  the  actual  commander  of  the  band  of  assassins  who, 
in  the  fury  of  misguided  zeal,  had  murdered  the  primate  whom 
they  accidently  met  as  they  were  searching  for  another  per- 
son against  whom  they  bore  enmity.*  In  their  excited  imag- 
ination the  casual  rencounter  had  the  appearance  of  a  provi- 
dential interference,  and  they  put  to  death  the  arch  bishop,  with 
circumstances  of  great  and  cold-blooded  cruelty,  under  the 
belief  that  the  Lord,  as  they  expressed  it,  had  delivered  him 
into  their  hands.  \ 

"  Horse,  horse,  and  pursue,  my  lads  !  "  exclaimed  Cornet 
Grahame  ;  "  the  murdering  dog's  head  is  worth  its  weight  in 
gold." 

*  See  Sheriff- Depute  Carmichael.    Note  7. 

t  See  Murderers  of  Archbishop  Sharp.    Note  8w 


r' 


CHAPTER  V 

Arouse  thee,  youth  !    It  is  no  human  call : 
God's  church  is  leaguer'd,  haste  to  man  the  wall; 
Haste  where  the  red-cross  banners  wave  on  high, 
Signal  of  honour'd  death  or  victory  ! 

James  Duff. 

Morton  and  his  companion  had  attained  some  distance  from 
the  town  before  either  of  them  addressed  the  other.  There 
was  something,  as  we  have  observed,  repulsive  in  the  manner 
of  the  stranger  which  prevented  Morton  from  opening  the  con- 
versation, and  he  himself  seemed  to  have  no  desire  to  talk, 
until,  on  a  sudden,  he  abruptly  demanded,  "  What  has  your 
father's  son  to  do  with  such  profane  mummeries  as  I  find  you 
this  day  engaged  in  ?  " 

'*I  do  my  duty  as  a  subject,  and  pursue  my  harmless  rec- 
reations according  to  my  own  pleasure, ''  replied  Morton,  some- 
what offended. 

^^  Is  it  your  duty,  think  you,  or  that  of  any  Christian  young 
man,  to  bear  arms  in  their  cause  who  have  poured  out  the 
blood  of  God's  saints  in  the  wilderness  as  if  it  had  been  water  ? 
Or  is  it  a  lawful  recreation  to  waste  time  in  shooting  at  a 
bunch  of  feathers,  and  close  your  evening  with  wine-bibbing 
in  public-houses  and  market-towns,  when  He  that  is  mighty 
is  come  into  the  iand  with  His  fan  in  His  hand,  to  purge  the 
wheat  from  the  chaff  ? '' 

**I  suppose  from  your  style  of  conversation,"  said  Morton, 
'Hhat  you  are  one  of  those  who  have  thought  proper  to  stand 
out  against  the  government.  I  must  remind  you  that  you  are 
unnecessarily  using  dangerous  language  in  the  presence  of  a 
mere  stranger,  and  that  the  times  do  not  render  it  safe  forme 
to  listen  to  it." 

"  Thou  canst  not  help  it,  Henry  Morton,"  said  his  com- 
panion ;  "  thy  Master  has  His  uses  for  thee,  and  when  He 
calls,  thou  must  obey.  Well  wot  I  thou  hast  not  heard  the 
call  of  a  true  preacher,  or  thou  hadst  ere  now  been  what  thou 
wilt  assuredly  one  day  become." 

^*  We  are  of  the  Presbyterian  persuasion,  like  yourself," 
said  Morton  j  for  his  uncle's  family  attended  the  ministry  oi 


OLD  MORTALITY  8t> 

one  of  those  numerous  Presbyterian  clergymen,  who,  comply- 
ing with  certain  regulations,  were  licensed  to  preach  without 
interruption  from  the  government.  This ''  indulgence,''  as  it 
was  called,  made  a  great  schism  among  the  Presbyterians,  and 
those  who  accepted  of  it  were  severely  censured  by  the  more 
rigid  sectaries,  who  refused  the  proffered  terms. 

The  stranger,  therefore,  answered  with  great  disdain  to 
Morton's  profession  of  faith.  "  That  is  but  an  equivocation 
— a  poor  equivocation.  Ye  listen  on  the  Sabbath  to  a  cold, 
wordly,  time-serving  discourse  from  one  who  forgets  his 
high  commission  so  much  as  to  hold  his  apostleship  by  the 
favor  of  the  courtiers  and  the  false  prelates,  and  ye  call 
that  hearing  the  Word  !  Of  all  the  baits  with  which  the 
devil  has  fished  for  souls  in  these  days  of  blood  and  darkness, 
that  Black  Indulgence  has  been  the  most  destructive.  An 
awful  dispensation  it  has  been,  a  smiting  of  the  shepherd  and 
a  scattering  of  the  sheep  upon  the  mountains,  an  uplifting  of 
one  Christian  banner  against  another,  and  a  fighting  of  the 
wars  of  darkness  with  the  swords  of  the  children  of  light !  " 

''  My  uncle,"  said  Morton,  ''  is  of  opinion  that  we  enjoy  a 
reasonable  freedom  of  conscience  under  the  indulged  clergy- 
men, and  I  must  necessarily  be  guided  by  his  sentiments  re- 
specting the  choice  of  a  place  of  worship  for  his  family." 

'*' Your  uncle,"  said  the  horseman,  'Ms  one  of  those  to 
whom  tiie  least  lamb  in  his  own  folds  at  Milnwood  is  dearer 
than  the  whole  Christian  flock.  He  is  one  that  could  willingly 
bend  down  to  the  golden  calf  of  Bethel,  and  would  have  fished 
for  the  dust  thereof  when  it  was  ground  to  powder  and  cast 
upon  the  waters.     Thy  father  was  a  man  of  another  stamp." 

*'My  father,"  replied  Morton,  ''  was  indeed  a  brave  and    , 
gallant  man.     And  you  may  have  heard,  sir,  that  he  fought    \ 
for  that  royal  family  in  whose  name  I  was  this  day  carrying     \ 
arms." 

"Ay,  and  had  he  lived  to  see  these  days,  he  would  have 
cursed  the  hour  he  ever  drew  sword  in  their  cause  ;  but  more 
of  this  hereafter.  I  promise  thee  full  surely  that  thy  hour 
will  come,  and  then  the  words  thou  hast  now  heard  will  stick 
in  thy  bosom  like  barbed  arrows.     My  road  lies  there." 

He  pointed  towards  a  pass  leading  up  into  a  wild  extent  of 
dreary  and  desolate  hills ;  but  as  he  was  about  to  turn  his 
horse's  head  into  the  rugged  path  which  led  from  the  high-road 
in  that  direction,  an  old  woman  wrapped  in  a  red  cloak,  who  wag 
sitting  by  the  cross-way,  arose,  and  approaching  him  said,  in  a 
mysterious  tone  of  voice,  ^'  If  ye  be  of  ourain  folk,  gangna  up 
the  pass  the  night  for  your  lives.     There  is  a  lion  in  the  path 


86  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  is  there.  The  curate  of  Brotherstane  ana  ten  soldiers  hae 
beset  the  pass  to  hae  the  lives  of  ony  of  our  puir  wanderers 
that  venture  that  gate  to  join  wi'  Hamilton  and  Dingwall/' 

"  Have  the  persecuted  folk  drawn  to  any  head  among  them- 
selves ?  "  demanded  the  stranger. 

"  About  sixty  or  seventy  horse  and  foot/'  said  the  old  dame  ; 
*'  but,  ewhow  !  they  are  puirly  armed,  and  warse  fended  wi' 
victual. " 

"  God  will  help  His  own/'  said  the  horseman.  "  Which 
way  shall  I  take  to  join  them  ?  " 

^'  It's  a  mere  impossibility  this  night/'  said  the  woman, 
'^  the  troopers  keep  sae  strict  a  guard  ;  and  they  say  there's 
strange  news  come  frae  the  east  that  makes  them  rage  in 
their  cruelty  mair  fierce  than  ever.  Ye  maun  take  shelter 
somegate  for  the  night  before  ye  get  to  the  muirs,  and  keep 
yoursell  in  hiding  till  the  gray  o'  the  morning,  and  then  you 
may  find  your  way  through  the  Drake  Moss.  When  I  heard 
the  awf  u'  threatenings  o'  the  oppressors,  I  e'en  took  my  cloak 
about  me  and  sat  down  by  the  wayside  to  warn  ony  of  our 
puir  scattered  remnant  that  chanced  to  come  this  gate,  be- 
fore they  fell  into  the  nets  of  the  spoilers." 

'^  Have  you  a  house  near  this  ?  "  said  the  stranger  ;  "  and 
can  you  give  me  hiding  there  ?" 

''  I  have,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  a  hut  by  the  wayside, 
it  may  be  a  mile  from  hence ;  but  four  men  of  Belial,  called 
dragoons,  are  lodged  therein,  to  spoil  my  household  goods  at 
their  pleasure,  because  I  will  not  wait  upon  the  tJiowless, 
thriftless,  fissenless  ministry  of  that  carnal  man,  John  Half- 
text,  the  curate." 

'^  Good-night,  good  woman,  and  thanks  for  thy  counsel," 
said  the  stranger  as  he  rode  away. 

"  The  blessings  of  the  promise  upon  you,"  returned  the 
old  dame  ;  "may  He  keep  you  that  can  keep  you." 

''  Amen  ! "  said  the  traveller  ;  *'  for  where  to  hide  my  head 
this  night  mortal  skill  cannot  direct  me." 

*^  I  am  very  sorry  for  your  distress,"  said  Morton  ;  *'  and 
had  I  a  house  or  place  of  shelter  that  could  be  called  my  own, 
I  almost  think  I  would  risk  the  utmost  rigor  of  the  law  rather 
than  leave  yoa  in  such  a  strait.  But  my  uncle  is  so  alarmed 
at  the  pains  and  penalties  denounced  by  the  laws  against  such 
as  comfort,  receive,  or  consort  with  intercommuned  persons, 
that  he  has  strictly  forbidden  all  of  us  to  hold  any  intercourse 
with  them." 

*'  It  is  no  less  than  1  expected,"  said  the  stranger ;  "  never- 
theless, I  might  be  received  without  his  knowledge.     A  barn. 


OLD  MORTALITY  37 

a  hay-loft,  a  cart-shed,  any  place  where  I  could  stretch  me 
down,  would  be  to  my  habits  like  a  tabernacle  of  silver,  set 
about  with  planks  of  cedar/' 

"  I  assure  you,*'  said  Morton,  much  embarrassed,  "  that  I 
have  not  the  means  of  receiving  you  at  Milnwood  without  my 
uncle's  consent  and  knowledge  ;  nor,  if  I  could  do  so,  would 
I  think  myself  justifiable  in  engaging  him  unconsciously  in  a 
danger  which,  most  of  all  others,  he  fears  and  deprecates." 

''Well,"  said  the  traveller,  "  I  have  but  one  word  to  say. 
Did  you  ever  hear  your  father  mention  John  Balfour  of  Bur- 
ley  ?  " 

"  His  ancient  friend  and  comrade  who  saved  his  life,  with 
almost  the  loss  of  his  own,  in  the  battle  of  Long  Marston 
Moor  ?     Often,  very  often." 

''I  am  that  Balfour,"  said  his  companion.  ''Yonder 
stands  thy  uncle's  house  ;  I  see  the  light  among  the  trees. 
The  avenger  of  blood  is  behind  me,  and  my  death  certain 
unless  I  have  refuge  there.  Now,  make  thy  choice,  young 
man ;  to  shrink  from  the  side  of  thy  father's  friend  like  a 
thief  in  the  night,  and  to  leave  him  exposed  to  the  bloody 
death  from  which  he  rescued  thy  father,  or  to  expose  thine 
uncle's  worldly  goods  to  such  peril  as  in  this  perverse  gener- 
ation attends  those  who  give  a  morsel  of  bread  or  a  draught 
of  cold  water  to  a  Christian  man  when  perishing  for  lack  of 
refreshment  I " 

A  thousand  recollections  thronged  on  the  mind  of  Morton 
at  once.  His^  father,  whose  memory  he  idolized,  had  often 
enlarged  upon  his  obligations  to  this  man,  and  regretted  that 
after  having  been  long  comrades,  they  had  parted  in  some 
unkindness  at  the  time  when  the  kingdom  of  Scotland  was 
divided  into  Resolutioners  and  Protesters  ;  the  former  of 
whom  adhered  to  Charles  II.,  after  his  father's  death  upon 
the  scaffold,  while  the  Protesters  inclined  rather  to  a  urion 
with  the  triumphant  republicans.  The  stern  fanaticism  of 
Burley  had  attached  him  to  this  latter  party,  and  the  com- 
rades had  parted  in  displeasure,  never,  as  it  happened,  to 
meet  again.  These  circumstances  the  deceased  Colonel 
Morton  had  often  mentioned  to  his  son,  and  always  with  an 
expression  of  deep  regret  that  he  had  never,  in  any  manner, 
been  enabled  to  repay  the  assistance  which  on  more  than  one 
occasion  he  had  received  from  Burley. 

To  hasten  Morton's  decision,  the  night-wind,  as  it  swept 
along,  brought  from  a  distance  the  sullen  sound  of  a  kettle- 
drum, which,  seeming  to  approach  nearer,  intimated  that  a 
body  of  horse  were  upon  their  march  towards  them. 


88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''It  must  be  Claverhouse  with  the  rest  of  his  regiment. 
What  can  have  occasioned  this  night-march  ?  If  you  go  on 
you  fall  into  their  hands  ;  if  you  turn  back  towards  the 
Dorough-town  you  are  in  no  less  danger  from  Cornet  Grahame's 
party.  The  path  to  the  hill  is  beset.  I  must  shelter  you  at 
iiilnwood,  or  expose  you  to  instant  death  ;  but  the  punish- 
ment of  the  law  shall  fall  upon  myself,  as  in  justice  it  should, 
not  upon  my  uncle.     Follow  me." 

Burley,  who  had  awaited  his  resolution  with  great  compo- 
sure, now  followed  him  in  silence. 

The  house  of  Milnwood,  built  by  the  father  of  the  present 
proprietor,  was  a  decent  mansion,  suitable  to  the  size  of  the 
estate,  but  since  the  accession  of  this  owner,  it  had  been  suf- 
fered to  go  considerably  into  disrepair.  At  some  little  dis- 
tance from  the  house  stood  the  court  of  offices.  Here  Morton 
paused. 

''  I  must  leave  you  here  for  a  little  while,"  he  whispered, 
''until  I  can  provide  a  bed  for  you  in  the  house." 

''  I  care  little  for  such  delicacy,"  said  Burley  ;  "for  thirty 
years  this  head  has  rested  oftener  on  the  turf,  or  on  the  next 
gray  stone,  than  upon  either  wool  or  down.  A  draught  of  ale, 
a  morsel  of  bread,  to  say  my  prayers,  and  to  stretch  me  upon 
dry  hay,  were  to  me  as  good  as  a  painted  chamber  and  a  prince's 
table.'^ 

It  occurred  to  Morton  at  the  same  moment  that  to  attempt 
to  introduce  the  fugitive  within  the  house  would  materially  in- 
crease the  danger  of  detection.  Accordingly,  having  struck 
a  li^ht  with  implements  left  in  the  stable  for  that  purpose,  and 
having  fastened  up  their  horses,  he  assigned  Burley  for  his 
place  of  repose  a  wooden  bed,  placed  in  a  loft  half  full  of  hay, 
which  an  out-of-door  domestic  had  occupied  until  dismissed  by 
his  uncle  in  one  of  those  fits  of  parsimony  which  became  more 
rigid  from  day  to  day.  In  this  untenanted  loft  Morton  left  his 
companion,  with  a  caution  so  to  shade  his  light  that  no  reflec- 
tion might  be  seen  from  the  window,  and  a  promise  that  he 
would  presently  return  with  such  refreshments  as  he  might 
be  able  to  procure  at  that  late  hour.  This  last,  indeed,  was  a 
subject  on  which  he  felt  by  no  means  confident,  for  the  power 
of  obtaining  even  the  most  ordinary  provisions  depended  en- 
tirely upon  the  humor  in  which  he  might  happen  to  fifid  his 
uncle's  sole  confidante,  the  old  housekeeper.  If  she  chanced 
to  be  abed,  which  was  very  likely,  or  out  of  humor,  which 
was  not  less  so,  Morton  well  knew  the  case  to  bo  at  least 
problematical. 

Cursing  in  his  heart  the  sordid  parsimony  which  pervaded 


OLD  MORTALITY  3ft 

every  part  of  his  uncle's  establishment,  he  gave  the  usual 
gentle  knock  at  the  bolted  door,  by  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  seek  admittance  when  accident  had  detained  him  abroad 
beyond  the  early  and  established  hours  of  rest  at  the  house  of 
Milnwood.  It  was  a  sort  of  hesitating  tap,  which  carried  an 
acknowledgment  of  transgression  in  its  very  sound,  and  seemed 
rather  to  solicit  than  command  attention.  After  it  had  been 
repeated  again  and  again,  the  housekeeper,  grumbling  betwixt 
her  teeth  as  she  rose  from  the  chimney-corner  in  the  hall,  and 
wrapping  her  checked  handkerchief  round  her  head  to  secure 
her  from  the  cold  air,  paced  across  the  stone  passage,  and  re- 
peated a  careful  '^Wha's  there  at  this  time  o'  night  ?"  more 
than  once  before  she  undid  the  bolts  and  bars  and  cautiously 
opened  the  door. 

"  This  is  a  fine  time  o'  night,  Mr.  Henry,'*  said  the  old 
dame,  with  the  tyrannic  insolence  of  a  spoiled  and  favorite 
domestic  ;  ''a  braw  time  o'  night  and  a  bonny  to  disturb  a 
peaceful  house  in,  and  to  keep  quiet  folk  out  o'  their  beds 
waiting  for  you.  Your  uncle's  been  in  his  maist  three  hours 
syne,  and  Robin's  ill  o'  the  rheumatize,  and  he's  to  his  bed  too, 
and  sae  I  had  to  sit  up  for  ye  mysell,  for  as  sair  a  hoast  as  I  hae. " 

Here  she  coughed  once  or  twice  in  further  evidence  of  the 
egregious  inconvenience  which  she  had  sustained. 

**Much  obliged  to  you,  Alison,  and  many  kind  thanks." 

"  Hegh,  sirs,  sae  fair-fashioned  as  we  are  !  Mony  folk  ca' 
me  Mistress  Wilson,  and  Milnwood  himsell  is  the  only  ane 
about  this  town  thinks  o'  ca'ing  me  Alison,  and  indeed  he  as 
often  says  Mrs.  Alison  as  ony  other  thing." 

**Well,  then.  Mistress  Alison,"  said  Morton,  "I  really 
am  sorry  to  have  kept  you  up  waiting  till  I  came  in." 

"  And  now  that  you  are  come  in,  Mr.  Henry,"  said  the  cross 
old  woman,  "  what  for  do  you  no  tak  up  your  candle  and  gang  to 
your  bed  ?  and  mind  ye  dinna  let  the  candle  sweal  as  ye  gang 
alang  the  wainscot  parlor,  and  baud  a'  the  house  scouring  to 
get  out  the  grease  again." 

''But,  Alison,  I  really  must  have  something  to  eat,  and 
a  draught  of  ale,  before  I  go  to  bed." 

*'  Eat !  and  ale,  Mr.  Henry  !  My  certie,  ye're  ill  to  serve. 
Do  ye  think  we  havena  heard  o'  your  grand  popinjay  wark 
yonder,  and  how  ye  bleezed  away  as  muckle  pouther  as  wad 
hae  shot  a'  the  wild-fowl  that  we'll  want  atween  this  and 
Candlemas  ;  and  then  ganging  majoring  to  the  piper's  Howff 
wi'  a'  the  idle  loons  in  the  country,  and  sitting  there  birling 
at  your  poor  uncle's  cost,  nae  doubt,  wi'  a'  the  scaff  and  raff  o' 


I 


40  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  water-side  till  sundown,  and  then  coming  hame  and  crying 
for  ale  as  if  ye  were  maister  and  mair  ! " 

Extremely  vexed,  yet  anxious,  on  account  of  his  guest,  to 
procure  refreshments  if  possible,  Morton  suppressed  his  re- 
sentment, and  good-humoredly  assured  Mrs.  Wilson  that  he 
was  really  both  hungry  and  thirsty  ;  "and  as  for  the  shooting 
at  the  popinjay,  I  have  heard  you  say  you  have  been  there 
yourself,  Mrs.  Wilson.     I  wish  you  had  come  to  look  at  us.^' 

*^Ah,  Maister  Henry,"  said  the  old  dame,  "I  wish  ye 
binna  beginning  to  learn  the  way  of  blawing  in  a  woraan^s 
lug  wi*  a'  your  whilly-wha's  !  Aweel,  sae  ye  dinna  practise 
them  but  on  auld  wives  like  me  the  less  matter.  But  tak  heed 
o'  the  young  queans,  lad.  Popinjay — ye  think  yoursell  a 
braw  fellow  enow  ;  and  troth  !  [surveying  him  with  the 
candle]  there's  nae  fault  to  find  wi'  the  outside,  if  the  inside 
be  conforming.  But  I  mind  when  I  was  a  gilpy  of  a  lassock 
seeing  the  Duke — that  was  him  that  lost  his  head  at  London; 
folks  said  it  wasna  a  very  gude  ane,  but  it  was  aye  a  sair  loss 
to  him,  puir  gentleman.  Aweel,  he  wan  the  popinjay,  for 
few  cared  to  win  it  ower  his  Grace's  head.  Weel,  he  had  a 
comely  presence,  and  when  a'  the  gentles  mounted  to  show 
their  capers,  his  Grace  was  as  near  to  me  as  I  am  to  you,  and 
he  said  to  me,  ^  Tak  tent  o'  yoursell,  my  bonny  lassie ' — these 
were  his  very  words — ^for  my  horse  is  not  very  chancy.* 
And  now,  as  ye  say  ye  had  sae  little  to  eat  or  drink,  I'll 
let  you  see  that  I  ha  vena  been  sae  unmindfu'  o'  you ;  for 
I  dinna  think  it's  safe  for  young  folk  to  gang  to  their  bed  on 
an  empty  stamach." 

To  do  Mrs.  Wilson  justice,  her  nocturnal  harangues  upon 
such  occasions  not  unfrequently  terminated  with  this  sage 
apothegm,  which  always  prefaced  the  producing  of  some  pro- 
viaion  a  little  better  than  ordinary,  such  as  she  now  placed 
before  him.  In  fact,  the  principal  object  of  her  "maunder- 
ing "  was  to  display  her  consequence  and  love  of  power  ;  for 
Mrs.  Wilson  was  not  at  the  bottom  an  ill-tempered  woman, 
and  certainly  loved  her  old  and  young  master  (both  of  whom 
she  tormented  extremely)  better  than  any  one  else  in  the 
world.  She  now  eyed  Mr.  Henry,  as  she  called  him,  with 
great  complacency  as  he  partook  of  her  good  cheer. 

"  Muckle  gude  may  it  do  ye,  my  bonny  man.  I  trowye 
dinna  get  sic  a  skirl-in-t5ie-pan  as  that  at  Niel  Blane's.  His 
wife  was  a  canny  body,  and  could  dress  things  very  weel  for 
ane  in  her  line  o'  business,  but  no  like  a  gentleman's  house- 
keeper, to  be  sure.  But  I  doubt  the  daughter's  a  silly  thing  ; 
an  unco  cockernony  she  had  busked  on  her  head  at  the  kirk  last 


OLD  MORTALITY  41 

Snnday.  I  am  doubting  that  there  will  be  news  o'  a'  thae 
braws.  But  my  auld  e'en's  drawing  thegither  ;  dinna  hurry 
yoursell,  my  bonny  man.  Tak  mind  about  the  putting  out 
the  candle,  and  there's  a  horn  of  ale  and  a  glass  of  clow-gillie- 
flower  water.  I  dinna  gie  ilka  body  that ;  I  keep  it  for  a  pain 
I  hae  whiles  in  my  ain  stamach,  and  it's  better  for  your  young 
blood  than  brandy.  Sae  gude-night  to  ye,  Mr.  Henry,  and 
see  that  ye  tak  gude  care  o'  the  candle." 

Morton  promised  to  attend  punctually  to  her  caution,  and 
requested  her  not  to  be  alarmed  if  she  heard  the  door  opened, 
as  she  knew  he  must  again,  as  usual,  look  to  his  horse  and 
arrange  him  for  the  night.  Mrs.  Wilson  then  retreated,  and 
Morton,  folding  up  his  provisions,  was  about  to  hasten  to  his 
guest  when  the  nodding  head  of  the  old  housekeeper  was 
again  thrust  in  at  the  door  with  an  admonition  to  remember 
to  take  an  account  of  his  ways  before  he  laid  himself  down 
to  rest,  and  to  pray  for  protection  during  the  hours  of  dark- 
ness. 

Such  were  the  manners  of  a  certain  class  of  domestics,* 
once  common  in  Scotland,  and  perhaps  still  to  be  found  in 
some  old  manor-houses  in  its  remote  counties.  They  were 
fixtures  in  the  family  they  belonged  to ;  and,  as  they  never 
conceived  the  possibility  of  such  a  thing  as  dismissal  to  be 
within  the  chances  of  their  lives,  they  were,  of  course,  sin- 
cerely attached  to  every  member  of  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  spoiled  by  the  indulgence  or  indolence  of  their  superi- 
ors, they  were  very  apt  to  become  ill-tempered,  self-sufficient, 
and  tyrannical  ;  so  much  so  that  a  mistress  or  master  would 
sometimes  almost  have  wished  to  exchange  their  cross-grained 
fidelity  for  the  smooth  and  accommodating  duplicity  of  a 
modern  menial. 

♦  See  Old  Family  Servants.    Note  9. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Yea,  this  man's  brow,  like  to  a  tragic  leaf, 
Foretells  the  nature  of  a  tragic  volume. 

Shakespeare. 

Being  at  leng1;h  rid  of  the  housekeeper's  presence,  Morton 
made  a  collection  of  what  he  had  reserved  from  the  provisions 
set  before  him  and  prepared  to  carry  them  to  his  concealed 
guest.  He  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  take  a  light,  being 
perfectly  acquainted  with  every  turn  of  the  road  ;  and  it  was 
lucky  he  did  not  do  so,  for  he  had  hardly  stepped  beyond  the 
threshold  ere  a  heavy  tramping  of  horses  announced  that  the 
body  of  cavalry,  whose  kettle-drums*  they  had  before  heard, 
were  in  the  act  of  passing  along  the  high-road  which  winds 
round  the  foot  of  the  bank  on  which  the  house  of  Milnwood 
was  placed.  He  heard  the  commanding  officer  distinctly  give 
the  word  "  Halt.^'  A  pause  of  silence  followed,  interrupted 
only  by  the  occasional  neighing  or  pawing  of  an  impatient 
charger. 

'*  Whose  house  is  this  ?  "  said  a  voice  in  a  tone  of  authority 
and  command. 

"Milnwood,  if  it  like  your  honor,''  was  the  reply. 

*'  Is  the  owner  well  affected  ^  "  said  the  inquirer. 

'*He  complies  with  the  orders  of  government,  and  fre- 
quents an  indulged  minister,"  was  the  response. 

*'Hum  I  ay!  indulged  !  A  mere  mask  for  treason,  very 
impolitically  allowed  to  those  who  are  too  great  cowards  to 
wear  their  principles  barefaced.  Had  we  not  better  send  up 
a  party  and  search  the  house  in  case  some  of  the  bloody  villains 
concerned  in  this  heathenish  butchery  may  be  concealed  in 
:t?" 

Ere  Morton  could  recover  from  the  alarm  into  which  this 
proposal  had  thrown  him  a  third  speaker  rejoined,  *'  I  cannot 
think  it  at  all  necessary  ;  Milnwood  is  an  infirm,  hypochon- 
driac old  man,  who  never  meddles  with  politics,  and  loves  his 
money-bags  and  bonds  better  than  anything  else  in  the  world. 
His   nephew,  I  hear,  was  at  the  wappenschaw  to-day,  and 

♦  See  MUitary  Music  at  Night.    Note  10. 

4r 


I 


OLD  MORTALITY  AM 

gained  the  popinjay,  which  does  not  look  like  a  fanatic.  I 
should  think  they  are  all  gone  to  bed  long  since,  and  an  alarm 
this  time  of  night  might  kill  the  poor  old  man/' 

''  Well,''  rejoined  the  leader,  *'if  that  be  so,  to  search  the 
iionse  would  be  lost  time,  of  which  we  have  but  little  to  throw 
away.     Gentlemen  of  the  Life  Guards,  forward.     March  ! " 

A  few  notes  on  the  trumpet,  mingled  with  the  occasional 
boom  of  the  kettle-drum  to  mark  the  cadence,  joined  with  the 
tramp  of  hoofs  and  the  clash  of  arms,  announced  that  the 
troop  had  resumed  its  march.  The  moon  broke  out  as  the 
leading  files  of  the  column  attained  a  hill  up  which  the  road 
winded  and  showed  indistinctly  the  glittering  of  the  steel 
caps ;  and  the  dark  figures  of  the  horses  and  riders  might  be 
imperfectly  traced  through  the  gloom.  They  continued  to 
advance  up  the  hill  and  sweep  over  the  top  of  it  in  such  long 
succession  as  intimated  a  considerable  numerical  force. 

When  the  last  of  them  had  disappeared  young  Morton  re- 
sumed his  purpose  of  visiting  his  guest.  Upon  entering  the 
place  of  refuge  he  found  him  seated  on  his  humble  couch 
with  a  pocket  Bible  open  in  his  hand,  which  he  seemed  to  study 
with  intense  meditation.  His  broadsword,  which  he  had  un- 
sheathed in  the  first  alarm  at  the  arrival  of  the  dragoons,  lay 
naked  across  his  knees,  and  the  little  taper  that  stood  beside 
him  upon  the  old  chest,  which  served  the  purpose  of  a  table, 
threw  a  partial  and  imperfect  light  upon  those  stern  and  harsh 
features,  in  which  ferocity  was  rendered  more  solemn  and  dig- 
nified by  a  wild  cast  of  tragic  enthusiasm.  His  brow  was  that 
of  one  in  whom  some  strong  o'ermastering  principle  has  over- 
whelmed all  other  passions  and  feelings,  like  the  swell  of  a 
high  spring-tide,  when  the  usual  cliffs  and  breakers  vanish 
from  the  eye,  and  their  existence  is  only  indicated  by  the  chaf- 
ing foam  of  the  waves  that  burst  and  wheel  over  them.  He 
raised  his  head  after  Morton  had  contemplated  him  for  about 
a  minute. 

*' I  perceive,"  said  Morton,  looking  at  his  sword,  '*  that  you 
heard  the  horsemen  ride  by ;  their  passage  delayed  me  for  some 
minutes." 

"I  scarcely  heeded  them,"  said  Balfour;  "my  hour  is 
not  yet  come.  That  I  shall  one  day  fall  into  their  hands  and 
be  honorably  associated  with  the  saints  whom  they  have 
slaughtered,  I  am  full  well  aware.  And  I  would,  young 
man,  that  the  hour  were  come  ;s  it  should  be  as  welcome  to 
me  as  ever  wedding  to  bridegroom.  But  if  my  Master  has 
more  work  for  me  on  earth  I  must  not  do  His  labor  grudg- 
ingly." 


44  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Eat  and  reiresh  yourself/'  said  Morton ;  ''  to-morrow  yonr 
safety  requires  you  should  leave  this  place  in  order  to  gain  the 
hills  so  soon  as  you  can  see  to  distinguish  the  track  through 
the  morasses." 

''  Young  man/'  returned  Balfour,  "you  are  already  weary 
of  me,  and  would  be  yet  more  so,  perchance,  did  you  know 
the  task  upon  which  I  have  been  lately  put.  And  I  wonder 
not  that  it  should  be  so,  for  there  are  times  when  I  am  weary 
of  myself.  Think  you  not  it  is  a  sore  trial  for  flesh  and  blood 
to  be  called  upon  to  execute  the  righteous  judgments  of  Heaven 
while  we  are  yet  in  the  body,and  continue  to  retain  that  blinded 
sense  and  sympathy  for  carnal  suffering  which  makes  our  own 
flesh  thrill  when  we  strike  a  gash  upon  the  body  of  another  ? 
And  think  you  that  when  some  prime  tyrant  has  been  removed 
from  his  place,  that  the  instruments  of  his  punishment  can  at 
all  times  look  back  on  their  share  in  his  downfall  with  firm 
and  unshaken  nerves  ?  Must  they  not  sometimes  even  ques- 
tion the  truth  of  tliat  inspiration  which  they  have  felt  and 
acted  under  ?  Must  they  not  sometimes  doubt  the  origin  of 
that  strong  impulse  with  which  their  prayers  for  heavenly 
direction  under  difficulties  have  been  inwardly  answered  and 
confirmed,  and  confuse,  in  their  disturbed  apprehensions, 
the  responses  of  Truth  itself  with  some  strong  delusion  of  the 
enemy  ?" 

"  Tliese  are  subjects,  Mr.  Balfour,  on  which  I  am  ill-qual- 
ified to  converse  with  you,"  answered  Morton ;  *'  but  I  own  I 
should  strongly  doubt  the  origin  of  any  inspiration  which 
seemed  to  dictate  a  line  of  conduct  contrary  to  those  feelings 
of  natural  humanity  which  Heaven  has  assigned  to  us  as  the 
general  law  of  our  conduct." 

Balfour  seemed  somewhat  disturbed,  and  drew  himself 
hastily  up,  but  immediately  composed  himself  and  answered 
coolly,  "  It  is  natural  you  should  think  so ;  you  are  yet  in  the 
dungeon-house  of  the  law,  a  pit  darker  than  that  into  which 
Jeremiah  was  plunged,  even  the  dungeon  of  Malcaiah  the  son 
of  Hamelmelech,  where  there  was  no  water  but  mire.  Yet  is 
the  seal  of  the  covenant  upon  your  forehead,  and  the  son  of  the 
righteous  who  resisted  to  blood,  where  the  banner  was  spread 
on  the  mountains,  shall  not  be  utterly  lost  as  one  of  the  chil- 
dren of  darkness.  Trow  ye  that  in  this  day  of  bitterness  and 
calamity  nothing  is  required  at  our  hands  but  to  keep  the 
moral  law  as  far  as  our  carnal  frailty  will  permit  ?  Tliiuk  ye 
our  conquests  must  be  only  over  our  corrupt  and  evil  affec- 
tions and  passions  ?  No  ;  we  are  called  upon,  when  we  have 
girded  up  our  loins,  to  run  the  race  boldly,  and  when  we  have 


OLD  MORTALITY  45 

draTrn  the  sword  we  are  enjoined  to-  smite  the  ungodly  though 
he  be  our  neighbor,  and  the  man  of  power  and  cruelty  though 
he  were  of  our  own  kindred  and  the  friend  of  our  own  bosom/' 

''  These  are  the  sentiments/^  said  Morton,  *'  that  your 
enemies  impute  to  you,  and  which  palliate,  if  they  do  not 
vindicate,  the  cruel  measures  which  the  council  have  di- 
rected against  you.  They  affirm  that  you  pretend  to  derive 
your  rule  of  action  from  what  you  call  an  inward  light,  re- 
jecting the  restraints  of  legal  magistracy,  of  national  law,  and 
even  of  common  humanity,  when  in  opposition  to  what  you 
call  the  spirit  within  you/' 

*'  They  do  us  wrong,''  answered  the  Covenanter  ;  "  it  is 
they,  perjured  as  they  are,  who  have  rejected  all  law,  both 
divine  and  civil,  and  who  now  persecute  us  for  adherence  to 
the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  between  God  and  the 
kingdom  of  Scotland,  to  which  all  of  them,  save  a  few  Popish 
malignants,  have  sworn  in  former  days,  yet  which  they  now 
burn  in  the  market-places,  and  tread  under  foot  in  derision. 
When  this  Charles  Stewart  returned  to  these  kingdoms,  did 
the  malignants  bring  him  back  ?  They  had  tried  it  with 
strong  hand,  but  they  failed,  I  trow.  Could  James  Grahame 
of  Montrose  and  his  Highland  caterans  have  put  him  again  in 
the  place  of  his  father  ?  I  think  their  heads  on  the  Westport 
told  another  tale  for  many  a  long  day.  It  was  the  workers  of 
the  glorious  work,  the  reformers  of  the  beauty  of  the  tabernacle 
that  called  him  again  to  the  high  place  from  which  his  father 
fell.  And  what  has  been  our  reward  ?  In  the  words  of  the 
prophet,  '  We  looked  for  peace,  but  no  good  came  ;  and  for  a 
time  of  health,  and  behold  trouble.  The  snorting  of  his 
horses  was  heard  from  Dan  ;  the  whole  land  trembled  at  the 
sound  of  the  neighing  of  his  strong  ones  ;  for  they  are  come, 
and  have  devoured  the  land  and  all  that  is  in  it.' " 

'^  Mr.  Balfour,"  answered  Morton,  *'l  neither  undertake 
to  subscribe  to  or  refute  your  complaints  against  the  govern- 
ment. I  have  endeavored  to  repay  a  debt  due  to  the  comrade 
of  my  father  by  giving  you  shelter  in  your  distress,  but  you 
will  excuse  me  from  engaging  myself  either  in  your  cause  or 
in  coutroversy.  I  will  leave  you  to  repose,  and  heartily  wish 
it  were  in  my  power  to  render  your  condition  more  comfort- 
able." 

*'  But  I  shall  see  you,  I  trust,  in  the  morning  ere  I  de- 
part ?    I  am  not  a  man  whose  bowels  yearn  after  kindred 
and  friends   of  this  world.     When   I  put  my  hand  to   the 
plough  I  entered  into  a  covenant  with  my  worldly  affections         \ 
that  I  should  not  look  back  on  the  things  I  left  behind  me;         \ 


46  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Yet  the  son  of  mine  ancient  comrade  is  to  me  as  mine  own, 
and  I  cannot  behold  him  without  the  deep  and  firm  belief 
that  I  shall  one  day  see  him  gird  on  his  sword  in  the  dear 
and  precious  cause  for  which  his  father  fought  and  bled." 

With  a  promise  on  Morton's  part  that  he  would  call  the 
refugee  when  it  was  time  for  him  to  pursue  his  journey,  they 
parted  for  the  night. 

Morton  retired  to  a  few  hours*  rest ;  but  his  imagination, 
disturbed  by  the  events  of  the  day,  did  not  permit  him  to 
enjoy  sound  repose.  There  was  a  blended  vision  of  horror 
before  him,  in  which  his  new  friend  seemed  to  be  a  principal 
actor.  The  fair  form  of  Edith  Bellenden  also  mingled  in 
his  dream,  weeping,  and  with  dishevelled  hair,  and  appear- 
ing to  call  on  him  for  comfort  and  assistance  which  he  had 
not  in  his  power  to  render.  He  awoke  from  these  unref reshing 
slumbers  with  a  feverish  impulse  and  a  heart  which  foreboded 
disaster.  There  was  already  a  tinge  of  dazzling  lustre  on  the 
verge  of  the  distant  hills,  and  the  dawn  was  abroad  in  all  the 
freshness  of  a  summer  morning. 

^'  I  have  slept  too  long,"  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  ''and 
must  now  hasten  to  forward  the  journey  of  this  unfortunate 
fugitive." 

He  dressed  himself  as  fast  as  possible,  opened  the  door  ol 
the  house  with  as  little  noise  as  he  could,  and  hastened  to 
the  place  of  refuge  occupied  by  the  Covenanter.  Morton 
entered  on  tiptoe,  for  the  determined  tone  and  manner,  as 
well  as  the  unusual  language  and  sentiments  of  this  singular 
individual,  had  struck  him  with  a  sensation  approaching  to 
awe.  Balfour  was  still  asleep.  A  ray  of  light  streamed  on 
his  uncurtained  couch,  and  showed  to  Morton  the  working 
of  his  harsh  features,  which  seemed  agitated  by  some  strong 
internal  cause  of  disturbance.  He  had  not  undressed.  Both 
his  arms  were  above  the  bed-cover,  the  right  hand  strongly 
clinched,  and  occasionally  making  that  abortive  attempt  to 
strike  which  usually  attends  dreams  of  violence ;  the  left  was 
extended,  and  agitated  from  time  to  time  by  a  movement  as 
if  repulsing  some  one.  The  perspiration  stood  on  his  brow 
''like  bubbles  in  a  late  disturbed  stream,"  and  these  marks 
of  emotion  were  accompanied  with  broken  words  which  es- 
caped from  him  at  intervals — "Thou  art  taken,  Judas — thou 
art  taken.  Cling  not  to  my  knees — cling  not  to  my  knees  ; 
hew  him  down  !  A  priest !  Ay,  a  priest  of  Baal,  to  be  bound 
and  slain,  even  at  the  brook  Kishon.  Firearms  will  not  pre- 
Tail  against  him.     Strike — thrust  with  the  cold  iron — put 


OLD  MORTALITY'  4^ 

him  out  of  pain — put  him  out  of  pain,  were  it  but  for  the 
sake  of  his  gray  hairs/' 

Much  alarmed  at  the  import  of  these  expressions,  which 
seemed  to  burst  from  him  even  in  sleep  with  the  stern  energy 
accompanying  the  perpetration  of  some  act  of  violence,  Mor- 
ton shook  his  guest  by  the  shoulder  in  order  to  awake  him. 
The  first  words  he  uttered  were,  ''  Bear  me  where  ye  will,  I 
will  avouch  the  deed  ! " 

His  glance  around  having  then  fully  awakened  him,  he  at 
once  assumed  all  the  stern  and  gloomy  composure  of  his 
ordinary  manner,  and  throwing  himself  on  his  knees  before 
speaking  to  Morton  poured  forth  an  ejaculatory  prayer  for 
the  suffering  Church  of  Scotland,  entreating  that  the  blood 
of  her  murdered  saints  and  martyrs  might  be  precious  in  the 
sight  of  Heaven,  and  that  the  shield  of  the  Almighty  might 
be  spread  over  the  scattered  remnant,  who,  for  His  name's 
sake,  were  abiders  in  the  wilderness.  Vengeance,  speedy  and 
ample  vengeance  on  the  oppressors,  was  the  concluding  peti- 
tion of  his  devotions,  which  he  expressed  aloud  in  strong 
and  emphatic  language,  rendered  more  impressive  by  the 
Orientalism  of  Scripture. 

When  he  had  finished  his  prayer  he  arose,  and  taking 
Morton  by  the  arm,  they  descended  together  to  the  stable, 
where  the  Wanderer  (to  give  Burley  a  title  which  was  often 
conferred  on  his  sect)  began  to  make  his  horse  ready  to  pur- 
sue his  journey.  When  the  animal  was  saddled  and  bridled, 
Burley  requested  Morton  to  walk  with  him  a  gun-shot  into 
the  wood  and  direct  him  to  the  right  road  for  gaining  the 
moors.  Morton  readily  complied,  and  they  walked  for  some 
time  in  silence  under  the  shade  of  some  fine  old  trees,  pur- 
suing a  sort  of  natural  path,  which,  after  passing  through 
woodland  for  about  half  a  mile,  led  into  the  bare  and  wild 
country  which  extends  to  the  foot  of  the  hills. 

There  was  little  conversation  between  them,  until  at  length 
Burley  suddenly  asked  Morton,  "  Whether  the  words  he  had 
spoken  over-night  had  borne  fruit  in  his  mind  ?*' 

Morton  answered,  ''  That  he  remained  of  the  same  opinion 
which  he  had  formerly  held,  and  was  determined,  at  least  as 
far  and  as  long  as  possible,  to  unite  the  duties  of  a  good  Chris- 
tian with  those  of  a  peaceful  subject.'' 

"In  other  words,"  replied  Burley,  ''yon  are  desirous  to 
serve  both  God  and  Mammon — to  be  one  day  professing  the 
truth  with  your  lips,  and  the  next  day  in  arms,  at  the  com- 
mand of  carnal  and  tyrannic  authority,  to  shed  the  blood  of 
those  who  for  the  truth  have  forsaken  all  things  ?    Think 


48  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ye/'  he  continned,  *'  to  touch  pitch  and  remain  nndefiled  ? 
to  mix  in  the  ranks  of  malignants,  papists,  papa-prelatists,  lati- 
tudinarians,  and  scoffers ;  to  partake  of  their  sports,  which 
are  like  the  meat  offered  unto  idols  ;  to  hold  intercourse,  per- 
chance, with  their  daughters,  as  the  s^ns  of  God  with  the 
daughters  of  men  in  the  world  before  the  flood.  Think  you, 
I  say,  to  do  all  these  things  and  yet  remain  free  from  pol- 
lution ?  I  say  unto  you  that  all  communication  with  the 
enemies  of  the  church  is  the  accursed  thing  which  God  hateth  ! 
Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not !  And  grieve  not,  young 
man,  as  if  you  alone  were  called  upon  to  subdue  your  carnal 
affections,  and  renounce  the  pleasures  which  are  a  snare  to 
your  feet.  I  say  to  you,  that  the  son  of  David  hath  denounced 
no  better  lot  on  the  whole  generation  of  mankind.'' 

He  then  mounted  his  horse,  and,  turning  to  Morton,  re- 
peated the  text  of  Scripture,  ''  An  heavy  yoke  was  ordained 
for  the  sons  of  Adam  from  the  day  they  go  out  of  their  mother's 
womb  till  the  day  that  they  return  to  the  mother  of  all  things, 
from  him  who  is  clothed  in  blue  silk  and  weareth  a  crown  even 
to  him  who  weareth  simple  linen — wrath,  envy,  trouble,  and 
unquietness,  rigor,  strife,  and  fear  of  death  in  the  time  of 
rest." 

Having  uttered  these  words  he  set  his  horse  in  motion,  and 
soon  disappeared  among  the  boughs  of  the  forest. 

"  Farewell,  stern  enthusiast,"  said  Morton,  looking  after 
him  ;  "  in  some  moods  of  my  mind  how  dangerous  would  be 
the  society  of  such  a  companion  !  f'  If  I  am  unmoved  by  his 
zeal  for  abstract  doctrines  of  faith,  or  rather  for  a  peculiar 
mode  of  worship  [such  was  the  purport  of  his  reflections],  can 
I  be  a  man  and  a  Scotchman,  and  look  with  indifference  on 
that  persecution  which  has  made  wise  men  mad  ?  Was  not 
the  cause  of  freedom,  civil  and  religious,  that  for  which  my 
father  fought ;  and  shall  I  do  well  to  remain  inactive  or  to 
take  the  part  of  an  oppressive  government  if  there  should  ap- 
pear any  rational  prospect  of  redressing  the  insufferable  wrongs 
to  which  my  miserable  countrymen  are  subjected  ?  And  yet, 
who  shall  warrant  me  that  these  people,  rendered  wild  by  per- 
secution, would  not,  in  the  hour  of  victory,  be  as  cruel  and  as 
intolerant  as  those  by  whom  they  are  now  hunted  down  ? 
What  degree  of  moderation  or  of  mercy  can  be  expected  from 
this  Burley,  so  distinguished  as  one  of  their  principal  cham- 

Sions,  and  who  seems  even  now  to  be  reeking  from  some  recent 
eed  of  violence,  and  to  feel  stings  of  remorse  which  even  his  en- 
thusiasm cannot  altogether  stifle  ?  I  am  weary  of  seeing  noth- 
ing but  violence  and  fury  around  me — now  assuming  the  mask 


OLD  MORTALITY  4d 

of  lawful  anthority,  now  taking  that  of  religious  zeal.  I  am  sick 
of  my  country,  of  myself,  of  my  dependent  situation,  of  my  re- 
pressed feelings,  of  these  woods,  of  that  river,  of  that  house, 
of  all  but  Edith,  and  she  can  never  be  mine  !  Why  should 
I  haunt  her  walks  ?  Why  encourage  my  own  delusion,  and 
perhaps  hers  ?  She  can  never  be  mine.  Her  grandmother^s 
pride,  the  opposite  principles  of  our  families,  my  wretched 
state  of  dependence — a  poor  miserable  slave,  for  I  have  not 
even  the  wages  of  a  servant ;  all  circumstances  give  the  lie  to 
the  vain  hope  that  we  can  ever  be  united.  Why  then  protract 
a  delusion  so  painful  ? 

''  But  I  am  no  slave,'' he  said  aloud,  and  drawing  himsell 
up  to  his  full  stature — *'  no  slave  in  one  respect  surely.  I  can 
change  my  abode,  my  father's  sword  is  mine,  and  Europe  lies 
open  before  me  as  before  him  and  hundreds  besides  of  my 
countrymen  who  have  filled  it  with  the  fame  of  their  exploits. 
Perhaps  some  lucky  chance  may  raise  me  to  a  rank  with  our 
Ruthvens,  our  Lesleys,  our  Monros,  the  chosen  leaders  of  the 
famous  Protestant  champion,  Gustavus  Adolphus,  or  if  not, 
a  soldier's  life  or  a  soldier's  grave." 

When  he  had  formed  this  determination  he  found  himself 
near  the  door  of  his  uncle's  house,  and  resolved  to  lose  no 
time  in  making  him  acquainted  with  it. 

"Another  glance  of  Edith's  eye,  another  walk  by  Edith's 
side,  and  my  resolution  would  melt  away.  I  will  take  an 
irrevocable  step,  therefore,  and  then  see  her  for  the  last 
time." 

In  this  mood  he  entered  the  wainscotted  parlor,  in  which 
his  uncle  was  already  placed  at  his  morning's  refreshment,  a 
huge  plate  of  oatmeal  porridge,  with  a  corresponding  allow- 
ance of  buttermilk.  The  favorite  housekeeper  was  in  at- 
tendance, half  standing,  half  resting  on  the  back  of  a  chair, 
in  a  posture  betwixt  freedom  and  respect.  The  old  gentle- 
man had  been  remarkably  tall  in  his  earlier  days,  an  advan- 
tage which  he  now  lost  by  stooping  to  such  a  degree  that  at  a 
meeting,  where  there  was  some  dispute  concerning  the  sort  of 
arch  which  should  be  thrown  over  a  considerable  brook,  a 
facetious  neighbor  proposed  to  offer  Milnwood  a  handsome 
sum  for  his  curved  backbone,  alleging  that  he  would  sell 
anything  that  belonged  to  him.  Splay  feet  of  unusual  size, 
long  thin  hands  garnished  with  nails  which  seldom  felt  the 
steel,  a  wrinkled  and  puckered  visage,  the  length  of  which 
corresponded  with  that  of  his  person,  together  with  a  pair  of 
little  sharp  bargain-making  gray  eyes  that  seemed  eternally 
looking  out  for  their  advantage,  completed  the  highly  un- 


50  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

promising  exterior  of  Mr.  Moi*ton  of  Milnwood.  As  it  would 
have  been  very  injudicious  to  have  lodged  a  liberal  or  benevo- 
lent disposition  in  such  an  unworthy  cabinet,  nature  had 
suited  his  person  with  a  mind  exactly  in  conformity  with  it — 
that  is  to  say,  mean,  selfish,  and  covetous. 

When  this  amiable  personage  was  aware  of  the  presence  of 
his  nephew  he  hastened,  before  addressing  him,  to  swallow 
the  spoonful  of  porridge  which  he  was  in  the  act  of  conveying 
to  his  mouth,  and  as  it  chanced  to  be  scalding  hot,  the  pain 
occasioned  by  its  descent  down  his  throat  and  into  his  stomach 
inflamed  the  ill-humor  with  which  he  was  already  prepared  to 
meet  his  kinsman. 

'^  The  deil  take  them  that  made  them  ! "  was  his  first  ejac- 
ulation, apostrophizing  his  mess  of  porridge. 

''They're  gude  parritch  eneugh,'' said  Mrs.  Wilson,  ''if 
ye  wad  but  take  time  to  sup  them.  I  made  them  mysell ;  but 
if  folk  winna  hae  patience  they  should  get  their  thrapples 
causewayed." 

"  Hand  your  peace,  Alison  !  I  was  speaking  to  my  nevoy. 
How  is  this,  sir  ?  And  what  sort  o'  scampering  gates  are  these 
o'  going  on  ?  Ye  were  not  at  hame  last  night  till  near  mid- 
night.'^ 

"  Thereabouts,  sir,  I  believe,"  answered  Morton,  in  an  in- 
different tone. 

"  Thereabouts,  sir !  What  sort  of  an  answer  is  that,  sir  ? 
Why  came  ye  na  hame  when  other  folk  left  the  grund  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  know  the  reason  very  well,  sir,"  said  Mor- 
ton :  "  I  had  the  fortune  to  be  the  best  marksman  of  the  day, 
and  remained,  as  is  usual,  to  give  some  little  entertainment 
to  the  other  young  men." 

"  The  deevil  ye  did,  sir  !  And  ye  come  to  tell  me  that  to 
my  face  ?  Vou  pretend  to  gie  entertainments  that  canna  come 
by  a  dinner  except  by  sorning  on  a  caref  u'  man  like  me  ?  But 
if  ye  put  me  to  charges  I'se  work  it  out  o'  ye.  I  seena  why 
ye  shouldna  hand  the  pleugh  now  that  the  pleughman  has 
left  us ;  it  wad  set  ye  better  than  wearing  thae  green  duds 
and  wasting  your  siller  on  powther  and  lead ;  it  wad  put  ye 
in  an  honest  calling,  and  wad  keep  ye  in  bread  without  be- 
ing behadden  to  ony  ane." 

"  I  am  very  ambitious  of  learning  such  a  calling,  sir,  but 
I  don't  understand  driving- the  plough." 

"  And  what  for  no  ?  It's  easier  than  your  gunning  and 
archery  that  ye  like  sae  weel.  Auld  Davie  is  ca'ing  it  e'en 
now,  and  ye  may  be  goadsmanfor  the  first  twa  or  three  days  ; 
ftud  tak  tent  ye  dinna  o'erdrive  the  owsen,  and  then  ye  will 


OLD  MORTALITY  51 

be  fit  to  gang  between  the  stilts.  Ye'll  ne'er  learn  younger, 
I'll  be  your  caution.  Haggle  Holm  is  heavy  land,  and  Davie 
is  ower  auld  to  keep  the  coulter  down  now." 

''  I  beg  pardon  for  interrupting  you,  sir,  but  I  have  formed 
a  scheme  for  myself  which  will  have  the  same  effect  of  reliev- 
ing you  of  the  burden  and  charge  attending  my  company." 

*  *  Ay  !  Indeed  !  a  scheme  o'  yours  !  that  must  be  a  denty 
ane  !  "  said  the  uncle,  with  a  very  peculiar  sneer.  ''  Let's  hear 
about  it,  lad." 

"  It  is  said  in  two  words,  sir.  I  intend  to  leave  this  coun- 
try and  serve  abroad  as  my  father  did  before  these  unhappy 
troubles  broke  out  at  home.  His  name  will  not  be  so  entirely 
forgotten  in  the  countries  where  he  served  but  that  it  will 
procure  his  son  at  least  the  opportunity  of  trying  his  fortune 
as  a  soldier." 

*^Gude  be  gracious  to  us  !"  exclaimed  the  housekeeper; 
'^  our  young  Mr.  Harry  gang  abroad  ?  Na,  na  !  eh,  na !  that 
maun  never  be." 

Milnwood,  entertaining  no  thought  or  purpose  of  parting 
with  his  nephew,  who  was,  moreover,  very  useful  to  him  in 
many  respects,  was  thunderstruck  at  this  abrupt  declaration 
of  independence  from  a  person  whose  deference  to  him  had 
hitherto  been  unlimited.  He  recovered  himself,  however,  im- 
mediately. 

'^  And  wha  do  you  think  is  to  give  you  the  means,  young 
man,  for  such  a  wild-goose  chase  ?  Not  I,  I  am  sure.  I  can 
hardly  support  you  at  hame.  And  ye  wad  be  marrying,  I'se 
warrant,  as  your  father  did  afore  ye,  too,  and  sending  your  uncle 
hame  a  pack  o'  weans  to  be  fighting  and  skirling  through  the 
house  in  my  auld  days,  and  to  take  wing  and  flee  aff  like 
yoursell  whenever  they  were  asked  to  serve  a  turn  about  the 
town?" 

'*  I  have  no  thoughts  of  ever  marrying,"  answered  Henry. 

''Hear  till  him  now  !"  said  the  housekeeper.  ''It's  a 
shame  to  hear  a  douce  young  lad  speak  in  that  way,  since  a' 
the  warld  kens  that  they  maun  either  marry  or  do  waur." 

"  Hand  your  peace,  Alison,"  said  her  master  ;  "  and  you, 
Harry  (he  added  more  mildly),  put  this  nonsense  out  o'  your 
head.  This  comes  o'  letting  ye  gang  a-sodgering  for  a  day  ; 
mind,  ye  hae  nae  siller,  lad,  for  ony  sic  nonsense  plans." 

"  I  beg  you  pardon,  sir,  my  wants  shall  be  very  few ;  and 
would  you  please  to  give  me  the  gold  chain  which  the  mar- 
grave gave  to  my  father  after  the  battle  of  Lutzeu " 

"  Mercy  on  us  !  the  gowd  chain  ! "  exclaimed  his  uncle. 


62  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  The  chain   of  gowd  !  "  re-echoed   the  housekeeper — both 
aghast  with  astonishment  at  the  audacity  of  the  proposal. 

"  I  will  keep  a  few  links,  to  remind  me  of  him  by  whom 
it  was  won,  and  the  place  where  he  won  it/'  continued  Mor- 
ton ;  "the  rest  shall  furnish  me  the  means  of  following  the 
same  career  in  which  my  father  obtained  that  mark  of  dis- 
tinction/' 

*'  Mercifu'  powers  ! "  exclaimed  the  governante,  "  my  mas- 
ter wears  it  every  Sunday/' 

"  Sunday  and  Saturday/'  added  old  Milnwood,  ^^  when- 
ever I  put  on  my  black  velvet  coat ;  and  Wylie  Mactrickit  is 
partly  of  opinion  it's  a  kind  of  heirloom  that  rather  belangs  to 
the  head  of  fche  house  than  to  the  immediate  descendant.  It 
has  three  thousand  links ;  I  have  counted  them  a  thousand 
times.     It's  worth  three  hundred  pounds  sterling." 

*'  That  is  more  than  I  want,  sir  ;  if  you  choose  to  give  me 
the  third  part  of  the  money  and  five  links  of  the  chain  it 
will  amply  serve  my  purpose,  and  the  rest  will  be  some  slight 
atonement  for  the  expense  and  trouble  I  have  put  you  to." 

"  The  laddie's  in  a  creel ! "  exclaimed  his  uncle.  **  0,  sirs, 
what  will  become  o'  the  rigs  o'  Milnwood  when  I  am  dead  and 
gane  !  He  would  fling  the  crown  of  Scotland  awa  if  he  had 
it." 

"  Hout,  sir,"  said  the  old  housekeeper,  "  I  maun  e'en  say 
it's  partly  your  ain  faut.  Ye  maunna  curb  his  head  ower 
sair  in  neither  ;  and,  to  be  sure,  since  he  has  gane  doun  to 
the  Howff,  ye  maun  just  e'en  pay  the  lawing." 

"  If  it  be  not  abune  twa  dollars,  Alison,"  said  the  old 
gentleman,  very  reluctantly. 

"  I'll  settle  it  my  sell  wi'  Niel  Blane  the  first  time  I  gang 
down  to  theclachan,"  said  Alison,  *'  cheaper  than  your  honor 
or  Mr.  Harry  can  do ; "  and  then  whispered  to  Henry, 
"  Dinna  vex  him  ony  mair  ;  I'll  pay  the  lave  out  o'  the  but- 
ter siller,  and  nae  mair  words  about  it/'  Then  proceeding 
aloud,  "And  ye  maunna  speak  o'  the  young  gentleman 
handing  the  pleugh ;  there's  puir  distressed  Whigs  enow 
about  the  country  will  be  glad  to  do  that  for  a  bite  and  a  soup  ; 
it  sets  thena  far  better  than  the  like  o'  him." 

"And  then  we'll  hae  the  dragoons  on  us/'  said  Milnwood, 
"  for  comforting  and  entertaining  intercoramuned  rebels ;  a 
bonny  strait  ye  wad  put  us  in !  But  take  your  breakfast, 
Harry,  and  then  lay  by  your  new  green  coat  and  put  on 
your  raploch-gray,  it's  a  mair  mensfu'  and  thrifty  dress,  and 
a  mair  seemly  sight  than  thae  dandling  slops  and  ribbands/' 

Morton  left  the  room,  perceiving  plainly  that  he  had  at 


OLD  MORTALITY  5S 

present  no  chance  of  gaining  his  purpose,  and  perhaps  not 
altogether  displeased  at  the  obstacles  which  seemed  to  present 
themselves  to  his  leaving  the  neighborhood  of  Tillietudlem. 
The  housekeeper  followed  him  into  the  next  room,  patting 
him  on  the  back  and  bidding  him  '^  be  a  gude  bairn  and  pit 
by  his  braw  things/' 

"  And  I'll  loop  doun  your  hat  and  lay  by  the  band  and  rib- 
band/' said  the  officious  dame ;  '*  and  ye  maun  never  at  no 
hand  speak  o'  leaving  the  land  or  of  selling  the  gowd  chain, 
for  your  uncle  has  an  unco  pleasure  in  looking  on  you,  and 
in  counting  the  links  of  the  chainzie ;  and  ye  ken  auld  folk 
canna  last  forever,  sae  the  chain  and  the  lands  and  a'  will 
be  your  ain  ae  day  ;  and  ye  may  marry  ony  leddy  in  the  coun- 
try-side ye  like,  and  keep  a  braw  house  at  Milnwood,  for 
there's  enow  o'  means  ;  and  is  not  that  worth  waiting  for,  my 
dow  ? '' 

There  was  something  in  the  latter  part  of  the  prognostic 
which  sounded  so  agreeably  in  the  ears  of  Morton  that  he 
shook  the  old  dame  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  assured  her 
he  was  much  obliged  by  her  good  advice,  and  would  weigh  it 
carefully  before  he  proceeded  to  act  upon  his  former  resolu- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  VII 

From  seventeen  years  till  now,  almost  fourscore, 
Here  lived  I,  but  now  live  here  no  more. 
At  seventeen  years  many  their  fortunes  seek, 
But  at  fourscore  it  is  too  late  a  week. 

As  You  Like  It, 

We  must  conduct  our  readers  to  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem, 
to  which  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  had  returned,  in  romantic 
phrase,  malcontent  and  full  of  heaviness  at  the  unexpected, 
and,  as  she  deemed  it,  indelible  affront  which  had  been  brought 
upon  her  dignity  by  the  public  miscarriage  of  Goose  Gibbio, 
That  unfortunate  man-at-arms  was  forthwith  commanded  to 
drive  his  feathered  charge  to  the  most  remote  parts  of  the 
common  moor,  and  on  no  account  to  awaken  the  grief  or  re- 
sentment of  his  lady  by  appearing  in  her  presence  while  the 
sense  of  the  affront  was  yet  recent. 

The  next  proceeding  of  Lady  Margaret  was  to  hold  a 
solemn  court  of  justice,  to  which  Harrison  and  the  butler  were 
admitted,  partly  on  the  footing  of  witnesses,  partly  as  assess- 
ors, to  inquire  into  the  recusancy  of  Cuddie  Headrigg  the 
ploughman,  and  the  abetment  which  he  had  received  from 
his  mother — these  being  regarded  as  the  original  causes  of  the 
disaster  which  had  befallen  the  chivalry  of  Tillietudlem. 
The  charge  being  fully  made  out  and  substantiated.  Lady  Mar- 
garet resolved  to  reprimand  the  culprits  in  person,  and,  if  she 
found  them  impenitent,  to  extend  the  censure  into  a  sentence 
of  expulsion  from  the  barony.  Miss  Bellenden  alone  ven- 
tured to  say  anything  in  behalf  of  the  accused ;  but  her 
countenance  did  not  profit  them,  as  it  might  have  done  on  an;; 
other  occasion.  For  so  soon  as  Edith  had  heard  it  ascertained 
that  the  unfortunate  cavalier  had  not  suffered  in  his  person, 
his  disaster  had  affected  her  with  an  irresistible  disposition 
to  laugh,  which,  in  spite  of  Lady  Margaret's  indignation,  or 
rather  irritated,  as  usual,  by  restraint,  had  broken  out  repeat- 
edly on  her  return  homeward,  until  her  grandmother,  in  no 
shape  imposed  upon  by  the  several  fictitious  causes  which  the 
young  lady  assigned  for  her  ill-timed  risibility,  upbraided  her 
in  very  bitter  terms  with  being  insensible  to  the  honor  of  her 


OLD  MORTALITY  65 

family.     Miss  Bellenden's  intercession,  therefore,  had  on  this 
occasion  little  or  no  chance  to  be  listened  to. 

As  if  to  evince  the  rigor  of  her  disposition.  Lady  Mar- 
garet on  this  solemn  occasion  exchanged  the  ivory-headed  cane 
with  which  she  commonly  walked  for  an  immense  gold- 
headed  staff  which  had  belonged  to  her  father,  the  deceased 
Earl  of  Torwood,  and  which,  like  a  sort  of  mace  of  office, 
she  only  made  use  of  on  occasions  of  special  solemnity.  Sup- 
ported by  this  awful  baton  of  command.  Lady  Margaret  Bel- 
lenden  entered  the  cottage  of  the  delinquents. 

There  was  an  air  of  consciousness  about  old  Manse  as  she 
rose  from  her  wicker  chair  in  the  chimney-nook,  not  with 
the  cordial  alertness  of  visage  which  used  on  other  occasions 
to  express  the  honor  she  felt  in  the  visit  of  her  lady,  but  with 
a  certain  solemnity  and  embarrassment,  like  an  accused  party 
on  his  first  appearance  in  presence  of  his  judge,  before  whom 
he  is  nevertheless  determined  to  assert  his  innocence.  Her 
arms  were  folded,  her  mouth  primmed  into  an  expression  of 
respect  mingled  with  obstinacy,  her  whole  mind  apparently 
bent  up  to  the  solemn  interview.  With  her  best  courtesy  to 
the  ground,  and  a  mute  motion  of  reverence,  Mause  pointed 
to  the  chair  which  on  former  occasions  Lady  Margaret  (for 
the  good  lady  was  somewhat  of  a  gossip)  had  deigned  to 
occupy  for  half  an  hour  sometimes  at  a  time,  hearing  the  news 
of  the  county  and  of  the  borough. 

But  at  present  her  mistress  was  far  too  indignant  for  such 
condescension.  She  rejected  the  mute  invitation  with  a 
haughty  wave  of  her  hand,  and,  drawing  herself  up  as  she 
spoke,  she  uttered  the  following  interrogatory  in  a  tone  cal- 
culated to  overwhelm  the  culprit.  '^Is  it  true,  Mause,  as  I 
am  informed  by  Harrison,  Gudyill,  and  others  of  my  people, 
that  you  hae  taen  it  upon  you,  contrary  to  the  faith  you  owe 
to  God  and  the  king  and  to  me,  your  natural  lady  and  mis- 
tress, to  keep  back  your  son  frae  the  wappenschaw,  held  by 
the  order  of  the  sheriff,  and  to  return  his  armor  and  abulyie- 
ments  at  a  moment  wlien  it  was  impossible  to  find  a  suitable 
delegate  in  his  stead,  whereby  the  barony  of  Tillietudlem, 
baith  in  the  person  of  its  mistress  and  indwellers,  has  in- 
curred sic  a  disgrace  and  dishonor  as  hasna  bef a'en  the  family 
since  the  days  of  Malcolm  Canmore  ?  " 

Mause's  habitual  respect  for  her  mistress  was  extreme  ; 
she  hesitated,  and  one  or  two  short  coughs  expressed  the  dif- 
ficulty she  had  in  defending  herself.  "  I  am  sure,  my  leddy 
— hem,  hem  !     I  am  sure   I  am  sorry,  very  sorry,  that  ony 


56  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cause  of  displeasure  should  hae  occurred  ;  but  my  son's  ill 
ness " 

''  Dinna  tell  me  of  your  son^s  illness,  Mause  !  Had  he  been 
sincerely  unweel,  ye  would  hae  been  at  the  Tower  by  daylight 
to  get  something  that  wad  do  him  gude  ;  there  are  few  ail- 
ments that  I  havena  medical  recipes  for,  and  that  ye  ken  fu' 
weel/' 

'^  0  ay,  my  leddy  !  I  am  sure  ye  hae  wrought  wonderful 
cures  ;  the  last  thing  ye  sent  Cuddie,  when  he  had  the  batts, 
e'en  wrought  like  a  charm/' 

ii  Why,  then,  woman,  did  ye  not  apply  to  me,  if  there  was 
ony  real  need  ?  But  there  was  none,  ye  fause-hearted  vassal 
that  ye  are  !  " 

"  Your  leddyship  never  ca'd  me  sic  a  word  as  that  before. 
Ohon  !  that  I  suldlive  to  be  ca'dsae,"  she  continued,  bursting 
into  tears,  "  and  me  a  born  servant  o'  the  house  o'  Tillietudlem! 
I  am  sure  they  belie  baith  Ouddie  and  me  sair,  if  they  said  he 
wadna  fight  ower  the  boots  in  blu id  for  your  leddyship  and  Miss 
Edith  and  the  auld  Tower — ay  suld  he,  and  I  would  rather  see 
him  buried  beneath  it  than  he  suld  gie  way ;  but  thir  ridings 
and  wappenschawings,  my  leddy,  I  hae  nae  broo  o'  them  ava. 
I  can  fiad  nae  warrant  for  them  whatsoever/' 

"  Nae  warrant  for  them  ! "  cried  the  high-born  dame.  ''  Do 
ye  na  ken,  woman,  that  ye  are  bound  to  be  liege  vassals  in  all 
hunting,  hosting,  watching  and  warding,  when  lawfully  sum- 
moned thereto  in  my  name  ?  Your  service  is  not  gratuitous. 
I  trow  ye  hae  land  for  it.  Ye're  kindly  tenants,  hae  a  cot- 
house,  a  kale-yard,  and  a  cow's  grass  on  the  common.  Few 
hae  been  brought  farther  ben,  and  ye  grudge  your  son  suld 
gie  me  a  day's  service  in  the  field  ?  " 

"Na,  my  leddy — na,  my  leddy,  it's  no  that  V*  exclaimed 
Mause,  greatly  embarrassed,  *^  but  ane  canna  serve  twa  maisters; 
and,  if  the  truth  maun  e'en  come  out,  there's  Aneabune  whase 
commands  I  maun  obey  before  your  leddyship's.  lam  sure  I 
would  put  neither  king's  nor  kaisar's  nor  ony  earthly  creature's 
afore  them." 

"  How  mean  ye  by  that,  ye  auld  fule  woman  ?  D'ye  think 
that  I  order  onything  against  conscience  ?  " 

'*  I  dinna  pretend  to  say  that,  my  leddy,  in  regard  o'your 
leddyship's  conscience,  which  has  been  brought  up,  as  it  were, 
wi'  prelatic  principles ;  but  ilka  ane  maun  walk  by  the  light 
o'  their  ain,  and  mine/'  said  Mause,  waxing  bolder  as  the 
conference  became  animated,  '*  tells  me  that  f  suld  leave  a' — 
cot,  kale-yard,  and  cow's  grass — and  suffer  a',  rather  than  that 
I  or  mine  should  put  on  harness  in  an  nnlawfu*  cause." 


OLD  MORTALITY  57 

"  Unlawful !  "exclaimed  her  mistress  ;  "  the  cause  to  which 
you  are  called  by  your  lawful  leddy  and  mistress,  by  the  com- 
mand of  the  king,  by  the  writ  of  the  privy  council,  by  the 
order  of  the  lord-lieutenant,  by  the  warrant  of  the  sheriff  ! " 

^'  Ay,  my  leddy,  nae  doubt ;  but,  no  to  displeasure  your 
leddyship,  ye'll  mind  that  there  was  ance  a  king  in  Scripture 
they  ca^d  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  he  set  up  a  golden  image  in 
the  plain  o'  Dura,  as  it  might  be  in  the  haugh  yonder  by  the 
water-side,  where  the  array  were  warned  to  meet  yesterday, 
and  the  princes,  and  the  governors,  and  the  captains,  and  the 
judges  themsells,  forbye  the  treasurers,  the  counsellors,  and 
the  sheriffs,  were  warned  to  the  dedication  thereof,  and  com- 
manded to  fall  down  and  worship  at  the  sound  of  the  cornet,, 
flute,  harp,  sackbut,  psaltery,  and  all  kinds  of  music." 

'^  And  what  o'  a'  this,  ye  fule  wife  ?  Or  what  had  Nebu- 
chadnezzar to  do  with  the  wappenschaw  of  tlie  Upper  Ward 
of  Clydesdale?" 

^'  Only  just  thus  far,  my  leddy,"  continued  Mause,  firmly, 
''^that  prelacy  is  like  the  great  golden  image  in  the  plain  of 
Dura,  and  that  as  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abednego  were 
borne  out  in  refusing  to  bow  down  and  worship,  so  neither 
shall  Cuddie  Headrigg,  your  leddyship's  poor  pleughman,  at 
least  wi'  his  auld  mither  s  consent,  make  murgeons  or  jenny- 
flections,  as  they  ca*  them,  in  the  house  of  the  prelates  and 
curates,  nor  gird  him  wi'  armor  to  fight  in  their  cause,  either 
at  the  sound  of  kettle-drums,  organs,  bagpipes,  or  ony  other 
kind  of  music  whatever." 

Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  heard  this  exposition  of  Scrip- 
ture with  the  greatest  possible  indignation  as  well  as  surprise. 

"I  see  which  way  the  windblaws,"  she  exclaimed,  after  a 
pause  of  astonishment ;  *'  the  vile  spirit  of  .the  year  1642  is  at 
wark  again  as  merrily  as  ever,  and  ilka  auld  wife  in  the  chim- 
ley-neuk  will  be  for  knapping  doctrine  wi'  doctors  o'  divinity 
and  the  godly  fathers  o'  the  church." 

"  If  your  leddyship  means  the  bishops  and  curates,  I'm  sure 
they  hae  been  but  stepfathers  to  the  Kirk  o'  Scotland.  And 
since  your  leddyship  is  pleased  to  speak  o'  parting  wi'  us,  I 
am  free  to  tell  you  a  piece  o'  my  mind  in  another  article. 
Your  leddyship  and  the  steward  hae  been  pleased  to  propose 
that  my  son  Cuddie  suld  work  in  the  barn  wi'  a  newfangled 
machine*  for  dighting  the  corn  frae  the  chaff,  thus  impiously 
thwarting  the  will  of  Divine  Providence  by  raising  wind  for 
your  leddyship's  ain  particular  use  by  human  art,  instead  of 
soliciting  it  by  prayer,  or  waiting  patiently  for  whatever  dis- 

♦  See  Winnovring  Machine.    Note  11. 


58  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pensation  of  wind  Providence  was  pleased  to  send  upon  the 
sheeling-hill.     Now,  my  leddy " 

"  The  woman  would  drive  ony  reasonable  being  daft  \'* 
said  Lady  Margaret ;  then  resuming  her  tone  of  authority  and 
indifference,  she  concluded,  *'  Weel,  Mause,  Fll  just  end  where 
I  suld  hae  begun.  Ye're  ower  learned  and  ower  godly  for  me 
to  dispute  wi' ;  sae  I  have  just  this  to  say — either  Ouddie  must 
attend  musters  when  he's  lawfully  warned  by  the  ground- 
officer,  or  the  sooner  he  and  you  flit  and  quit  my  bounds  the 
better.  There's  nae  scarcity  o'  auld  wives  or  ploughmen  ;  but 
if  there  were,  I  had  rather  that  the  rigs  of  Tillietudlem  bare 
naething  but  windlestraes  and  sandy  lavrocks  than  that  they 
were  ploughed  by  rebels  to  the  king." 

*' Aweel,  my  leddy,"  said  Mause,  "I  was  born  here,  and 
thought  to  die  where  my  father  died  ;  and  your  leddyship  has 
been  a  kind  mistress,  I'll  ne'er  deny  that,  and  I'se  ne'er  cease 
to  pray  for  you  and  for  Miss  Edith,  and  that  ye  may  be  brought 
to  see  the  error  of  your  ways.     But  still " 

*'  The  error  of  my  ways  ! "  interrupted  Lady  Margaret, 
much  incensed —  *'  the  error  of  my  ways,  ye  uncivil  woman  ! " 

"  Ou,  ay,  my  leddy,  we  are  blinded  that  live  in  this  valley 
of  tears  and  darkness,  and  hae  a'  ower  mony  errors,  grit  folks 
as  weel  as  sma'  ;  but,  as  I  said,  my  puir  bennison  will  rest  wi' 
you  and  yours  wherever  I  am.  I  will  be  wae  to  hear  o'  your 
affliction  and  blithe  to  hear  o'  your  prosperity,  temporal  and 
spiritual.  But  I  canna  prefer  the  commands  of  an  earthly 
mistress  to  those  of  a  Heavenly  Master,  and  sae  I  am  e'en 
ready  to  suffer  for  righteousness'  sake." 

''It  is  very  well,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  turning  her  back 
in  great  displeasure  ;  ^'  ye  ken  my  will,  Mause,  in  the  matter. 
I'll  hae  nae  Whiggery  in  the  barony  of  Tillietudlem  ;  the  next 
thing  wad  be  to  set  up  a  conventicle  in  my  very  withdra wing- 
room." 

Having  said  this  she  departed  with  an  air  of  great  dignity  ; 
and  Mause,  giving  way  to  feelings  which  she  had  suppressed 
during  the  interview — for  she,  like  her  mistress,  had  her  own 
feeling  of  pride — now  lifted  up  her  voice  and  wept  aloud. 

Ouddie,  whose  malady,  real  or  pretended,  still  detained  him 
in  bed,  lay  perdue  during  all  this  conference,  snugly  ensconced 
within  his  boarded  bedstead,  and  terrified  to  death  lest  Lady 
Margaret,  whom  he  held  in  hereditary  reverence,  should  have 
detected  his  presence  and  bestowed  on  him  personally  some  of 
those  bitter  reproaches  with  which  she  loaded  his  mother. 
But  as  soon  as  he  thought  her  ladyship  fairly  out  of  hearing 
he  bounced  up  in  his  nest. 


OLD  MORTALITY  59 

•  "  The  fonl  fa'  ye,  that  I  suld  say  sae,"  he  cried  out  to  his 
mother,  "  for  a  lang-tongued  clavering  wife,  as  my  father, 
honest  man,  aye  ca'd  ye  !  Couldna  ye  let  the  leddy  alane  wi* 
your  Whiggery  ?  And  I  was  e'en  as  great  a  gomeral  to  let  ye 
persuade  me  to  lie  up  here  amang  the  blamkets  like  a  hurcheon 
instead  o'  gaun  to  the  wappenschawlike  other  folk.  Odd,  but 
I  put  a  trick  on  ye,  for  I  was  out  at  the  window-bole  when 
your  auld  back  was  turned,  and  awa  down  by  to  hae  a  baff  at 
the  popinjay,  and  I  shot  within  twa  on't.  I  cheated  the  leddy 
for  your  clavers,  but  I  wasna  gaun  to  cheat  my  jo.  But  she 
may  marry  whae  she  likes  now,  for  I'm  clean  dung  ower.  This 
is  a  waur  dirdum  than  we  got  f  rae  Mr.  Gudyill  when  ye  garr'd 
me  refuse  to  eat  the  plum-porridge  on  Yule  Eve,  as  if  it  were 
ony  matter  to  God  or  man  whether  a  pleughman  had  suppit 
on  minched  pies  or  sour  sowens." 

**  0,  whisht,  my  bairn,  whisht,"  replied  Mause  ;  *'  thou 
kensna  about  thae  things.  It  was  forbidden  meat,  things 
dedicated  to  set  days  and  holidays,  which  are  inhibited  to  the 
use  of  Protestant  Christians." 

"  And  now,"  continued  her  son,  "ye  hae  brought  the  leddy 
hersell  on  our  hands  !  An  I  could  but  hae  gotten  some  decent 
claes  in,  I  wad  hae  spanged  out  o'  bed  and  tauld  her  I  wad 
ride  where  she  liked,  night  or  day,  an  she  wad  but  leave  us 
the  free  house  and  the  yaird,  that  grew  the  best  early  kale  in 
the  haill  country,  and  the  cow's  grass." 

'^  0  wow  !  my  winsome  bairn,  Cuddie,"  continued  the  old 
dame,  "  murmur  not  at  the  dispensation  ;  never  grudge  suf- 
fering in  the  gude  cause." 

'*  But  what  ken  I  if  the  cause  is  gude  or  no,  mither,"  re- 
joined Cuddie,  "  for  a' ye  bloeze  out  sae  muckle  doctrine  about 
it  ?  It's  clean  beyond  my  comprehension  a'thegither.  I  see 
nae  sae  muckle  difference  atween  the  twa  ways  o't  as  a'  the 
folk  pretend.  It's  very  true  the  curates  read  aye  the  same 
words  ower  again  ;  and  if  they  be  right  words,  what  for  no  ? 
A  gude  tale's  no  the  waur  o'  being  twice  tauld,  I  trow  ;  and 
a  body  has  aye  the  better  chance  to  understand  it.  Every- 
body's no  sae  gleg  at  the  uptake  as  ye  are  yoursell,  mither." 

'^  0,  my  dear  Cuddie,  this  is  the  sairest  distress  of  a',"  said 
the  anxious  mother.  "  0,  how  aften  have  I  shown  ye  the 
difference  between  a  pure  evangelical  doctrine  and  ane  that's 
corrupt  wi'  human  inventions  ?  0,  my  bairn,  if  no  for  your 
ain  Saul's  sake,  yet  for  my  gray  hairs " 

*'Weel,  mither,"  said  Cuddie,  interrupting  her,  "what 
need  ye  mak  sae  muckle  din  about  it  ?  I  hae  aye  dune  what- 
e'er  ye  bade  me,  and  gaed  to  kirk  whare'er  ye  likit  on  the 


60  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sundays,  and  fended  weel  for  ye  in  the  ilka  days  besides. 
And  that's  what  vexes  me  mair  than  a'  the  rest,  when  I  think 
how  I  am  to  fend  for  ye  now  in  thae  brickie  times.  I  am  no 
clear  if  I  can  pleugli  ony  place  but  the  mains  and  Muckle- 
whame,  at  least  I  never  tried  ony  other  grund,  and  it  wadna 
come  natural  to  me.  And  nae  neighboring  heritors  will  danr 
to  take  us  after  being  turned  aff  thae  bounds  for  non-enor- 
mity." 

'*  Non-conformity,  hinnie,"  sighed  Mause,  "  is  the  name 
that  thae  warldly  men  gie  us." 

"  Weel,  aweel,  we'll  liae  to  gang  to  a  far  country,  maybe 
twall  or  fifteen  miles  aff.  I  could  be  a  dragoon,  nae  doubt,  for 
I  can  ride  and  play  wi'  the  broadsword  a  bit,  but  ye  wad  be 
roaring  about  your  blessing  and  your  gray  hairs."  Here 
Mause's  exclamations  became  extreme.  ^^  Weel,  weel,  I  but 
spoke  o't ;  besides,  ye're  ower  auld  to  be  sitting  cocked  up  on 
a  baggage- wagon  wi'  Eppie  Dumblane,  the  corporal's  wife. 
Sae  what's  to  come  o'  us  I  canna  weel  see.  I  doubt  I'll  hae  to 
tak  the  hills  wi'  the  wild  Whigs,  as  they  ca'  them,  and  then  it 
will  be  my  lot  to  be  shot  down  likea  mawkin  at  some  dike-side, 
or  to  be  sent  to  heaven  wi'  a  Saint  Johnstone's  tippit  about 
my  hause." 

*'0,  my  bonnie  Cuddie,"  said  the  zealous  Mause,  '^  for- 
bear sic  carnal,  self-seeking  language,  whilk  is  just  a  mis- 
doubting o'  Providence.  I  have  not  seen  the  son  of  the  right- 
eous begging  his  bread,  sae  says  the  text ;  and  your  father 
was  a  douce,  honest  man,  though  somewhat  warldly  in  his 
dealings,  and  cumbered  about  earthly  things,  e'en  like  your- 
sell,  my  jo  ! " 

"  Aweel,"  said  Cuddie,  after  a  little  consideration,  "I  see 
but  ae  gate  for't,  and  that's  a  cauld  coal  to  blaw  at,  mither. 
Howsomever,  mither,  ye  hae  some  guess  o'  a  wee  bit  kindness 
that's  atween  Miss  Edith  and  young  Mr.  Henry  Morton,  that 
suld  be  ca'd  young  Milnwood,  and  that  I  hae  whiles  carried  a 
bit  book,  or  maybe  a  bit  letter,  quietly  atween  them,  and  made 
believe  never  to  ken  wha  it  cam  f  rae,  though  I  kenn'd  brawly. 
There's  whiles  convenience  in  a  body  looking  a  wee  stupid  ;  and 
I  have  aften  seen  them  walking  at  e'en  on  the  little  path  by 
Dinglewood  burn  ;  but  naebody  ever  kenn'd  a  word  about  it 
frae  Cuddie.  I  ken  I'm  gay  thick  in  the  head  ;  but  I'm  as 
honest  as  our  auld  fore-hand  ox,  puir  fallow,  that  I'll  ne'er  work 
ony  mair.  I  hope  they'll  be  as  kind  to  him  that  come  ahint  me 
as  I  hae  been.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  we'll  awa  down  to  Miln- 
wood and  tell  Mr.  Harry  our  distress.  They  want  a  pleugh- 
mar;,  and  the  grund's  no  unlike  our  ain.     I  am  sure  Mr. 


OLD  MORTALITY  61 

Harry  will  stand  my  part,  for  he's  a  kind-hearted  gentleman, 
ril  get  but  little  penny-fee,  for  his  uncle,  auld  Nippie  Miln- 
wood,  has  as  close  a  grip  as  the  deil  himsell.  But  we'll  aye 
win  a  bit  bread  and  a  drap  kale,  and  a  fireside  and  theeking 
ower  our  heads,  and  that's  a'  we'll  want  for  a  season.  Sae 
get  up,  mither,  and  sort  your  things  to  gang  away  ;  for  since 
sae  it  is  that  gang  we  maun,  I  wad  like  ill  to  wait  till  Mr. 
Harrison  and  auld  Gudyill  cam  to  pu'  us  out  by  the  lug  and 
the  horn," 


wcmI 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  devil  a  puritan,  or  anything  else  he  is,  but  a  time-server. 

Twelfth  Night. 

It  was  evening  when  Mr.  Henry  Morton  perceived  an  old 
woman  wrapped  in  her  tartan  plaid,  supported  by  a  stout, 
stupid-looking  fellow  in  hodden-gray,  approach  the  house  of 
Milnwood.  Old  Mause  made  her  courtesy,  but  Cuddie  took 
the  lead  in  addressing  Morton.  Indeed,  he  had  previously 
stipulated  with  his  mother  that  he  was  to  manage  matters  his 
own  way  ;  for  though  he  readily  allowed  his  general  inferi- 
ority of  understanding,  and  filially  submitted  to  the  guidance 
of  his  motlier  on  most  ordinary  occasions,  yet  he  said,  *'  For 
getting  a  service  or  getting  forward  in  the  warld  he  could 
somegate  gar  the  wee  pickle  sense  he  had  gang  muckle  far- 
ther than  hers,  though  she  could  crack  like  ony  minister  o' 
them  a'.'' 

Accordingly,  he  thus  opened  the  conversation  with  young 
Morton  .  '^  A  braw  night  this  for  the  rye,  your  honor  ;  the 
west  park  will  be  breering  bravely  this  e'en." 

**I  do  not  doubt  it,  Cuddie  ;  but  what  can  have  brought 
your  mother — this  is  your  mother,  is  it  not  ?  [Cuddie  nod- 
ded]— what  can  have  brought  your  mother  and  you  down  the 
water  so  late  ?  " 

"Troth,  stir,  just  what  gars  the  auld  wives  trot — neshes- 
sity,  stir.     I'm  seeking  for  service,  stir." 

"  For  service,  Cuddie,  and  at  this  time  of  the  year  ?  how 
comes  that  ?  " 

Mause  could  forbear  no  longer.  Proud  alike  of  her  cause 
and  her  sufferings,  she  commenced  with  an  affected  humility 
of  tone,  "  It  has  pleased  Heaven,  an  it  like  your  honor,  to 
distinguish  us  by  a  visitation " 

"  Deil's  in  the  wife  and  nae  gude  \"  whispered  Cuddie  to 
his  mother,  "an  ye  come  out  wi'  your  Whiggery  they'll  no 
daur  open  a  door  to  us  through  the  haill  country  !  "  Then 
aloud  and  addressing  Morton,  "  My  mother's  auld,  stir,  and 
she  has  rather  forgotten  hersell  in  speaking  to  my  leddy,  that 


OLD  MORTALITY  eS 

canna  wecl  bide  to  be  contradickit — as  I  ken  naebody  likes  it 
if  they  could  help  themsells — especially  by  her  ain  folk  ;  and 
Mr.  Harrison  the  steward,  and  Gudyill  the  butler,  they're  no 
very  fond  o'  us,  and  it's  ill  sitting  at  Rome  and  striving  wi' 
the  Pope.  Sae  I  thought  it  best  to  flit  before  ill  came  to 
waur  ;  and  here's  a  wee  bit  line  to  your  honor  frae  a  friend 
will  maybe  say  some  mair  about  it." 

Morton  took  the  billet,  and,  crimsoning  up  to  the  ears  be- 
tween joy  and  surprise,  read  these  words  :  **  If  you  can  serve 
these  poor  helpless  people,  you  will  oblige  E.  B." 

It  was  a  few  instants  before  he  could  attain  composure 
enough  to  ask,  '*  And  what  is  your  object,  Cuddie  ?  and  how 
can  I  be  of  use  to  you  ?" 

"  Wark,  stir,  wark  and  a  service  is  my  object,  a  bit  beild 
for  my  mither  ^nd  mysell  ;  we  hae  gude  plenishing  o'  our  ain, 
if  Ave  had  the  cast  o'  a  cart  to  bring  it  down,  and  milk  and 
meal  and  greens  enow,  for  I'm  gay  gleg  at  meal-time,  and  sae 
is  my  mither,  lang  may  it  be  sae  !  And  for  the  penny-fee  and 
a'  that  I'll  just  leave  it  to  the  laird  and  you.  I  ken  ye'll  no 
see  a  poor  lad  wranged  if  ye  can  help  it." 

Morton  shook  his  head.  **  For  the  meat  and  lodging, 
Cuddie,  I  think  I  can  promise  something  ;  but  the  penny-fee 
will  be  a  hard  chapter,  I  doubt." 

"  I'll  take  my  chance  o't,  stir,"  replied  the  candidate  for 
service,  '*  rather  than  gang  down  about  Hamilton  or  ony  sic 
far  country." 

''  Well,  step  into  the  kitchen,  Cuddie,  and  I'll  do  what  I 
can  for  you." 

The  negotiation  was  not  without  difficulties.  Morton  had 
first  to  bring  over  the  housekeeper,  who  made  a  thousand 
objections,  as  usual,  in  order  to  have  the  pleasure  of  being  be- 
sought and  entreated  ;  but  when  she  was  gained  over,  it  was 
comparatively  easy  to  induce  old  Milnwood  to  accept  of  a 
servant  whose  wages  were  to  be  in  his  own  option.  An  out- 
house was  therefore  assigned  to  Mause  and  her  son  for  their 
habitation,  and  it  was  settled  that  they  were  for  the  time  to 
be  admitted  to  eat  of  the  frugal  fare  provided  for  the  family, 
until  their  own  establishment  should  be  completed.  As  for 
Morton,  he  exhausted  his  own  very  slender  stock  of  money  in 
order  to  make  Cuddie  such  a  present,  under  the  name  of 
*^arles,"  as  might  show  his  sense  of  the  value  of  the  recom- 
mendation delivered  to  him. 

*'  And  now  we're  settled  ance  mair,"  said  Cuddie  to  his 
mother,  ^^and  if  we're  no  saebien  and  comfortable  as  we  were 
up  yonder,  yet  life's  life  ony  gate,  and  we're  wi'  decent  kirk- 


64  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ganging  folk  o'  your  ain  persuasion,  mither  ;  there  will  benae 
quarrel  Tin  g  about  that. " 

'^  Of  my  persuasion,  hinnie  !''  said  the  too-enlightened 
Mause  ;  "  wae's  me  for  thy  blindness  and  theirs.  0,  Cuddie, 
they  are  but  in  the  court  of  the  Gentiles,  and  will  ne'er  win 
farther  ben,  I  doubt ;  they  are  but  little  better  than  the  Prel- 
atists  themsells.  They  wait  on  the  ministry  of^  that  blinded 
man,  Peter  Poundtext,  ance  a  precious  teacher  of  the  Word, 
but  now  a  backsliding  pastor  that  has,  for  the  sake  of  stipend 
and  family  maintenance,  forsaken  the  strict  path^and  gane 
astray  after  the  Black  Indulgence.  0,  my  son,  had  ye  but 
profited  by  the  gospel  doctrines  ye  hae  heard  in  the  Glen  of 
Bengonnar  frae  the  dear  Richard  Rumbleberry,  that  sweet 
youth  who  suffered  martyrdom  in  the  Grassmarket  afore 
Candlemas !  Didna  ye  hear  him  say  that  Erastianism  was 
as  bad  as  Prelacy,  and  that  the  Indulgence  was  as  bad  as 
Erastianism  ?" 

^'  Heard' ever  onybody  the  like  o'  this  V  interrupted  Cud- 
die.  *^  We^ll  be  driven  out  o'  house  and  ha'  again  afore  we 
ken  where  to  turn  oursells.  Weel,  mither,  I  hae  just  ae  word 
mair.  An  I  hear  ony  mair  o'  your  din — afore  folk,  that  is, 
for  I  dinna  mind  your  clavers  mysell,  they  aye  set  me  sleep- 
ing— but  if  I  hear  ony  mair  din  afore  folk,  as  I  was  say- 
ing, about  Poundtexts  and  Rumbleberries,  and  doctrines  and 
malignants,  I'se  e'en  turn  a  single  sodger  mysell,  or  maybe  a 
sergeant  or  a  captain,  if  ye  plague  me  the  mair,  and  let 
Rumbleberry  and  you  gang  to  the  deil  thegither.  I  ne'er 
gat  ony  gude  by  his  doctrine,  as  ye  ca't,  but  a  sour  fit  o'  the 
batts  wi'  sitting  amang  the  wat  moss-hags  for  four  hours  at  a 
yoking,  and  the  leddy  cured  me  wi'  some  hickery-pickery  ; 
mair  by  token,  an  she  had  kenn'd  how  I  came  by  the  dis- 
order, she  wadna  hae  been  in  sic  a  hurry  to  mend  it." 

Although  groaning  in  spirit  over  the  obdurate  and  impen- 
itent state,  as  she  thought  it,  of  her  son  Cuddie,  Mause  durst 
neither  urge  him  further  on  the  topic,  nor  altogether  neglect 
the  warning  he  had  given  her.  She  knew  the  disposition  of 
her  deceased  helpmate,  whom  this  surviving  pledge  of  their 
union  greatly  resembled,  and  remembered  that,  although  sub- 
mitting implicitly  in  most  things  to  her  boast  of  superior 
acuteness,  he  used  on  certain  occasions,  when  driven  to  ex- 
tremity, to  be  seized  with  fits  of  obstinacy,  which  neither 
remonstrance,  flattery,  nor  threats  were  capable  of  overpow- 
ering. Trembling,  therefore,  at  the  very  possibility  of  Cud- 
dip's  fulfilling  his  threat,  she  put  a  guard  over  her  tongue, 
and  even  when  Poundtext  was  commended  in  her  presence  as 


OLD  MORTALITY  66 

an  able  and  fructifying  preacher,  she  had  the  good  sense  to 
suppress  the  contradiction  which  thrilled  upon  her  tongue, 
and  to  express  her  sentiments  no  otherwise  than  by  deep 
groans,  which  the  hearers  charitably  construed  to  flow  from 
a  vivid  recollection  of  the  more  pathetic  parts  of  his  homilies. 
How  long  she  could  have  repressed  her  feelings  it  is  difficult 
to  say.  An  unexpected  accident  relieved  her  from  the  ne- 
cessity. 

The  Laird  of  Milnwood  kept  up  all  old  fashions  which 
were  co^^nected  with  economy.  It  was  therefore  still  the  cus- 
tom in  his  house,  as  it  had  been  universal  in  Scotland  about 
fifty  years  before,  that  the  domestics,  after  having. placed  the 
dinner  on  the  table,  sat  down  at  the  lower  end  of  the  board 
and  partook  of  the  share  which  was  assigned  to  them  in  com- 
pany with  their  masters.  On  the  day,  therefore,  after  Cud- 
die's  arrival,  being  the  third  from  the  opening  of  this  narra- 
tive, old  Kobin,  who  was  butler,  valet-de-chamlre,  footman, 
gardener,  and  what  not,  in  the  house  of  Milnwood,  placed  on 
the  table,  an  immense  charger  of  broth  thickened  with  oat- 
meal and  colewort,  in  which  ocean  of  liquid  were  indistinctly 
discovered  by  close  observers  two  or  three  short  ribs  of  lean 
mutton  sailing  to  and  fro.  Two  huge  baskets,  one  of  bread 
made  of  barley  and  pease  and  one  of  oat-cakes,  flanked  this 
standing  dish.  A  large  boiled  salmon  would  nowadays  have 
indicated  more  liberal  housekeeping;  but  at  that  period 
salmon  was  caught  in  such  plenty  in  the  considerable  rivers 
in  Scotland  that,  instead  of  being  accounted  a  delicacy,  it 
was  generally  applied  to  feed  the  servants,  who  are  said  some- 
times to  have  stipulated  that  they  should  not  be  required  to 
eat  a  food  so  luscious  and  surfeiting  in  its  quality  above  five 
times  a  week.  The  large  black-jack,  filled  with  very  small 
beer  of  Milnwood's  own  brewing,  was  allowed  to  the  company 
at  discretion,  as  were  the  bannocks,  cakes,  and  broth  ;  but  the 
mutton  was  reserved  for  the  heads  of  the  family,  Mrs.  Wilson 
included ;  and  a  measure  of  ale,  somewhat  deserving  the 
name,  was  set  apart  in  a  silver  tankard  for  their  exclusive 
use.  A  huge  kebbock — a  cheese,  that  is,  made  with  ewe-milk 
mixed  with  cow's  milk — and  a  jar  of  salt  butter  were  in  com- 
mon to  the  company. 

To  enjoy  this  exquisite  cheer  was  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  table  the  old  Laird  himself,  with  his  nephew  on  the  one 
side  and  the  favorite  housekeeper  on  the  other.  At  a  long 
interval,  and  beneath  the  salt,  of  course,  sat  old  Robin,  3 
meagre,  half-starved  serving-man,  rendered  cross  and  cripple 
by  rheumatism,  and   a   dirty  drab  of    a  housemaid,  whom 


66  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

use  had  rendered  callous  to  the  daily  exercitations  which 
her  temper  underwent  at  the  hands  of  her  master  and  Mrs. 
Wilson.  A  barnsman,  a  white-headed  cowherd  boy,  with 
Cuddie  the  new  ploughman  and  his  mother,  completed  the 
party.  The  other  laborers  belonging  to  the  property  re- 
sided in  their  own  houses,  happy  at  least  in  this,  that  if 
their  cheer  was  not  more  delicate  than  that  which  we  have 
described,  they  could  eat  their  fill  unwatched  by  the  sharp, 
envious  gray  eyes  of  Milnwood,  which  seemed  to  measure 
the  quantity  that  each  of  his  dependants  swallowed  as  closely 
as  if  their  glances  attended  each  mouthful  in  its  progress 
from  the  lips  to  the  stomach.  This  close  inspection  was 
unfavorable  to  Cuddie,  who  sustained  much  prejudice  in  his 
new  master's  opinion  by  the  silent  celerity  with  which  he 
caused  the  victuals  to  disappear  before  him.  And  ever  and 
anon  Milnwood  turned  his  eyes  from  the  huge  feeder  to  cast 
indignant  glances  upon  his  nephew,  whose  repugnance  to 
rustic  labor  was  the  principal  cause  of  his,  needing  a  plough- 
man, and  who  had  been  the  direct  means  of  his  hiring  this 
very  cormorant. 

''Pay  thee  wages,  quotha  !'' said  Milnwood  to  himself. 
''  Thou  wilt  eat  in  a  week  the  value  of  mair  than  thou  canst 
work  for  in  a  month.'* 

These  disagreeable  ruminations  were  interrupted  by  a  loud 
knocking  at  the  outer  gate.  It  was  a  universal  custom  in 
Scotland  that,  when  the  family  was  at  dinner,  the  outer  gate 
of  the  courtyard,  if  there  was  one,  and  if  not,  the  door  of  the 
house  itself,  was  always  shut  and  locked,  and  only  guests  of 
importance,  or  persons  upon  urgent  business,  sought  or  re- 
ceived admittance  at  that  time.*  The  family  of  Milnwood 
were  therefore  surprised  and,  in  the  unsettled  state  of  the 
times,  something  alarmed  at  the  earnest  and  repeated  knock- 
ing with  which  the  gate  was  now  assailed.  Mrs.  Wilson  ran 
in  person  to  the  door,  and  having  reconnoitred  those  who 
were  so  clamorous  for  admittance,  through  some  secret  aper- 
ture with  which  most  Scottish  doorways  were  furnished  for 
the  express  purpose,  she  returned  wringing  her  hands  in  great 
dismay,  exclaiming,  "  The  redcoats  !  the  redcoats  ! " 

''  Robin — ploughman,  what  ca'  they  ye  ? — barnsman — 
nevoy  Harry — open  the  door — open  the  door  ! "  exclaimed  old 
Milnwood,  snatching  up  and  slipping  into  his  pocket  the  two 
or  three  silver  spoons  with  which  the  upper  end  of  the*  table 
was  garnished,  those  beneath  the  salt  being  of  goodly  horn. 
•'Speak   them  fair,  sirs — Lord  love  ye,  speak   them  fair* 

*  See  Locking  the  Door  during  Dinner.    Note  12. 


OLD  MORTALITY  W 

they  winua  bide  thrawing ;  we're  a'  harried — we're  a'  har- 
ried ! " 

While  the  servants  admitted  the  troopers.,  whose  oaths  and 
threats  already  indicated  resentment  at  the  delay  they  had 
been  put  to,  Ouddie  took  the  opportunity  to  whisper  to  his 
mother,  ^'^  Now,  ye  daft  auld  carline,  mak  yoursell  deaf — ye 
hae  made  us  a'  deaf  ere  now — and  let  me  speak  for  ye.  I  wad 
like  ill  to  get  my  neck  raxed  for  an  auld  wife's  clashes,  though 
ye  be  our  mither." 

"  0  hinny,  ay  ;  I'se  be  silent  or  thou  sail  come  to  ill," 
was  the  corresponding  whisper  of  Mause  ;  **  but  bethink  ye, 
my  dear,  them  that  deny  the  Word,  the  Word  will  deny " 

Her  admonition  was  cut  short  by  the  entrance  of  the  Life 
Guardsmen,  a  party  of  four  troopers  commanded  by  Both- 
well. 

In  they  tramped,  making  a  tremendous  clatter  upon  the 
stone  floor  with  the  iron-shod  heels  of  their  large  iack-boots 
and  the  clash  and  clang  of  their  long,  heavy,  basket-hilted 
broadswords.  Milnwood  and  his  housekeeper  trembled  from 
well-grounded  apprehensions  of  the  system  of  exaction  and 
plunder  carried  on  during  these  domiciliary  visits.  Henry 
Morton  was  discomposed  with  more  special  cause,  for  he  re- 
membered that  he  stood  answerable  to  the  laws  for  having 
harbored  Burley.  The  widow,  Mause  Headrigg,  between  fear 
for  her  son's  life  and  an  overstrained  and  enthusiastic  zeal 
which  reproached  her  for  consenting  even  tacitly  to  belie  her 
religious  sentiments,  was  iir  a  strange  quandary.  The  other 
servants  quaked  for  they  knew  not  well  what.  Cuddie  alone, 
with  the  look  of  supreme  indifference  and  stupidity  which  a 
Scottish  peasant  can  at  times  assume  as  a  mask  for  consider- 
able shrewdness  and  craft,  continued  to  swallow  large  spoon- 
fuls of  his  broth,  to  command  which  he  had  drawn  within 
his  sphere  the  large  vessel  that  contained  it,  and  helped  him- 
self amid  the  confusion  to  a  sevenfold  portion. 

*'  What  is  your  pleasure  here,  gentlemen  ?"  said  Milnwood, 
humbling  himself  before  the  satellites  of  power. 

"  We  come  in  behalf  of  the  King,"  answered  Both  well. 
''  Why  the  devil  did  you  keep  us  so  long  standing  at  the 
door?" 

'*  We  were  at  dinner,"  answered  Milnwood,  '^  and  the  door 
was  locked,  as  is  usual  in  land  wart  towns*  in  this  country.  I 
am  sure,  gentlemen,  if  I  had  kenn'd  ony  servants  of  our  gude 

King  had  stood  at  the  door But  wad  ye  please  to  drink 

some  ale — or  some  brandy — or  a  cup  of  canary  sack,  or  claret 

♦  See  Landward  Town.    Note  13. 


68  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

wine  ?''  making  a  pause  between  each  offer  as  long  as  a  stingy 
bidder  at  an  auction,  who  is  loath  to  advance  his  offer  for  u 
favorite  lot. 

'^  Claret  for  me/^  said  one  fellow. 

"I  like  ale  better/' said  another,  "provided  it  is  right 
juice  of  John  Barleycorn/' 

"Better  never  was  malted,"  said  Milnwood.  "I  can 
hardly  say  sae  muckle  for  the  claret;  it's  thin  and  cauld, 
gentlemen." 

"  Brandy  will  cure  that,"  said  a  third  fellow  ;  "  a  glass  of 
brandy  to  three  glasses  of  wine  prevents  the  curmurring  in 
the  stomach." 

"  Brandy,  ale,  sack,  and  claret — we'll  try  them  all,"  said 
Both  well,  "  and  stick  to  that  which  is  best.  JThare^s-good 
sense  in  that  if  the  damn'dest  Whig  in  Scotland  had  said  it." 

Hastily,  yet  with  a  reluctant  quiver  of  his  muscles,  Miln- 
wood lugged  out  two  ponderous  keys,  and  delivered  them  to 
the  governante. 

"The  housekeeper,"  said  Bothwell,  taking  a  seat  and 
throwing  himself  upon  it,  "  is  neither  so  young  nor  so  hand- 
some as  to  tempt  a  man  to  follow  her  to  the  gauntrees,  and 
devil  a  one  here  is  there  worth  sending  in  her  place.  What's 
this  ?  meat  ? "  searching  with  a  fork  among  the  broth,  and 
fishing  up  a  cutlet  of  mutton.  "  I  think  I  could  eat  a  bit ; 
why,  it's  as  tough  as  if  the  devil's  dam  had  hatched  it." 

"If  there  is  anything  better  in  the  house,  sir,"  said  Miln- 
wood, alarmed  at  'these  symptoms«of  disapprobation 

"No,  no,"  said  Bothwell,  "it's  not  worth  while;  I  must 
proceed  to  business.  You  attend  Poundtext,  the  Presbyte- 
rian parson,  I  understand,  Mr.  Morton  ? " 

Mr.  Morton  hastened  to  slide  in  a  confession  and  apology. 

"  By  the  indulgence  of  his  gracious  Majesty  and  the  gov- 
ernment, for  I  wad  do  nothing  out  of  law.  I  hae  nae  objec- 
tion whatever  to  the  establishment  of  a  moderate  episcopacy, 
but  only  that  I  am  a  country-bred  man  and  the  ministers  are 
a  hamelier  kind  of  folk,  and  I  can  follow  their  doctrine  better ; 
and,  with  reverence,  sir,  it's  a  mair  frugal  establishment  for 
the  country." 

"  Well,  I  care  nothing  about  that,"  said  Bothwell ;  "they 
are  indulged,  and  there's  an  end  of  it ;  but,  for  my  part,  if  I 
were  to  give  the  law,  never  a  crop-ear'd  cur  of  the  whole 
pack  should  bark  in  a  Scotch  pulpit.  However,  I  am  to  obey 
commands.  There  comes  the  liquor  ;  put  it  down,  my  good 
old  lady." 


OLD  MORTALITY  6d 

He  decanted  about  one-half  of  a  quart  bottle  of  claret  into 
a  wooden  quaigli  or  bicker,  and  took  it  oil  at  a  draught. 

'*  You  did  your  good  wine  injustice,  my  friend  ;  it's  bet- 
ter than  your  brandy,  though  that's  good  too.  Will  you 
pledge  me  to  the  King's  health  ?  " 

^'  With  pleasure,"  said  Milnwood,  "  in  ale ;  but  I  never 
drink  claret,  and  keep  only  a  very  little  for  some  honored 
friends." 

*'  Like  me,  I  suppose,"  said  Both  well  ;  and  then  pushing 
the  bottle  to  Henry,  he  said,  '^  Here,  young  man,  pledge  you 
the  King's  health." 

Henry  filled  a  moderate  glass  in  silence,  regardless  of  the 
hints  and  pushes  of  his  uncle,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that 
he  ought  to  have  followed  his  example  in  preferring  beer  to 
wine. 

*^Well,"  said  Bothwell,  ''have  ye  all  drank  the  toast? 
What  is  that  old  wife  about  ?  Give  her  a  glass  of  brandy  ; 
she  shall  drink  the  King's  health,  by " 

"If  your  honor  pleases,"  said  Cuddie,  with  great  stolidity 
of  aspect,  ''this  is  my  mither,  stir;  and.,sh^'»  fts  deaf  as 
Corra  Linn.  We  canna  mak  her  hear  day  nor  door  ;  but  if 
your  honor  pleases,  I  am  ready  to  drink  the  King's  health 
for  her  in  as  mony  glasses  of  brandy  as  ye  think  neshessary." 

"  I  dare  swear  you  are,"  answered  Bothwell  ;  "  you  look 
like  a  fellow  that  would  stick  to  brandy.  Help  thyself,  man  ; 
all's  free  where'er  I  come.  Tom,  help  the  maid  to  a  com- 
fortable cup,  though  she's  but  a  dirty  jilt  neither.  Fill 
round  once  more.  Here's  to  our  noble  commander,  Colonel 
Grahame  of  Claverhouse  !  What  the  devil  is  the  old  woman 
groaning  for  ?  She  looks  as  very  a  Whig  as  ever  sat  on  a 
hillside.     Do  you  renounce  the  Covenant,  good  woman  ?  " 

"  Whilk  Covenant  is  your  honor  meaning  ?  Is  it  the 
Covenant  of  Works  or  the  Covenant  of  Grace  ?  "  said  Cuddie, 
interposing. 

"  Any  covenant ;  all  covenants  that  ever  were, hatched,'* 
answered  the  trooper. 

"  Mither,"  cried  Cuddie,  affecting  to  speak  as  to  a  deaf 

Serson,  "  the  gentleman  wants  to  ken  if  ye  will  renunce  the 
ovenant  of  Works  ?" 
"With  all  my  heart,  Cuddie,"  said  Mause,  "and  pray 
that  my  feet  may  be  delivered  from  the  snare  thereof." 

"  Come,"  said  Bothwell,  "the  old  dame  has  come  more 
frankly  off  than  I  expected.  Another  cup  round,  and  then 
we'll  proceed  to  business.  You  have  all  heard,  I  suppose,  of 
the  horrid  and  barbarous  murder  committed  upon  the  person 


70  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews,  by  ten  or  eleven  armed 
fanatics  ?" 

All  started  and  looked  at  each  other ;  at  length  Milnwood 
himself  answered,  "  They  had  heard  of  some  such  misfortune, 
but  were  in  hopes  it  had  not  been  true/^ 

**  There  is  the  relation  published  by  government,  old  gen- 
tleman ;  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  Think,  sir  ?  Wh — wh — whatever  the  council  please  to 
think  of  it,''  stammered  Milnwood. 

"  I  desire  to  have  your  opinion  more  explicitly,  my  friend,'' 
said  the  dragoon,  authoritatively. 

Milnwood's  eyes  hastily  glanced  through  the  paper  to  pick 
out  the  strongest  expressions  of  censure  with  which  it 
abounded,  in  gleaning  which  he  was  greatly  aided  by  their 
being  printed  in  italics.  "  I  think  it  a — bloody  and  execrable 
— murder  and  parricide— devised  by  hellish  and  implacable 
cruelty — utterly  abominable,  and  a  scandal  to  the  land." 

"Well  said,  old  gentleman  !"  said  the  querist.  "  Here's 
to  thee,  and  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  good  principles.  You 
owe  me  a  cup  of  thanks  for  having  taught  you  them  ;  nay, 
thou  shalt  pledge  me  in  thine  own  sack,  sour  ale  sits  ill  upon 
a  loyal  stomach.  Now  comes  your  turn,  young  man  ;  what 
think  you  of  the  matter  in  hand  ?  " 

''  I  should  have  little  objection  to  answer  you,"  said  Henry, 
''if  I  knew  what  right  you  had  to  put  the  question." 

"  The  Lord  preserve  us  !  "  said  the  old  housekeeper,  ''  to 
ask  the  like  o'  that  at  a  trooper,  when  a'  folk  ken  they  do 
whatever  they  like  through  the  haill  country  wi'  man  "and 
woman,  beast  and  body." 

The  old  gentleman  exclaimed  in  the  same  horror  at  his 
nephew's  audacity,  "  Hold  your  peace,  sir,  or  answer  the 
gentleman  discreetly.  Do  you  mean  to  affront  the  King's 
authority  in  the  person  of  a  sergeant  of  the  Life  Guards  ?  " 

"Silence,  all  of  you!"  exclaimed  Bothwell,  striking  his 
hand  fiercely  on  the  table — "silence,  every  one  of  you,  and 
hear  me  !  You  ask  me  for  my  right  to  examine  you,  sir  (to 
Henry^.  My  cockade  and  my  broadsword  are  my  commission, 
and  a  oetter  one  than  ever  Old  Nol  gave  to  his  Roundheads ; 
and  if  you  want  to  know  more  about  it  you  may  look  at  the 
act  of  council  empowering  his  Majesty's  officers  and  sol- 
diers to  search  for,  examine,  and  apprehend  suspicious  per- 
sons ;  and  therefore  once  more  I  ask  you  your  opinion  of  the 
death  of  Archbishop  Sharp.  It's  a  new  touchstone  we  have 
got  for  trying  people's  metal." 

Henry  haS  oy  this  time  reflected  upon  the  useless  risk  to 


OLD  MORTALITY  71 

which  he  would  expose  the  family  by  resisting  the  tyrannical 
power  which  was  delegated  to  such  rude  hands  ;  he  therefore 
read  the  narrative  over,  and  replied  composedly,  '*  I  have  no 
hesitation  to  say  that  the  perpetrators  of  this  assassination 
have  committed,  in  my  opinion,  a  rash  and  wicked  action, 
which  I  regret  the  more  as  I  foresee  it  will  be  made  the  cause 
of  proceedings  against  many  who  are  both  innocent  of  the 
deed  and  as  far  from  approving  it  as  myself." 

While  Henry  thus  expressed  himself,  Bothwell,  who  bent 
his  eyes  keenly  upon  him,  seemed  suddenly  to  recollect  his 
features.  '*  Aha  !  my  friend.  Captain  Popinjay,  I  think  I 
have  seen  you  before,  and  in  very  suspicious  company." 

''I  saw  you  once,"  answered  Henry,  *'in  the  public-house 
of  the  town  of " 

*^  And  with  whom  did  you  leave  that  public-house,  young- 
ster ?  Was  it  not  with  John  Balfour  of  Burley,  one  of  the 
murderers  of  the  Archbishop  ?  " 

'^  I  did  leave  the  house  with  the  person  you  have  named/* 
answered  Henry,  "  I  scorn  to  deny  it ;  but  so  far  from  know- 
ing him  to  be  a  murderer  of  the  primate,  I  did  not  even  know 
at  the  time  that  such  a  crime  had  been  committed." 

"  Lord  have  mercy  on  me,  I  am  ruined  ! — utterly  ruined  and 
undone  ! "  exclaimed  Milnwood.  **  That  callant's  tongue  will 
rin  the  head  aff  his  ain  shoulders,  and  waste  my  gudes  to  the 
very  gray  cloak  on  my  back  ! " 

"  But  you  knew  Burley,"  continued  Bothwell,  still  ad- 
dressing Henry,  and  regardless  of  his  uncle's  interruption, 
"  to  be  an  intercommuned  rebel  and  traitor,  and  you  knew  the 
prohibition  to  deal  with  such  persons.  You  knew  that  as  a 
loyal  subject  you  were  prohibited  to  reset,  supply,  or  inter- 
commune  with  this  attainted  traitor,  to  correspond  with  him 
by  word,  writ,  or  message,  or  to  supply  him  with  meat,  drink, 
house,  harbor,  or  victual,  under  the  highest  pains — you  knew 
all  this,  and  yet  you  broke  the  law.  [Henry  was  silent.] 
Where  did  you  part  from  him  ?"  continued  Bothwell ;  ^'  was 
it  in  the  highway,  or  did  you  give  him  harborage  in  this  very 
house  ?  " 

*'In  this  house  !"  said  his  uncle  ;  '^he  dared  not  for  his 
neck  bring  ony  traitor  into  a  house  of  mine." 

*^Dare  he  deny  that  he  did  so  ?"  said  Bothwell. 

''As  you  charge  it  to  me  as  a  crime,"  said  Henry, 
''you  will  excuse  my  saying  anything  that  will  criminate 
myself." 

"  0,  the  lands  of  Milnwood  !  the  bonny  lands  of  Milnwood, 
that  have  been  in  the  name^  of  Morton  twa  hundred  years  I*' 


73  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

exclaimed  his  uncle.     "  They  are  barking  and  fleeing,  outfield 
and  infield,  haugh  and  holme  ! " 

**  No,  sir,"  said  Henry,  '^  you  shall  not  suffer  on  my  account. 
I  own,"  he  continued,  addressing  Both  well,  *'I  did  give  this 
man  a  night's  lodging,  as  to  an  old  military  comrade  of  my 
father.  But  it  was  not  only  without  my  uncle's  knowledge, 
but  contrary  to  his  express  general  orders.  I  trust,  if  my  evi- 
dence is  considered  as  good  against  myself,  it  will  have  some 
weight  in  proving  my  uncle's  innocence." 

"  Come,  young  man,"  said  the  soldier,  in  a  somewhat  milder 
tone,  "you're  a  smart  spark  enough,  and  I  am  sorry  for  you  ; 
and  your  uncle  here  is  a  fine  old  Trojan,  kinder,  I  see,  to  his 
guests  than  himself,  for  he  gives  us  wine  and  drinks  his  own 
thin  alQ.  Tell  me  all  you  know  about  this  Burley,  what  he 
said  when  you  parted  from  him,  where  he  went,  and  where  he 
is  likely  now  to  be  found ;  and,  d — n  it,  I'll  wink  as  hard  on 
your  share  of  the  business  as  my  duty  will  permit.  There's 
a  thousand  merks  on  the  murdering  Whigamore's  head  an  I 
could  but  light  on  it.  Come,  out  with  it ;  where  did  you  part 
with  him?" 

"You  will  excuse  my  answering  that  question,  sir,"  said 
Morton.  "  The  same  cogent  reasons  which  induced  me  to 
afford  him  hospitality  at  considerable  risk  to  myself  aijd  my 
friends  would  command  me  to  respect  his  secret,  if  indeed  he 
had  trusted  me  with  any." 

"So  you  refuse  to  give  me  an  answer  ?"  said  Bothwell. 

"  I  have  none  to  give,"  returned  Henry. 

"  Perhaps  I  could  teach  you  to  find  one  by  tying  a  piece 
of  lighted  match  betwixt  your  fingers,"  answered  Bothwell. 

"  0,  for  pity's  sake,  sir,"  said  old  Alison  apart  to  her 
master,  "gie  them  siller  ;  it's  siller  they're  seeking.  They'll 
murder  Mr.  Henry,  and  yoursell  next ! " 

Milnwood  groaned  in  perplexity  and  bitterness  of  spirit, 
and,  with  a  tone  as  if  he  was  giving  up  the  ghost,  exclaimed, 
"  If  twenty  p — p — ^punds  would  make  up  this  unhappy  mat- 
ter  " 

"  My  master,"  insinuated  Alison  to  the  sergeant,  "  would 
gie  twenty  punds  sterling " 

"  Punds  Scotch,  ye  b — h  ! "  interrupted  Milnwood  ;  for 
the  agony  of  his  avarice  overcame  alike  his  Puritanic  pre- 
cision and  the  habitual  respect  he  entertained  for  his  house- 
keeper. 

"  Punds  sterling,"  insisted  the  housekeeper,  "  if  ye  wad 
ixae  the  gudeness  to  look  ower  the  lad's  misconduct.  He's 
that  dour  ye  might  tear  him  to  pieces  and  ye  wad  ne'er  get  a 


OLD  MORTALITY  73 

word  out  o'  him  ;  and  it  wad  do  ye  little  gnde,  Fm  sure,  to 
bnrn  his  bonny  finger-ends/-* 

^'  Why/^  said  Bothwell,  hesitating,  ^'  I  don^t  know.  Most 
of  my  cloth  would  have  the  money,  and  take  off  the  prisoner 
too  ;"but  I  bear  a  conscience,  and  if  your  master  will  stand  to 
your  offer,  and  enter  into  a  bond  to  produce  his  nephew,  and 
if  all  in  the  house  will  take  the  test-oath,  I  do  not  know 
but " 

'^  0  ay,  ay,  sir,^^  cried  Mrs.  Wilson,  '^  ony  test,  ony  oaths 
ye  please  ! ''  And'  then  aside  to  her  master,  **  Haste  ye  away, 
sir,  and  get  the  siller,  or  thev  will  burn  the  house  about  our 
lugs.^^ 

Old  Milnwood  cast  a  rueful  look  upon  his  adviser,  and 
moved  off  like  a  piece  of  Dutch  clockwork  to  set  at  liberty  his 
imprisoned  angels  in  this  dire  emergency.  Meanwhile  Sergeant 
Bothwell  began  to  put  the  test-oath  with  such  a  degree  of 
solemn  reverence  as  might  have  been  expected,  being  just 
about  the  same  which  is  used  to  this  day  in  his  Majesty's  cus- 
tom-house. 

'^  You — what's  your  name,  woman  ?  " 

"  Alison  Wilson,  sir.'' 

*'  You,  Alison  Wilson,  solemnly  swear,  certify,  and  declare 
that  you  judge  it  unlawful  for  subjects,  under  pretext  of  ref- 
ormation or  any  other  pretext  whatsoever,  to  enter  into 
Leagues  and  Covenants " 

Here  the  ceremony  was  interrupted  by  a  strife  between 
Cuddie  and  his  mother,  which,  long  conducted  in  whispers,now 
became  audible. 

''  Oh,  whisht,  mither,  whisht !  they're  upon  a  communing. 
Oh  !  whisht,  and  they'll  agree  weel  eneugh  e'enow." 

*'I  will  not  whisht,  Cuddie,"  replied  his  mother;  ''I  will 
uplift  my  voice  and  spare  not.  I  will  confound  the  man  of  sin, 
even  the  scarlet  man,  and  through  my  voice  shall  Mr.  Henry 
be  freed  from  the  net  of  the  fowler." 

*'  She  has  her  leg  ower  the  harrows  now,"  said  Cuddie, 
"  stop  her  wha  can.  I  see  her  cocked  up.  behint  a  dragoon 
on  her  way  to  the  tolbooth.  I  find  my  ain  legs  tied  below  a 
horse's  belly.  Ay,  she  has  just  mustered  up  her  sermon,  and 
there,  wi'  that  grane,  out  it  comes,  and  we  are  a'  ruined,  horse 
and  foot!" 

"  And  div  ye  think  to  come  here,"  said  Mause,  her  with- 
ered hand  shaking  in  concert  with  her  keen  though  wrinkled 
visage,  animated  by  zealous  wrath,  and  emancipated,  by  the 
very  mention  of  the  test,  from  the  restraints  of  her  own  pru- 
dence and  Cuddle's  admonition — ^'  div  ye  think  to  come  here 


74  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

wi*  your  soul-killing,  saint-seducing,  conscience-confounding 
oaths  and  tests  and  bands,  your  snares  and  your  traps  and 
your  gins  ?  Surely  it  is  in  vain  that  a  net  is  spread  in  the 
sight  of  any  bird." 

"  Eh  !  what,  good  dame  ?"  said  the  soldier.  *'  Here's  a 
Whig  miracle,  egad  !  the  old  wife  has  got  both  her  ears  and 
tongue,  and  we  are  like  to  be  driven  deaf  in  our  turn.  Go 
to,  hold  your  peace,  and  remember  whom  you  talk  to,  you  old 
idiot." 

"  Whae  do  I  talk  to  !  Eh,  sirs,  owerweel  may  the  sorrow- 
ing land  ken  what  ye  are.  Malignant  adherents  ye  are  to  the 
prelates,  foul  props  to  a  feeble  and  filthy  cause,  bloody  beasts 
of  prey  and  burdens  to  the  earth." 

"  Upon  my  soul,"  said  Both  well,  astonished  as  a  mastiff 
dog  might  be  should  a  hen-partridge  fly  at  him  in  defence  of 
her  young,  "  this  is  the  finest  language  I  ever  heard  !  Can't 
you  give  us  some  more  of  it  ?" 

'*  Gie  ye  some  mair  o't  ?"  said  Mause,  clearing  her  voice 
with  a  preliminary  cough.  '^  I  will  take  up  my  testimony 
against  you  ance  and  again.  Philistines  ye  are,  and  Edom- 
ites  ;  leopards  are  ye,  and  foxes  ;  evening  wolves  that  gnaw 
not  the  bones  till  the  morrow  ;  wicked  dogs  that  compass 
about  the  chosen  ;  thrusting  kine,  and  pushing  bulls  of 
Bashan  ;  piercing  serpents  ye  are,  and  allied  baith  in  name 
and  nature  with  the  great  Ked  Dragon — Revelations,  twalfth 
chapter,  third  and  fourth  verses." 

Here  the  old  lady  stopped,  apparently  much  more  from 
lack  of  breath  than  of  matter. 

"  Curse  the  old  hag  !  "  said  one  of  the  dragoons  ;  ''  gag 
her  and  take  her  to  headquarters." 

''  For  shame,  Andrews  ! "  said  Both  well ;  *'  remember  the 
good  lady  belongs  to  the  fair  sex,  and  uses  only  the  privilege 
of  her  tongue.  But  hark  ye,  good  woman,  every  bull  of 
Bashan  and  Red  Dragon  will  not  be  so  civil  as  I  am,  or  be 
contented  to  leave  you  to  the  charge  of  the  constable  and 
ducking-stool.  In  the  meantime  I  must  necessarily  carry  off 
this  young  man  to  headquarters.  I  cannot  answer  to  my 
commanding  officer  to  leave  him  in  a  house  where  I  have 
heard  so  much  treason  and  fanaticism." 

"  See  now,  mither,  what  ye  hae  dune,"  whispered  Cuddie ; 
"  there's  the  Philistines,  as  ye  ca'  them,  are  gaun  to  whirry 
awa*  Mr.  Henry,  and  a'  wi'  your  naah-gab,  deil  be  on't  I " 

*'  Hand  ye  re  tongue,  ye  cowardly  loon,"  said  the  mother, 
*'  and  layna  the  wyte  on  me  ;  if  you  and  thae  thowless  glut- 
tons, that  are  sitting  staring  like  cows  bursting  on  clover. 


OLD  MORTALITY  75 

wad  testify  wi'  your  hands  as  I  have  testified  wi'  my  tongue, 
they  should  never  harle  the  precious  young  lad  awa'  to  cap- 
tivity/' 

While  this  dialogue  passed  the  soldiers  had  already  bound 
and  secured  their  prisoner.  Milnwood  returned  at  this  in- 
stant, and,  alarmed  at  the  preparations  he  beheld,  hastened  to 
proffer  to  Bothwell,  though  with  many  a  grievous  groan,  the 
purse  of  gold  which  he  had  been  obliged  to  rummage  out  as 
ransom  for  his  nephew.  The  trooper  took  the  purse  with  an 
air  of  indifference,  weighed  it  in  his  hand,  chucked  it  up  into 
the  air,  and  caught  it  as  it  fell,  then  shook  his  head  and  said, 
''There's  many  a  merry  night  in  this  nest  of  yellow,  boys, 
but  d — n  me  if  I  dare  venture  for  them  ;  that  old  woman  has 
spoken  too  loud,  and  before  all  the  men  too.  Hark  ye,  old 
gentleman,'' to  Milnwood,  *'Imust  take  your  nephew  to  head- 
quarters, so  I  cannot  in  conscience  keep  more  than  is  my  due 
as  civility-money ; "  then  opening  the  purse  he  gave  a  gold 
piece  to  each  of  the  soldiers  and  took  three  to  himself. 
*'Now,"  said  he,  ''you  have  the  comfort  to  know  that  your 
kinsman,  young  Captain  Popinjay,  will  be  carefully  looked 
after  and  civilly  used ;  and  the  rest  of  the  money  I  return  to 
you." 

Milnwood  eagerly  extended  his  hand. 

"  Only  you  know,"  said  Bothwell,  still  playing  with  the 
purse,  "  that  every  landholder  is  answerable  for  the  conformity 
and  loyalty  of  his  household,  and  that  these  fellows  of  mine 
are  not  obliged  to  be  silent  on  the  subject  of  the  fine  sermon 
we  have  had  from  that  old  Puritan  in  the  tartan  plaid  there; 
and  I  presume  you  are  aware  that  the  consequences  of  dela- 
tion will  be  a  heavy  fine  before  the  council." 

"Good  sergeant  !  worthy  captain  !"  exclaimed  the  terri- 
fied miser,  "  I  am  sure  there  is  no  person  in  my  house,  to  my 
knowledge,  would  give  cause  of  offence." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Bothwell,  "  you  shall  hear  her  give  her 
testimony,  as  she  calls  it,  herself.  You,  fellow  [to  Ouddie], 
stand  back  and  let  your  mother  speak  her  mind.  I  see  she  s 
primed  and  loaded  again  since  her  first  discharge." 

"  Lord  !  noble  sir,"  said  Cuddie,  "  an  auld  wife's  tongue's 
but  a  feckless  matter  to  mak  sic  a  fash  about.  Neither  my 
father  nor  me  ever  minded  muckle  what  our  mither  said." 

"  Hold  your  peace,  my  lad,  while  you  are  well,"  said 
Bothwell ;  "  I  promise  you  I  think  you  are  slyer  than  you 
would  like  to  be  supposed.  Come,  good  dame,  you  see  your 
master  will  not  believe  that  you  can  give  us  so  bright  a  testi- 
mony," 


76  WA VERLEY  NOVELS 

Manse's  zeal  did  not  require  tliis  spur  to  set  her  again  on 
full  career.  "  Woe  to  the  compilers  and  carnal  self-seekers/' 
she  said,  "that  daub  over  and  drown  their  consciences  by 
complying  with  wicked  exactions,  and  giving  mammon  of 
unrighteousness  to  the  sons  of  Belial  that  it  may  make  their 
peace  with  them  !  It  is  a  sinful  compliance,  a  base  con- 
federacy with  the  Enemy.  It  is  the  evil  that  Menahan  did 
in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  when  he  gave  a  thousand  talents 
to  Peel,  King  of  Assyria,  that  his  hand  might  be  with  him — 
Second  Kings,  feif teen  chapter,  nineteen  verse.  It  is  the  evil 
deed  of  Ahab  when  he  sent  money  to  Tiglath-Peleser — see 
the  saame  Second  Kings,  saxteen  and  aught.  And  if  it  was 
accounted  a  backsliding  even  in  godly  Hezekiah  that  he  com- 
plied with  Sennacherib,  giving  him  money  and  offering  to 
bear  that  which  was  put  upon  him — see  the  saame  Second 
Kings,  aughteen  chapter,  fourteen  and  feif  teen  verses — even 
so  it  is  with  them  that  in  this  contumacious  and  backsliding 
generation  pays  localities  and  fees,  and  cess  and  fines,  to 
greedy  and  unrighteous  publicans,  and  extortions  and  stipends 
to  hireling  curates — dumb  dogs  which  bark  not,  sleeping,  lying 
down,  loving  to  slumber — and  gives  gifts  to  be  helps  and  hires 
to  our  oppressors  and  destroyers.  Tliey  are  all  like  the  casters 
of  a  lot  with  them,  like  the  preparing  of  a  table  for  the  troop 
and  the  furnishing  a  drink-offering  to  the  number.'' 

*'  There's  a  fine  sound  of  doctrine  for  you,  Mr.  Morton  I 
How  like  you  that  ?  "  said  Both  well ;  '^^  or  how  do  you  think 
the  council  will  like  it  ?  I  think  we  can  carry  the  greatest 
part  of  it  in  our  heads  without  a  keelyvine  pen  and  a  pair  of 
tablets,  such  as  you  bring  to  conventicles.  She  denies  paying 
cess,  I  think,  Andrews  ?" 

''Yes,  by  G — ,"  said  Andrews  ;  "and  she  swore  it  was  a 
sin  to  give  a  trooper  a  pot  of  ale,  or  ask  him  to  sit  down  to  a 
table." 

"  You  hear,"  said  Both  well,  addressing  Milnwood ;  "  but 
it's  your  own  affair  ;  "  and  he  proffered  back  the  purse  with 
its  diminished  contents  with  an  air  of  indifference. 

Milnwood,  whose  head  seemed  stunned  by  the  accumula- 
tion of  his  misfortunes,  extended  his  hand  mechanically  to 
take  the  purse. 

*'  Are  ye  mad  ?  "  said  his  housekeeper,  in  a  whisper.  "  Tell 
them  to 'keep  it ;  they  will  keep  it  either  by  fair  means  or 
foul,  and  it's  our  only  chance  to  make  them  quiet." 

"  I  canna  do  it,  Ailie — I  canna  do  it,"  said  Milnwood,  in 
the  bitterness  of  his  heart.  "  I  canna  part  wi'  the  siller  I  hao 
counted  sae  often  ower  to  thae  blackguards." 


OLD  MORTALITY  Tl 

'*  Then  I  mann  do  it  mysell,  Milnwood,"  said  the  house- 
keeper, *^  or  see  a'  gang  wrang  thegither.  My  master,  sir,'' 
she  said,  addressing  Both  well,  "  canna  think  o'  taking  back 
onything  at  the  hand  of  an  honorable  gentleman  like  you  ;  he 
implores  ye  to  pit  up  the  siller  and  be  as  kind  to  his  nephew 
as  ye  can,  and  be  favorable  in  reporting  our  dispositions  to 
government,  and  let  us  tak  nae  wrang  for  the  daft  speeches  of 
anauld  jaud  [here  she  turned  fiercely  upon  Mause,  to  indulge 
herself  for  the  effort  which  it  cost  her  to  assume  a  mild  de- 
meanor to  the  soldiers],  a  daft  auld  Whig  randy,  that  ne'er 
was  in  the  house,  foul  fa'  her  !  till  yesterday  afternoon,  and 
that  sail  ne'er  cross  the  door-stane  again  an  anes  I  had  her 
out  o't." 

'^Ay,  ay,"  whispered  Guddie  to  his  parent,  "e'en  sae !  I 
kenn'd  we  wad  be  put  to  our  travels  again  whene'er  ye  suld 
get  three  words  spoken  to  an  end.  I  was  sure  that  wad  be 
the  upshot  o't,  mither." 

"  Whisht,  my  bairn,"  said  she,  "  and  dinna  murmur  at  the 
cross.  Cross  their  door-stane  !  weel  I  wot  I'll  ne'er  cross  their 
door-stane.  There's  nae  mark  on  their  threshold  for  a  signal 
that  the  destrojdng  angel  should  pass  by.  They'll  get  a  back- 
cast  o'  his  hand  yet  that  think  sae  muckle  o'  the  creature  and 
sae  little  o'  the  Creator ;  sae  muckle  o'  warld^s  gear  and  sae 
little  o'  a  broken  Covenant ;  sae  muckle  about  thae  wheen 
pieces  o'  yellow  muck  and  sae  little  about  the  pure  gold  o'the 
Scripture  ;  sae  muckle  about  their  ain  friend  and  kinsman  and 
sae  little  about  the  elect  that  are  tried  wi'  homings,  harassings, 
huntings,  searchings,  chasings,  catchings,  imprisonments, 
torturings,  banishments,  headings,  hangings,  dismemberings, 
and  quarterings  quick,  forbye  the  hundreds  forged  from  their 
ain  habitations  to  the  deserts,  mountains,  muirs,  mosses, 
moss-flows,  and  peat-hags,  there  to  hear  the  Word  like  bread 
eaten  in  secret." 

"  She's  at  the  Covenant  now,  sergeant,  shall  we  not  have 
her  away  ?  "  said  one  of  the  soldiers. 

"  You  be  d — d  ! "  said  Both  well  aside  to  him  ;  "  cannot  you  ' 
see  she's  better  where  she  is,  so  long  as  there  is  a  respectable, 
sponsible,  money-broking  heritor  like  Mr.  Morton  of  Miln- 
wood,  who  has  the  means  of  atoning  her  trespasses  ?  Let  the 
old  mother  fly  to  raise  another  brood,  ^he's  too  tough  to  be  \ 
mad^__anything__oLJiersell.  Here,"  he  cried,  "one  ether 
round  toMilnwood  and  his  roof-tree,  and  to  our  next  merry 
meeting  with  him,  which  I  think  will  not  be  far  distant  if  he 
keeps  such  a  fanatical  family." 

He  then  ordered  the  party  to  take  their  horses,  and  pressef" 


78  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  best  in  Milnwood^s  stable  into  the  king^s  service  to  carry 
the  prisoner.  Mrs.  Wilson^  with  weeping  eyes,  made  up  a 
small  parcel  of  necessaries  for  Henry's  compelled  journey,  and 
as  she  bustled  about,  took  an  opportunity,  unseen  by  the 
party,  to  slip  into  his  hand  a  small  sum  of  money.  Both  well 
and  his  troopers  in  other  respects  kept  their  promise  and  were 
civil.  They  did  not  bind  their  prisoner,  but  contented  them- 
selves with  leading  his  horse  between  a  file  of  men.  They 
then  mounted  and  marched  off  with  much  mirth  and  laughter 
among  themselves,  leaving  the  Milnwood  family  in  great  con- 
fusion. The  old  Laird  himself,  overpowered  by  the  loss  of 
his  nephew,  and  the  unavailing  outlay  of  twenty  pounds  ster- 
ling, did  nothing  the  whole  evening  but  rock  himself  back- 
wards and  forwards  in  his  great  leathern  easy-chair,  repeat- 
ing the  same  lamentation  of  *^^Euined  on  a'  sides — ruined  on 
a'  sides ;  harried  and  undone — harried  and  undone,  body  and 
gudes — body  and  gudes  ! " 

Mrs.  Alison  Wilson's  grief  was  partly  indulged  and  partly 
relieved  by  the  torrent  of  invecti^  es  with  which  she  accom- 
panied Mause  and  Cuddle's  expulsion  from  Milnwood.  *^'I11 
luck  be  in  the  graning  corse  o'  thee  !  The  prettiest  lad  in 
Clydesdale  this  day  maun  be  a  sufferer,  and  a'  for  you  and 
your  daft  Whiggery  ! " 

"  Gae  wa',"  replied  Mause  ;  '*  I  trow  ye  are  yet  in  the  bonds 
of  sin  and  in  the  gall  of  iniquity,  to  grudge  your  bonniest  and 
best  in  the  cause  of  Him  that  gave  ye  a'  ye  hae.  I  promise  I 
hae  dune  as  muckle  for  Mr.  Harry  as  I  wad  do  for  my  ain  ;  for 
if  Cuddle  was  found  worthy  to  bear  testimony  in  the  Grass- 
market " 

''And  there's  gude  hope  o't,"  said  Alison,  *' unless  yon 
and  he  change  your  courses. " 

"  And  if,"  continued  Mause,  disregarding  the  interrup- 
tion, ''the  bloody  Doegs  and  the  flattering  Ziphites  were  to 
seek  to  ensnare  me  with  a  proffer  of  his  remission  upon  sin- 
ful compliances,  I  wad  persevere,  natheless,  in  lifting  my 
testimony  against  Popery,  Prelacy,  Antinomianism,  Erastian- 
ism,  Lapsarianism,  Sublapsarianism,  and  the  sins  and  snares 
of  the  times  ;  I  wad  cry  as  a  woman  in  labor  against  the 
Black  Indulgence  that  has  been  a  stumbling-block  to  profes- 
sors ;  I  wad  uplift  my  voice  as  a  powerful  preacher." 

"  Hout  tout,  mither,"  cried  Cuddie,  interfering  and  drag- 
ging her  off  forcibly,  "dinna  deave  the  gentlewoman  wi' 
your  testimony  !  ye  hae  preached  eneugh  for  sax  days.  Ye 
preached  us  out  o  our  canny  free-house  and  gude  kale-yard, 
and  out  o'  this  new  city  o'  refuge  afore  our  hinder  end  wa« 


OLD  MORTALITY  7« 

weel  haf ted  in  it ;  and  ye  hae  preached  Mr.  Harry  awa'  to  the 
prison  ;  and  ye  hae  preached  twenty  punds  out  o'  the  Laird's 
pocket  that  he  likes  as  ill  to  quit  wi'  ;  and  sae  ye  may  haud 
sae  for  ae  wee  while,  without  preaching  me  up  a  ladder  and 
down  a  tow.  Sae  comeawa' — come  awa"*;  the  family  hae  had 
eneugh  o'  your  testimony  to  mind  it  for  ae  while.'' 

So  saying  he  dragged  off  Mause,  the  words  '^Testimony, 
Covenant,  malignants,  indulgence ''  still  thrilling  upon  her 
tongue,  to  make  preparations  for  instantly  renewing  their 
travels  in  quest  of  an  asylum. 

"Ill-faur'd,  crazy,  crack-brained  gowk  that  she  is!"  ex- 
claimed the  hous3keeper,  as  she  saw  them  depart,  '*to  set  up 
to  be  sae  muckle  better  than  ither  folk,  the  auld  besom,  and 
to  bring  sae  muckle  distress  on  a  douce  quiet  family  !  If  it 
hadna  been  that  I  am  mair  than  half  a  gentlewoman  by  my 
station,  I  wad  hae  tried  my  ten  nails  in  the  wizen'd  hide  o' 
her!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

I  am  a  son  of  Mars,  who  have  been  in  many  wars, 
And  show  my  cuts  and  scars  wherever  I  come  ; 
This  here  was  for  a  wench,  and  that  other  in  a  trench, 
When  welcoming  the  French  at  the  somid  of  the  drum. 

Burns. 

"  Don't  be  too  much  cast  down/'  said  Sergeant  Both  well  to 
his  prisoner  as  they  journeyed  on  towards  the  headquarters ; 
"  you  are  a  smart  pretty  lad,  and  well  connected  ;  the  worst 
that  will  happen  will  be  strapping  up  for  it,  and  that  is  many 
an  honest  fellow's  lot.  I  tell  you  fairly  your  life's  within  the 
compass  of  the  law,  unless  you  make  submission  and  get  off 
by  a  round  fine  upon  your  uncle's  estate  ;  he  can  well  afford  it." 

"That  vexes  me  more  than  the  rest,"  said  Henry.  "  He 
parts  with  his  money  with  regret ;  and,  as  he  had  no  concern 
whatever  with  my  having  given  this  person  shelter  for  a  night, 
I  wish  to  Heaven,  if  I  escape  a  capital  punishment,  that  the 
penalty  may  be  of  a  kind  I  could  bear  in  my  own  person." 

"Why,  perhaps,"  said  Bothwell,  "they  will  propose  to 
you  to  go  into  one  of  the  Scotch  regiments  that  are  serving 
abroad.  It's  no  bad  line  of  service  ;  if  your  friends  are  active, 
and  there  are  any  knocks  going,  you  may  soon  get  a  commis- 
sion." 

"  I  am  by  no  means  sure,"  answered  Morton,  "that  such 
a  sentence  is  not  the  best  thing  that  can  happen  to  me." 

"Why,  then,  you  are  no  real  Whig  after  all  ?"  said  the 
sergeant. 

"  I  have  hitherto  meddled  with  no  party  in  the  state,"  said 
Henry,  "  but  have  remained  quietly  at  home ;  and  sometimes 
I  have  had  serious  thoughts  of  joining  one  of  our  foreign  regi- 
ments." 

"  Have  you  ?  "  replied  Bothwell.  "  Why,  I  honor  you  for 
it ;  I  have  served  in  the  Scotch  French  guards  myself  many 
a  long  day  ;  it's  the  place  for  learning  discipline,  d — n  me. 
They  never  mind  what  you  do  when  you  are  off  duty ;  but 
miss  you  the  roll-call,  and  see  how  they'll  arrange  you.  I) — n 
me,  if  old  Captain  Montgomery  didn't  make  me  mount  guard 
upon  the  arsenal  in  >iv  steel  back  and  breast,  plate-sleeves  and 

99 


OLD  MORTALITY  81 

head-piece_,  for  six  hours  at  once,  under  so  burning  a  sun  that 
gad  I  was  baked  like  a  turtle  at  Port  RoyaJ.  I  swore  never 
to  miss  answering  to  Francis  Stewart  again,  though  I  should 
leave  my  hand  of  cards  upon  the  drum-head.  Ah  T  discipline 
is  a  capital  thing." 

'^  In  other  respects  you  liked  the  service  ?"  said  Morton. 

^' Par  excellence"  said  Both  well  ;  ''women,  wine,  and 
wassail,  all  to  be  had  for  little  but  the  asking  ;  and  if  you  find 
it  in  your  conscience  to  let  a  fat  priest  think  he  has  some 
chance  to  convert  you,  gad  lie^'U  help  you  to  these  comforts 
himself,  just  to  gain  a  little  ground  in  your  good  affection. 
Where  will  you  find  a  crop-eared  Whig  parson  will  be  so 
civil?" 

''Why,  nowhere,  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Henry;  "but 
what  was  your  chief  duty  ?" 

"  To  guard  the  king's  person,"  said  Bothwell,  "  to  look 
after  the  safety  of  Louis  le  Grand,  my  boy,  and  now  and  then 
to  take  a  turn  among  the  Huguenots — Protestants,  that  is. 
And  there  we  had  fine  scope  ;  it  brought  my  hand  pretty  well 
in  for  the  service  in  this  country.  But,  come,  as  you  are  to 
be  a  hon  earner  ado,  as  the  Spaniards  say,  I  must  put  you  in 
cash  with  some  of  your  old  uncle's  broad-pieces.  This  is  cut- 
ter's law  :  we  must  not  see  a  pretty  fellow  want  if  we  have 
cash  ourselves." 

Thus  speaking,  he  pulled  out  his  purse,  took  out  some  of 
the  contents,  and  offered  them  to  Henry  without  counting 
them.  Young  Morton  declined  the  favor ;  and  not  judging 
it  prudent  to  acquaint  the  sergeant,  notwithstanding  his  ap- 
parent generosity,  that  he  was  actually  in  possession  of  some 
money,  he  assured  him  he  should  have  no  difficulty  in  getting 
a  supply  from  his  uncle. 

'*  Well,"  said  Bothwell,  "  in  that  case  these  yellow  rascals 
must  serve  to  ballast  my  purse  a  little  longer.  I  always  make 
it  a  rule  never  to  quit  the  tavern — unless  ordered  on  duty — 
while  my  purse  is  so  weighty  that  I  can  chuck  it  over  the 
sign-post.*  When  it  is  so  light  that  the  wind  blows  it  back, 
then,  boot  and  saddle,  we  must  fall  on  some  way  of  replen- 
ishing. But  what  tower  is  that  before  us,  rising  so  high  upon 
the  steep  bank  out  of  the  woods  that  surround  it  on  every 
side?" 

"  It  is  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem,"  said  one  of  the  sol- 
diers. "  Old  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  lives  there.  She's  one 
of  the  best  affected  women  m  the  country,  and  one  that's  a 
soldier's  friend.     When  I  was  hurt  by  one  of  the  d — d  Whig 

*  See  Throwing  the  Purse  over  the  Gate.    Note  14. 


82  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dogs  that  shot  at  me  from  behind  a  fauld-dike,  I  lay  a  month 
there,  and  would  stand  such  another  wound  to  be  in  as  good 
quarters  again," 

''  If  that  be  the  case/'  said  Bothwell,  '*  I  will  pay  my  re- 
spects to  her  as  we  pass,  and  request  some  refreshment  for 
men  and  horses  ;  I  am  as  thirsty  already  as  if  I  had  drunk 
nothing  at  Milnwood.  But  it  is  a  good  thing  in  these  times,'" 
he  continued,  addressing  himself  to  Henry,  **  that  the  King's 
soldier  cannot  pass  a  house  without  getting  a  refreshment. 

In  such  houses  as  Tillie what  d'ye  call  it  ?  you  are  served 

for  love ;  in  the  houses  of  the  avowed  fanatics  you  help  your- 
self by  force  ;  and  among  the  moderate  Presbyterians  and 
other  suspicious  persons  you  are  well  treated  from  fear  ;  so 
your  thirst  is  always  quenched  on  some  terms  or  other." 

^^  And  you  propose,"  said  Henry,  anxiously,  "to  go  upon 
that  errand  up  to  the  Tower  yonder  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  do,"  answered  Both  well.  "  How  should  I 
be  able  to  report  favorably  to  my  officers  of  the  worthy  lady's 
sound  principles  unless  I  know  the  taste  of  her  sack,  for  sack 
she  will  produce,  that  I  take  for  granted  ;  it  is  the  favorite 
consoler  of  your  old  dowager  of  quality,  as  small  claret  is  the 
potation  of  your  country  laird." 

"  Then,  for  Heaven'3  sake,"  said  Henry,"  if  you  are  deter- 
mined to  go  there,  do  not  mention  my  name,  or  expose  me  to 
a  family  that  I  am  acquainted  with.  Let  me  be  muffled  up 
for  the  time  in  one  of  your  soldier's  cloaks,  and  only  mention 
me  generally  as  a  prisoner  under  your  charge." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Both  well ;  "  I  promised  to  use 
you  civilly,  and  I  scorn  to  break  my  word.  Here,  Andrews, 
wrap  a  cloak  round  the  prisoner,  and  do  not  mention  his  name 
nor  where  we  caught  him,  unless  you  would  have  a  trot  on  a 
horse  of  wood."  * 

They  were  at  this  moment  at  an  arched  gateway,  battle- 
men  ted  and  flanked  with  turrets,  one  whereof  was  totallj 
ruinous,'  excepting  the  lower  story,  which  served  as  a  coW' 
house  to  the  peasant  whose  family  inliabited  the  turret  that 
remained  entire.  The  gate  had  been  broken  down  by  Monk's 
soldiers  during  the  Civil  War,  and  had  never  been  replaced, 
therefore  presented  no  obstacle  to  Bothwell  and  his  party. 
The  avenue,  very  steep  and  narrow,  and  causewayed  with 
large  round  stones,  ascended  the  side  of  the  precipitous  bank 
in  an  oblique  and  zigzag  course,  now  showing,  now  hiding, 
a  view  of  the  towe^r  and  its  exterior  bulwarks,  which  seemed 
to  rise  almost  perpendicularly  above  their  heads.     The  frag- 

♦  See  Wooden  Mam    Note  16. 


I 


OLD  MORTALITY  88 

ments  of  Gothic  defences  which  it  exhibited  were  upon  such, 
a  scale  of  strength  as  induced  Both  well  to  exclaim,  ""Its 
well  this  place  is  in  honest  and  loyal  hands.  Egad,  if  the 
enemy  had  it,  a  dozen  of  old  Whigamore  wives  with  their  dis- 
tafis  might  keep  it  against  a  troop  of  dragoons,  at  least  if  they 
had  half  the  spunk  of  the  old  girl  we  left  at  Milnwood.  Upon 
my  life,"  he  continued,  as  they  came  in  front  of  the  large 
double  tower  and  its  surrounding  defences  and  flankers,  "  it 
is  a  superb  place,  founded,  says  the  worn  inscription  over  the 
gate — unless  the  remnant  of  my  Latin  has  given  me  the  slip 
— by  Sir  Ralph  de  Bellenden  in  1350,  a  respectable  antiquity. 
I  must  greet  the  old  lady  with  due  honor,  thougli  it  sKould 
put  me  to  the  labor  of  recalling  some  of  the  compliments  that 
I  used  to  dabble  in  when  I  was  wont  to  keep  that  sort  of  com- 
pany/' 

As  he  thus  communed  with  himself,  the  butler,  who  had 
reconnoitred  the  soldiers  from  an  arrow- slit  in  the  wall,  an- 
nounced to  his  lady  that  a  commanded  party  of  dragoons,  or, 
as  he  thought.  Life  Guardsmen,  waited  at  the  gate  with  a 
prisoner  under  their  charge. 

''I  am  certain,'^  said  Gudyill,  "  and  positive,  that  the  sixth 
man  is  a  prisoner  ;  for  his  horse  is  led,  and  the  two  dragoons 
that  are  before  have  their  carabines  out  of  their  budgets,  and 
rested  upon  their  thighs.  It  was  aye  the  way  we  guarded  pris- 
oners in  the  days  of  the  Great  Marquis. '^ 

*' King's  soldiers  \"  said  the  lady  ;  ''^ probably  in  want  of 
refreshment.  Go,  Gudyill,  make  them  welcome,  and  let  them 
be  accommodated  with  what  provision  and  forage  the  Tower 
can  afford.  And  stay,  tell  my  gentlewoman  to  bring  my  black 
scarf  and  manteau.  I  will  go  down  myself  to  receive  them  ; 
one  cannot  show  the  King's  Life  Guards  too  much  respect  in 
times  when  they  are  doing  so  much  for  royal  authority.  And 
d'ye  hear,  Gudyill,  let  Jenny  Dennison  slip  on  her  pearlings 
to  walk  before  my  niece  and  me,  and  the  three  women  to  walk 
behind  ;  and  bid  my  niece  attend  me  instantly." 

Fully  accoutred,  and  attended  according  to  her  directions. 
Lady  Margaret  now  sailed  out  into  the  courtyard  of  her  tower 
with  great  courtesy  and  dignity.  Sergeant  Both  well  saluted 
the  grave  and  reverend  lady  of  the  manor  with  an  assurance 
which  had  something  of  the  light  and  careless  address  of  the 
dissipated  men  of  fashion  in  Charles  the  Second's  time,  and 
did  not  at  all  savor  of  the  awkward  or  rude  manners  of  a  non- 
commissioned officer  of  dragoons.  His  language,  as  well  as 
his  manners,  seemed  also  to  be  refined  for  the  time  and  occasion; 
though  the  truth  was  that,  in  the  fluctuations  of  an  adventurous 


84  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  profligate  life,  LB£iiili:^ell  had  sometimes  kept  company 
much  better  suited  to  his  ancestry  than  to  his  present  situation 
of  life.  To  the  lady's  request  to  know  whether  she  could  be 
of  service  to  them  he  answered,  with  a  suitable  bow,  ''That 
as  they  had  to  march  some  miles  farther  that  night,  they  would 
be  much  accommodated  by  permission  to  rest  their  horses  for 
an  hour  before  continuing  their  journey." 

*'  With  the  greatest  pleasure,^'  answered  Lady  Margaret ; 
"and  I  trust  that  my  people  will  see  that  neither  horse  nor 
men  want  suitable  refresh ment.^' 

''We  are  well  aware,  madam,'' continued  Bothwell,  "that 
such  has  always  been  the  reception,  within  the  walls  of  Tillie- 
tudlem,  of  those  who  served  the  king." 

"  We  have  studied  to  discharge  our  duty  faithfully'^and 
loyally  on  all  occasions,  sir,"  answered  Lady  Margaret,  pleased 
with  the  compliment,  "  both  to  our  monarchs  and  to  their 
followers,  particularly  to  their  faithful  soldiers.  It  is  not 
long  ago,  and  it  probably  has  not  escaped  the  recollection  of 
his  sacred  Majesty  now  on  the  throne,  since  he  himself  hon- 
ored my  poor  house  with  his  presence,  and  breakfasted  in  a 
room  in  this  castle,  Mr.  Sergeant,  which  my  waiting-gentle- 
woman shall  show  you  ;  we  still  call  it  the  King's  room." 

Bothwell  had  by  this  time  dismounted  his  party  and  com- 
mitted the  horses  to  the  charge  of  one  file  and  the  prisoner 
to  that  of  another  ;  so  that  he  himself  was  at  liberty  to  con- 
tinue the  conversation  which  the  lady  had  so  condescendingly 
opened. 

"  Since  the  King,  my  master,  had  the  honor  to  experience 
your  hospitality,  I  cannot  wonder  that  it  is  extended  to  those 
that  serve  him,  and  whose  principal  merit  is  doing  it  with 
fidelity.  And  yet  I  have  a  nearer  relation  to  his  Majesty  than 
this  coarse  red  coat  would  seem  to  indicate." 

"  Indeed,  sir  ?  Probably,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "  you  have 
belonged  to  his  household  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,  madam,  to  his  household,  but  rather  to  his 
house  ;  a  connection  through  which  I  may  claim  kindred  with 
most  of  the  best  families  in  Scotland,  not,  I  believe,  exclusive 
of  that  of  Tillietudlem." 
^  "  Sir  ! "  said  the  old  lady,  drawing  herself  up  with  dignity 
at  hearing  what  she  conceived  an  impertinent  jest,  "  I,  do  not 
understand  you." 

"  It's  but  a  foolish  subject  for  one  in  my  situation  to  talk 
of,  madam,"  answered  the  trooper ;  "  but  you  must  have 
heard  of  the  history  and  misfortunes  of  my  grandfather 
Francia  Stewart,  to  whom  James  I.,  his  cousin-german,  gave 


OLD  MORTALITY  » 

the  title  of  Both  well,  as  my  comrades  give  me  the  nickname. 
It  was  not  in  the  long-run  more  advantageous  to  him  than  it 
is  to  me." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Lady  Margaret,  with  much  sympathy  and 
surprise.  "  I  have  indeed  always  understood  that  the  grand- 
son of  the  last  earl  was  in  necessitous  circumstances,  but  I 
should  never  have  expected  to  see  him  so  low  in  the  service. 
With  such  connections,  what  ill  fortune  could  have  reduced 

you " 

^'  Nothing  much  out  of  the  ordinary  course,  I  believe, 
madam,"  said  Bothwell,  interrupting  and  anticipating  the 
question.  *^  I  have  had  my  moments  of  good  luck  like  my 
neighbors,  have  drunk  my  bottle  with  Eochester,  thrown  a 
merry  main  with  Buckingham,  and  fought  at  Tangiers  side 
by  side  with  Sheffield.  But  my  luck  never  lasted  ;  I  could 
not  make  useful  friends  out  of  my  jolly  companions.  Per- 
haps I  was  not  sufficiently  aware,"  he  continued,  with  some 
bitterness,  '*'how  much  the  descendant  of  the  Scottish  Stew- 
arts was  honored  by  being  admitted  into  the  convivialities  of 
Wilmot  and  Villiers." 

"  But  your  Scottish  friends,  Mr.  Stewart,  your  relations 
here,  so  numerous  and  so  powerful  ?" 

"  Why,  ay,  my  lady,"  reiDlied  the  sergeant,  ''  I  believe 
some  of  them  might  have  made  me  their  gamekeeper,  for  I 
am  a  tolerable  shot ;  some  of  them  would  have  entertained 
me  as  their  bravo,  for  I  can  use  my  sword  well  ;  and  here  and 
there  was  one  who,  when  better  company  was  not  to  be  had, 
would  have  made  me  his  companion,  since  I  can  drink  my 
three  bottles  of  wine.  But  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  between 
service  and  service  among  my  kinsmen,  I  prefer  that  of  my 
cousin  Charles  as  the  mbst  creditable  of  them  all,  although 
the  pay  is  but  poor  and  the  livery  far  from-  splendid." 

*'  It  is  a  shame,  it  is  a  burning  scandal !  "  said  Lady  Mar- 
garet. **  Why  do  you  not  apply  to  his  most  sacred  Majesty  r 
fie  cannot  but  be  surprised  to  hear  that  a  scion  of  his  august 

family " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  interrupted  the  sergeant, 
**  I  am  but  a  blunt  soldier,  and  I  trust  you  will  excuse  me 
when  I  say,  his  most  sacred  Majesty  is  more  busy  in  grafting 
scions  of  his  own  than  with  nourishing  those  which  were 
planted  by  his  grandfather's  grandfather." 

"Well,  Mr.  Stewart,'*  said  Lady  Margaret,  "one  thing 
you  must  promise  me,  remain  at  Tillietudlem  to-night ;  to- 
morrow I  expect  your  commanding  officer,  the  gallant  Claver- 
house,  to  whom  king  and  country  are  so  much  obliged  for  his 


l^ 


8«  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

exertions  against  those  who  would  turn  the  world  upside  down. 
I  will  speak  to  him  on  the  subject  of  your  speedy  promotion  ; 
and  I  am  certain  he  feels  too  much  both  what  is  due  to  the 
blood  which  is  in  your  veins,  and  to  the  request  of  a  lady  so 
highly  distinguished  as  myself  by  his  most  sacred  Majesty, 
not  to  make  better  provision  for  you  than  you  have  yet  re- 
ceived." 

•'I  am  much  obliged  to  your  ladyship,  and  I  certainly  will 
remain  here  with  my  prisoner  since  you  request  it,  especially 
as  it  will  be  the  earliest  way  of  presenting  him  to  Colonel 
Grahame  ^nd  obtaining  his  ultimate  orders  about  the  young 
spark.'' 

-'  Who  is  your  prisoner,  pray  you  ?  "  said  Lady  Margaret. 

•'A  young  fellow  of  rather  the  better  class  in  this  neigh- 
borhood, who  has  been  so  incautious  as  to  give  countenance 
to  one  of  the  murderers  of  the  primate,  and  to  facilitate  the 
dog's  escape." 

"  0,  fie  upon  him  I"  said  Lady  Margaret ;  "I  am  but  too 
apt  to  forgive  the  injuries  I  have  received  at  the  hands  of  these 
rogues,  though  some  of  them,  Mr.  Stewart,  are  of  a  kind  not 
like  to  be  forgotten  ;  but  those  who  would  abet  the  perpetrators 
of  so  cruel  and  deliberate  a  homicide  on  a  single  man,  an  old 
man,  and  a  man  of  the  Archbishop's  sacred  prof  ession-^0,  fie 
upon  hfm  !  If  you  wish  to  make  him  secure  with  little  trouble 
to  your  people,  I  will  cause  Harrison  or  Gudyill  look  for  the 
key  of  our  pit,  or  principal  dungeon.  It  has  not  been  open 
since  the  week  after  the  victory  of  Kilsyth,  when  my  poor  Sir 
Arthur  Bellenden  put  twenty  Whigs  into  it ;  but  it  is  not 
more  than  two  stories  beneath  ground,  so  it  cannot  be  un- 
wholesome, especially  as  I  rather  believe  there  is  somewhere 
an  opening  to  the  outer  air." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madam,"  answered  the  sergeant ;  "I 
dare  say  the  dungeon  is  a  most  admirable  one ;  but  I  have 
promised  to  be  civil  to  the  lad,  and  I  will  take  care  he  is 
watched  so  as  to  render  escape  impossible.  I'll  set  those  to 
look  after  him  shall  keep  him  as  fast  as  if  his  legs  were  in  the 
boots,  or  his  fingers  in  the  thumbikins." 

*'  Well,  Mr,  Stewart,"  rejoined  the  lady,  "  you  best  know 
your  own  duty.  "T'heartily  wish  you  good  evening,  and  com- 
mit you  to  the  care  of  my  steward,  Harrison.  I  would  ask 
you  to  keep  ourselves  company,  but  a — a — a " 

"  0,  madam,  it  requires  no  apology ;  I  am  sensible  the 
coarse  red  coat  of  King  Charles  II.  does  and  ought  to  annihi- 
late the  privileges  of  the  red  blood  of  King  James  V." 

*'  Not  with  me,  I  do  assure  you,  Mr.  Stewart ;  you  do  mo 


OLD  MORTALITY  87 

injustice  if  you  think  so.  I  will  speak  to  your  officer  to-mor- 
row ;  and  I  trust  you  shall  soon  find  yourself  in  a  rank  where 
there  shall  be  no  anomalies  to  be  reconciled/' 

"I  believe,  madam,"  said  Both  well,  *^'your  goodness  will 
find  itself  deceived  ;  but  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  inten- 
tion, and,  at  all  events,  I  will  have  a  merry  night  with  Mr. 
Harrison/' 

Lady  Margaret  took  a  ceremonious  leave,  with  all  the  re- 
spect which  she  owed  to  royal  blood,  even  when  flowing  iil  the 
veius  of  a  sergeant  of  the  Life  Guards,  again  assuring  Mr. 
Stewart  that  whatever  was  in  the  Tower  of  Tillietudleni  was 
heartily  at  his  service  and  that  of  his  attendants. 

Sergeant  Bothwell  did  not  fail  to  take  the  lady  at  her  word, 
and  readily  forgot  the  height  from  which  hi's  family  "had  de- 
scended in  a  joyous  carousal,  during  which  Mr.  Harrison 
exerted  himself  to  produce  the  best  wine  in  the  cellar,  and  to 
excite  his  guest  to  be  merry  by  that  seducing  example  which, 
in  matters  of  conviviality,  goes  further  than  precept.  Old 
Gudy ill. associated  himself  with  a  party  so  much  to  his  tt^ste, 
pretty  much  as  DaYy^inJlie  Second  Part  GiRenry^ili&EQurth, 
mingles  in  tlie  revels  of  his  master,  Justice  Shallow.  He  ran 
down  to  the  cellar  at  the  risk  of  breaking  his  neck  to  ransack 
some  private  catacomb  known,  as  he  boasted,  only  to  himself, 
and  which  never  either  had  or  should,  during  his  superintend- 
ence, render  forth  a  bottle  of  its  contents  to  any  one  but  a  real 
king's  friend. 

*^  When  the  Duke  dined  here,"  said  the  butler,  seating  him- 
self at  a  distance  from  the  table,  being  somewhat^yerawed  by 
Bothwell's  genealogy,  but  yet  hitchingliis  seat  half  a  yard  nearer 
at  every  clause  of  his  speech,  '*  my  leddy  was  importunate  to 
have  a  bottle  of  that  Burgundy  [here  he  advanced  his  seat  a 
little]  ;  but  I  dinna  ken  how  it  was,  Mr.  Stewart,  I  misdoubted 
him.  I  jaloused  him,  sir,  no  to  be  the  friend  to  government 
he  pretends  :  the  family  are  not  to  lippen  to.  That  auld  Duke 
James  lost  his  heart  before  he  lost  his  head ;  and  the  Worcester 
man  was  but  wersh  parritch,  neither  gude  to  fry,  boil,  nor  sup 
cauld."  With  this  witty  observation,  he  completed  his  first 
parallel,  and  commenced  a  zigzag  after  the  manner  of  an  ex- 
perienced engineer,  in  order  to  continue  his  approaches  to  the 
table.  ^^  Sae,  sir,  the  faster  my  leddy  cried,  ^  Burgundy  to  his 
Grace — the  auld  Burgundy — the  choice  Burgundy — the  Bur- 
gundy that  came  ower  in  the  thirty-nine,'  the  mair  did  I  say 
to  mysell,  '  Deil  a  drap  gangs  down  his  hause  unless  I  was  mair 
sensible  o'  his  principles  :  sack  and  claret  may  serve  him.'  Na, 
na,  gentlemen,  as  lang  as  I  hae  the  trust  o'  butler  in  this  house 


88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

o'  Tillietudlem,  1^11  tak  it  upon  me  to  see  that  nae  disloyal  oi 
doubtfu'  person  is  the  better  o'  our  binns.  But  when  I  can 
find  a  true  friend  to  the  king  and  his  cause,  and  a  moderate 
episcopacy  ;  when  I  find  a  man,  as  I  say,  that  will  stand  by 
Churcli  and  Crown  as  I  did  mysell  in  my  master^s  life,  and  all 
through  Montrose's  time,  I  think  there's  naething  in  the  cel- 
lar ower  gude  to  be  spared  on  him/' 

By  this  tims  he  had  completed  a  lodgement  in  the  body  of 
the  place,  or,  in  other  words,  advanced  his  seat  close  to  the 
table. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Francis  Stewart  of  Bothwell,  I  have  the 
honor  to  drink  your  gude  health  and  a  commission  t'y^  and 
much  luck  may  ye  have  in  raking  this  country  clear  o'  Whigs 
and  Roundheads,  fanatics  and  Covenanters. '' 

Bd^well,  who,  it  may  well  be  believed,  had  long  ceased  to 
be  very  scrupulous  in  point  of  society,  which  he  regulated  more 
by  his  convenience  and  station  in  life  than  his  ancestry, 
readily  answered  the  butler's  pledge,  acknowledging,  at  the 
same  time,  the  excellence  of  the  wine ;  and  Mr.  Gudyill,  thus 
adopted  a  regular  member  of  the  company,  continued  to  fur- 
nish them  with  the  means  of  mirth  until  an  early  hour  in  the 
next  morning. 


CHAPTER  X 

'     Did  I  but  purpose  to  embark  with  thee 
On  the  smootn  surface  of  a  summer  sea, 
And  would  forsake  the  skiff  and  make  the  shore 
When  the  winds  whistle  and  the  tempests  roar  ? 

Prior. 

y 

While  Lady  Margaret  held,  with  the  high-descended  sergeant 
of  dragooxis,  the  conference  which  we  have  detailed  in  the 
preceding  pages,  her  granddaughter,  partaking  in  a  less  de- 
gree her  ladyship^s  enthusiasm  for  all  who  were  sprung  of  the 
blood  royal,  did  not  honor  Sergeant  Bothwell  with  more  atten- 
tion than  a  single  glance,  which  showed  her  a  tall  powerful 
person  and  a  set  of  hardy  weather-beaten  features,  fo  Which 
pride  and  dissipation  had  given  an  air  where  discontent  min- 
gled with  the  reckless  gayety  of  desperation.  The  other 
soldiers  offered  still  less  to  detach  her  consideration  ;  but  from 
the  prisoner,  muffled  and  disguised  as  he  was,  she  found  it 
impossible  to  withdraw  her  eyes.  Yet  she  blamed  herself  for 
Indulging  a  curiosity  which  seemed  obviously  to  give  pain  to 
him  who  was  its  object. 

"  I  wish,"  she  said  to  Jenny  Dennison,  who  was  the  im- 
mediate attendant  on  her  person — "  I  wish  we  knew  who  that 
poor  fellow  is." 

''  I  was  just  thinking  sae  mysell.  Miss  Edith,"  said  the 
Waiting  woman  ;  "but  it  canna  be  Cuddie Headrigg,  because 
he's  taller  and  no  sae  stout." 

"Yet,"  continued  Miss  Bellenden,  "  it  may  be  some  poor 
neighbor  for  whom  we  might  have  cause  to  interest  ourselves." 

"  I  can  sune  learn  wha  he  is,"  said  the  enterprising  Jenny, 
"  if  the  sodgers  were  anes  settled  and  at  leisure,  for  I  ken  ane 
o'  them  very  weel — the  best-looking  and  the  youngest  o'  them." 

"  I  think  you  know  all  the  idle  young  fellows  about  the 
country,"  answered  her  mistress. 

"  Na,  Miss  Edith,  I  am  no  sae  free  o'  my  acquaintance  as 
that,"  answered  the  fille-de-chambre.  "  To  be  sure,  folk  canna 
help  kenning  the  folk  by  head-mark  that  they  see  aye  glow- 
ring  and  looking  at  them  at  kirk  and  market ;  but  I  ken  few 
lads  to  speak  to  unless  it  be  them  o''  the  family,  and  the  three 


90  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

Steinsons,  and  Tarn  Rand,  and  the  young  miller,  and  the  five 
Howisons  in  Nethersheils,  and  lang  Tarn  Gilry,  and " 

"  Pray  cut  short  a  list  of  exceptions  which  threatens  to  be 
a  long  one,  and  tell  me  how  you  come  to  know  this  young 
soldier,"  said  Miss  Bellenden. 

""      "  Lord,  Miss  Edith,  it's  Tarn  Halliday,  Trooper  Tam,  as 
'  they  ca'  him,  that  was  wounded  by  the  hill-folk  at  the  con- 
venticle at  Outerside  Muir,  and  lay  here  while  he  was  under 
cure.     I  can  ask  him  ony thing,  and  Tam  will  no  refuse  to 
answer  me,  I'll  be  caution  for  him." 

"  Try,  then,"  said  Miss  Edith,  ^'  if  you  can  find  an  oppor- 
tunity to  ask  him  the  name  of  his  prisoner,  and  come  to  my 
room  and  tell  me  what  he  says." 

Jenny  Dennison  proceeded  on  her  errand,  but  soon  returned 
with  such  a  face  of  surprise  and  dismay  as  evinced  a  deep  in- 
terest in  the  fate  of  the  prisoner. 

*' What  is  the  matter  ?"  said  Edith,  anxiously ;  *'  does  it 
prove  to  be  Cuddie,  after  all,  poor  fellow  ?" 

"  Cuddie,  Miss  Edith  !  Na  !  na  !  it's  nae  Cuddie,"  blub- 
bered out  the  faithful  fiUe-de-chambre,  sensible  of  the  pain 
which  her  news  were  about  to  inflict  on  her  young  mistress. 
*'  0  dear.  Miss  Edith,  it's  young  Milnwood  himsell !  " 

"•  Young  Milnwood  !"  exclaimed  Edith,  aghast  in  her  turn; 
"  it  is  i!npo33ible — totally  impossible  !  His  uncle  attends  the 
clergyman  indulged  by  law,  and  has  no  connection  whatever 
with  the  refractory  people  ;  and  he  himself  has  never  inter- 
fered in  this  unhappy  dissension.  He  must  be  totally  inno- 
cent, unless  he  has  been  standing  up  for  some  invaded  right." 
/^  *^  0,  my  dear  Miss  Edith,"  said  her  attendant, ''  these  are 
Ijiot  days  to  ask  what's  right  or  what's  wrang  ;  if  he  were  as 
innocent  as  the  new-born  infant,  they  would  find  some  way 
of  making  him  guilty  if  they  liked  ;  but  Tam  Halliday  says  it 
will  touch  his  life,  for  he  has  been  resetting  ane  o'  the  Fife 
gentlemen  that  killed  that  auld  carle  of  an  archbishop." 

''  His  life  ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  starting  hastily  up,  and 
speaking  with  a  hurried  and  tremulous  accent ;  "  they  can- 
not, they  shall  not ;  I  will  speak  for  him  ;  they  shall  not  hurt 
him  !" 

"0,  my  dear  young  leddy,  think  on  your  grandmother  ; 
think  on  the  danger  and  the  difficulty,"  added  Jenny  ;  "for 
he's  kept  under  close  confinement  till  Claverhouse  comes  up 
in  the  morning,  and  if  he  doesna  gie  him  full  satisfaction, 
Tam  Halliday  says  there  will  be  brief  wark  wi'  him.  Kneel 
down — mak  ready — ^present — fire — ^just  as  they  did  wi'  auld 


OLD   MORTALITY  91 

deaf  John  MaclDriar  that  never  understood  a  single  question 
they  pat  till  him,  and  sae  lost  his  life  for  lack  o^  hearing/' 

"  Jenny,"  said  the  young  lady,  ''if  he  should  die  I  will 
die  with  him.  There  is  no  time  to  talk  of  danger  or  diffi- 
culty ;  I  will  put  on  a  plaid  and  slip  down  with  you  to  the 
place  where  they  have  kept  him  ;  I  will  throw  myself  at  the 
feet  of  the  sentinel  and  entreat  him,  as  he  has  a  soul  to  be 
saved " 

"  Eh,  guide  us ! "  interrupted  the  maid,  *'  our  young  leddy 
at  the  feet  o'  Trooper  Tam,  and  speaking  to  him  about  his 
soul,  when  the  puir  chield  hardly  kens  whether  he  has  ane  or 
no,  unless  that  he  whiles  swears  by  it !  That  will  never  do  ; 
but  what  maun  be  maun  be,  and  I'll  never  desert  a  true-love 
cause.  And  sae  if  ye  maun  see  young  Milnwood,  though  I 
ken  nae  gude  it  will  do  but  to  make  baith  your  hearts  the 
sairer,  Fll  e'en  tak  the  risk  o't,  and  try  to  manage  Tam  Halli- 
day.  But  ye  maun  let  me  hae  my  ain  gate  and  no  speak  ae 
word  ;  he's  keeping  guard  o'er  Milnwood  in  the  easter  round 
of  the  Tower." 

"  (xo,  go,  fetch  me  a  plaid,"  said  Edith.  *'  Let  me  but 
see  him,  and  I  will  find  some  remedy  for  his  danger.  Haste 
ye,  Jenny,  as  ever  ye  hope  to  have  good  at  my  hands." 

Jenny  hastened,  and  soon  returned  with  a  plaid,  in  which 
Edith  muffled  herself  so  as  completely  to  screen  her  face,  and 
in  part  to  disguise  her  person.  This  was  a  mode  of  arrang- 
ing the  plaid  very  common  among  the  ladies  of  that  century 
and  the  earlier  part  of  the  succeeding  one  ;  so  much  so,  indeed, 
that  the  venerable  sages  of  the  Kirk,  conceiving  that  the  mode 
gave  tempting  facilities  for  intrigue,  directed  more  than  one 
act  of  Assembly  against  this  use  of  the  mantle.  But  fashion, 
as  usual,  proved  too  strong  for  authority,  and  while  plaids 
continued  to  be  worn,  women  of  all  ranks  occasionally  em- 
ployed them  as  a  sort  of  muffler  or  veil.*  Her  face  and 
figure  thus  concealed,  Edith,  holding  by  her  attendant's  arm, 
hastened  with  trembling  steps  to  the  place  of  Morton's  con- 
finement. 

This  was  a  small  study  or  closet  in  one  of  the  turrets, 
opening  upon  a  gallery  in  which  the  sentinel  was  pacing  to 
and  fro  ;  for  Sergeant  Bothwell,  scrupulous  in  observing  his 
word,  and  perhaps  touched  with  some  compassion  for  the 
prisoner's  youth  and  genteel  demeanor,  had  waived  the  in- 
dignity of  putting  his  guard  into  the  same  apartment  with 
him.  Halliday,  therefore,  with  his  carabine  on  his  arm, 
walked  up  and  down  the  gallery,  occasionally  solacing  him- 

♦  See  Concealing  the  Face.    Note  16, 


92  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Belf  with  a  draught  of  ale,  a  huge  flagon  of  which  stood  upon 
the  table  at  one  end  of  the  apartment,  and  at  other  times 
humming  the  lively  Scottish  air — 

**  Between  Saint  Johnstone  and  Bonny  Dundee, 
I'll  gar  ye  be  fain  to  follow  me." 

Jenny  Dennison  cautioned  her  mistress  once  more  to  let 
her  take  her  own  way. 

*'  I  can  manage  the  trooper  weel  eneugh,^'  she  said,  ^*  for 
as  rough  as  he  is  ;  I  ken  their  nature  weel ;  but  ye  maunna 
say  a  single  word."" 

She  accordingly  opened  the  door  of  the  gallery  just  as  the 
sentinel  had  turned  his  back  from  it,  and  taking  up  the  tune 
which  he  hummed,  she  sung  in  a  coquettish  tone  of  rustic 
raillery — 

"  If  I  were  to  follow  a  poor  sodger  lad, 
My  friends  wad  be  angry,  my  minnie  be  mad  ; 
A  laird,  or  a  lord,  they  were  fitter  for  me, 
Sae  I'll  never  be  fain  to  follow  thee. " 

"  A  fair  challenge,  by  Jove,"  cried  the  sentinel,  turning 
round,  ^'  and  from  two  at  once.  But  it's  not  easy  to  bang  the 
soldier  with  his  bandoleers  ;  "  then  taking  up  the  song  where 
the  damsel  had  stopped — 

"  To  follow  me  ye  weel  may  be  glad, 
A  share  of  my  supper,  a  share  of  my  bed. 
To  the  sound  of  the  drum  to  range  fearless  and  free, 
I'll  gar  ye  be  fain  to  follow  me. 

Come,  my  pretty  lass,  and  kiss  me  for  my  song."' 

'*  I  should  not  have  thought  of  that,  Mr.  Halliday,""  an- 
swered Jenny,  with  a  look  and  tone  expressing  just  the  neces- 
sary degree  of  contempt  at  the  proposal,  * '  and  I"se  assure  ye, 
yell  hae  but  little  o"  my  company  unless  ye  show  gentler 
havings.  It  wasna  to  hear  that  sort  o'  nonsense  that  brought 
me  here  wi"  my  friend,  and  ye  should  think  shame  o"  yoursell, 
'at  should  ye."" 

''  Umph  !  and  what  sort  of  nonsense  did  bring  you  here, 
then,  Mrs.  Dennison  ? "" 

"  My  kinswoman  has  some  particular  business  with  your 
prisoner,  young  Mr.  Harry  Morton,  and  I  am  come  wi'  her  to 
speak  till  him.°" 

*'  The  devil  you  are  ! "  answered  the  sentinel ;  "  and  pray, 
Mrs.  Dennison,  how  do  your  kinswoman  and  you  propose  to 


OLD  MORTALITY  93 

get  in  ?  You  are  rather  too  plump  to  whisk  through  a  key- 
hole, and  opening  the  door  is  a  thing  not  to  be  spoke  of/" 

"It^s  no  a  thing  to  be  spoken  o',  but  a  thing  to  be  dune/' 
replied  the  persevering  damsel. 

'^  We'll  see  about  that,  my  bonny  Jenny  ; "  and  the  soldier 
resumed  his  march,  humming  as  he  walked  to  and  fro  along 
the  gallery — 

**  Keek  into  the  draw-well, 
Janet,  Janet, 
Then  ye'll  see  your  bonny  sell, 
My  jo  Janet." 

''  So  ye're  no  thinking  to  let  us  in,  Mr.  Halliday  ?  Weel, 
weel ;  gude  e'en  to  you  ;  ye  hae  seen  the  last  o'  me,  and  o'  this 
bonny  die  too,''  said  Jenny,  holding  between  her  finger  and 
thumb  a  splendid  silver  dollar. 

"  Give  him  gold,  give  him  gold,"  whispered  the  agitated 
young  lady. 

'*  Silver's  e'en  ower  gude  for  the  like  o'  him,"  replied 
Jenny,  '^  that  disna  care  for  the  blink  o'  a  bonny  lassie's  ee  ; 
and  what's  waur,  he  wad  think  there  was  something  mair  in't 
than  a  kinswoman  o'  mine.  My  certy  !  siller's  no  sae  plenty 
wi'  us,  let  alane  gowd."  Having  addressed  this  advice  aside 
to  her  mistress,  she  raised  her  voice,  and  said,  "  My  cousin 
winna  stay  ony  langer,  Mr.  Halliday  ;  sae,  if  ye  please,  gude 
e'en  t'ye." 

"  Halt  a  bit — halt  a  bit,"  said  the  trooper  ;  **  rein  up  and 
parley,  Jenny.  If  I  let  your  kinswoman  in  to  speak  to  my 
jsrisoner,  you  must  stay  here  and  keep  me  company  till  she 
come  out  again,  and  then  we'll  all  be  well  pleased,  you  know." 

"The  fiend  be  in  my  feet,  then,"  said  Jenny;  *M'ye 
think  my  kinswoman  and  me  are  gaun  to  lose  our  gude  name 
wi'  cracking  clavers  wi'  the  like  o'  you  or  your  prisoner  either, 
without  somebody  by  to  see  fair  play  ?  Hegh,  hegh,  sirs,  to 
see  sic  a  difference  between  folks'  promises  and  performance  ! 
Ye  were  aye  willing  to  slight  puir  Cuddie  ;  but  an  I  had 
asked  him  to  oblige  me  in  a  thing,  though  it  had  been  to  cost 
his  hanging,  he  wadna  hae  stude  twice  about  it." 

"  D — n  Cuddie  !  "  retorted  the  dragoon,  "  he'll  be  hanged 
in  good  earnest,  I  hope.     I  saw  him  to-day  at  Milnwood  with 

his  old  Puritanical  b- of  a  mother,  and  if  I  had  thought  I 

was  to  have  had  him  cast  in  my  dish,  I  would  have  brought 
him  up  at  my  horse's  tail  ;  we  had  law  enough  to  bear  us  out." 

*'  Very  weel — very  weel.  See  if  Cuddie  winna  hae  a  lang 
shot  at  you  ane  o'  thae  days^  if  ye  gar  him  tak  the  muir  wr 


94  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sae  many  honest  folk.  He  can  hit  a  mark  brawly ;  he  was 
third  at  the  popinjay  ;  and  he's  as  true  of  his  promise  as  of  ee 
and  hand,  though  he  disna  mak  sic  a  phrase  about  it  as  some 
acquaintance  o'  yours.  But  it's  a'  ane  to  me.  Come,  cousin, 
we'll  awa'." 

"  Stay,  Jenny ;  d — n  me  if  I  hang  fire  more  than  another 
when  I  have  said  a  thing,"  said  the  soldier,  in  a  hesitating 
tone.     '''Where  is  the  sergeant  ?" 

"Drinking  and  driving  ower,"  quoth  Jenny,  '^wi'  the 
steward  and  John  Gudyill." 

'•  So,  so,  he's  safe  enough ;  and  where  are  my  comrades  ?  " 
asked  Halliday. 

"  Birling  the  brown  bowl  wi'  the  fowler  and  the  falconer 
and  some  o'  the  serving  folk." 

"  Have  they  plenty  of  ale  ?" 

"  Sax  gallons  as  gude  as  e'er  was  masked,"  said  the  maid. 

"  Well,  then,  my  pretty  Jenny,"  said  the  relenting  senti- 
nel, "  they  are  fast  till  the  hour  of  relieving  guard,  and  per- 
haps something  later  ;  and  so  if  you  will  promise  to  come 
alone  the  next  time-— — " 

'•Maybe  I  will  and  maybe  I  winna,"  said  Jenny ;  ''but  if 
ye  get  the  dollar,  ye'll  like  that  just  as  weel." 

"I'll  be  d — d  if  I  do,"  said  Halliday,  taking  the  money, 
however;  "but  it's  always  something  for  my  risk,  for  if 
Claverhouse  hears  what  I  have  done  he  will  build  me  a  horse 
as  high  as  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem.  But  every-  one  in  the 
regiment  takes  what  they  can  come  by ;  I  am  sure  Both  well 
and  his  blood  royal  shows  us  a  good  example.  And  if  I  were 
trustiag  to  you,  you  little  jilting  devil,  I  should  lose  both  pains 
and  powder  ;  whereas  this  fellow," looking  at  the  piece,  "will 
be  .good  as  far  as  he  goes.  So,  come,  there  is  the  door  open  for 
you  ;  do  not  stay  groaning  and  praying  with  the  young  Whig 
now,  but  be  ready,  when  I  call  at  the  door,  to  start  as  if  they 
were  sounding  '  Horse  and  away.'" 

So  speaking,  Halliday  unlocked  the  door  of  the  closet,  ad- 
mitted Jenny  and  her  pretended  kinswoman,  locked  it  behind 
them,  and  hastily  reassumed  the  indifferent  measured  step  and 
time-killing  whistle  of  a  sentinel  upon  his  regular  duty. 

The  door,  which  slowly  opened,  discovered  Morton  with 
both  arms  reclined  upon  a  table,  and  his  head  resting  upon 
them  in  a  posture  of  deep  dejection.  He  raised  his  face  as  the 
door  opened,  and  perceiving  the  female  figures  which  it  ad- 
mitted, started  up  in  great  surprise.  Edith,  as  if  modesty 
had  quelled  the  courage  which  despair  had  bestowed,  stood 
about  a  yard  from  the  door  without  having  either  the  powei 


OLD  MORTALITY  95 

to  speak  or  to  advance.  All  the  plans  of  aid,  relief,  or  comfort 
which  she  had  proposed  to  lay  before  her  lover  seemed  at  once 
to  have  vanished  from  her  recollection,  and  left  only  a  painful 
chaos  of  ideas,  with  which  was  mingled  a  fear  that  she  had 
degraded  herself  in  the  eyes  of  Morton  by  a  step  which  might 
appear  precipitate  and  unfeminine.  She  hung  motionless  and 
almost  powerless  upon  the  arm  of  her  attendant,  who  in  vain 
endeavored  to  reassure  and  inspire  her  with  courage  by  whisper- 
ing, ^'  We  are  in  now,  madam,  and  we  maun  mak  the  best  o' 
our  time  ;  for  doubtless  the  corporal  or  the  sergeant  will  gang 
the  rounds,  and  it  wad  be  a  pity  to  hae  the  poor  lad  Halliday 
punished  for  his  civility." 

Morton  in  the  meantime  was  timidly  advancing,  suspecting 
the  truth  ;  for  what  other  female  in  the  house  excepting  Edith 
herself  was  likely  to  take  an  interest  in  his  misfortunes  ?  and 
yet  afraid,  owing  to  the  doubtful  twilight  and  the  muffled 
dress,  of  making  some  mistake  which  might  be  prejudicial  to 
the  object  of  his  affections. 

Jenny,  whose  ready  wit  and  forward  manners  well  quali- 
fied her  for  such  an  office,  hastened  to  break  the  ice.  **  Mr. 
Morton,  Miss  Edith's  very  sorry  for  your  present  situation, 
and " 

It  was  needless  to  say  more ;  he  was  at  her  side,  almost  at 
her  feet,  pressing  her  unresisting  hands  and  loading  her  with 
a  profusion  of  thanks  and  gratitude  which  would  be  hardly 
intelligible  from  the  mere  broken  words,  unless  we  could  de- 
scribe the  tone,  the  gesture,  the  impassioned  and  hurried  in- 
dications of  deep  and  tumultuous  feeling  with  which  they  were 
accompanied. 

For  two  or  three  minutes  Edith  stood  as  motionless  as  the 
statue  of  a  saint  which  receives  the  adoration  of  a  worshipper  ; 
and  when  she  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  withdraw  her 
hands  from  Henry's  grasp  she  could  at  first  only  faintly  artic- 
ulate, "I  have  taken  a  strange  step,  Mr.  Morton — a  step," 
she  continued,  with  more  coherence,  as  her  ideas  arranged  them- 
selves in  consequence  of  a  strong  effort,  *' that  perhaps  may 
expose  me  to  censure  in  your  eyes.  But  I  have  long  permitted 
you  to  use  the  language  of  friendship — perhaps  I  might  say 
more — too  long  to  leave  you  when  the  world  seems  to  have 
left  you.  How  or  why  is  this  imprisonment  ?  what  can  be 
done  ?  Can  my  uncle,  who  thinks  so  highly  of  you — can  your 
own  kinsman,  Milnwood,  be  of  no  use  ?  are  there  no  means  ? 
and  what  is  likely  to  be  the  event  ?  " 

^'  Be  what  it  will,"  answered  Henry,  contriving  to  make 
himself  master  of  the  hand  that  had  escaped  from  him,  but 


96  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

which  was  now  again  abandoned  to  his  clasp — ^'  be  what  it  will, 
it  is  to  me  from  this  moment  the  most  welcome  incident  of  a 
weary  life.  To  you,  dearest  Edith — forgive  me,  I  should  have 
said  Miss  Bellenden,  but  misfortune  claims  strange  privi- 
leges— to  you  I  have  owed  the  few  happy  moments  which 
have  gilded  a  gloomy  existence ;  and  if  I  am  now  to  lay  it 
down,  the  recollection  of  this  honor  will  be  my  happiness  in 
the  last  hour  of  suffering/^ 

'*  But  is  it  even  thus,  Mr.  Morton  ?  "  said  Miss  Bellenden. 
*'  Have  you,  who  used  to  mix  so  little  in  these  unhappy  feuds, 
become  so  suddenly  and  deeply  implicated  that  nothing  short 

of "     She  paused,  unable  to  bring  out  the  word  which 

should  have  come  next. 

'^  Nothing  short  of  my  life,  you  would  say  ?  "  replied  Mor- 
ton, in  a  calm  but  melancholy  tone  ;  '^  I  believe  that  will  be 
entirely  in  the  bosoms  of  my  judges.  My  guards  spoke  of  a 
possibility  of  exchanging  the  penalty  for  entry  into  foreign 
service.  I  thought  I  could  have  embraced  the  alternative ; 
and  yet.  Miss  Bellenden,  since  I  have  seen  you  once  more  I 
feel  that  exile  would  be  more  galling  than  death.''' 

'^  And  it  is  then  true,''  said  Edith,  ''  that  you  have  been 
so  desperately  rash  as  to  entertain  communication  with  any  of 
those  cruel  wretches  who  assassinated  the  primate  ?  " 

^'  I  knew  not  even  that  such  a  crime  had  been  committed,'' 
replied  Morton,  ''when  I  gave  unhappily  a  night's  lodging 
and  concealment  to  one  of  those  rash  and  cruel  men,  the  an- 
cient friend  and  comrade  of  my  father.  But  my  ignorance 
will  avail  me  little  ;  for  who.  Miss  Bellenden,  save  you  will 
believe  it  ?  And  what  is  worse,  I  am  at  least  uncertain 
whether,  even  if  I  had  known  the  crime,  I  could  have  brought 
my  mind,  under  all  the  circumstances,  to  refuse  a  tempo- 
rary refuge  to  the  fugitive." 

"And  by  whom,"  said  Edith,  anxiously,  ''or  under  what 
authority  will  the  investigation  of  your  conduct  take  place  ?  " 

"Under  that  of  Colonel  Grahame  of  Claverhouse,  I  am 
given  to  understand,"  said  Morton  ;  "  one  of  the  military 
commission,  to  whom  it  has  pleased  our  king,  our  privy  coun- 
cil, and  our  parliament,  that  used  to  be  more  tenacious  of  our 
liberties,  to  commit  the  sole  charge  of  our  goods  and  of  our 
lives." 

"To  Claverhouse?"  said  Edith,  faintly  ;  "merciful 
Heaven,  you  are  lost  ere  you  are  tried  !     He  wrote  to  my 

grandmother  that  he  was  to  be  here  to-morrow  morning  on 
is   road  to  the  head  of  the  county,  where  some  desperate 
man,  animated  bvthe  presence  of  two  or  three  of  the  actors 


OLD  MORTALITY  97 

in  the  primate's  murder,  are  said  to  have  assembled  for  the 
purpose  of  making  a  stand  against  the  government.  His  ex- 
pressions made  me  shudder  even  when  I  could  not  guess  that 

— that — a  friend '' 

*'  Do  not  be  too  much  alarmed  on  my  account,  my  dearest 
Edith/'  said  Henry,  as  he  supported  her  in  his  arms ;  ^'  Claver-  ^  •i-yi 
house,  though  stern  and  relentless,  is,  by  all  accounts,  brave,  ^f^^Yjt 
fair,  and  honorable.     I  am  a  soldier's  son,  and  will  plead  my   ^^Jc^ftixfl 
cause  like  a  soldier.     He  will  perhaps  listen  more  favorably  to    ,^  x^' 
a  blunt  and  unvarnished  defence  than  a  truckling  and  time-    ,^.^^5^ 
serving  judge  might  do.  And,  indeed,  in  a  time  when  justice    Y*1[™1 
is  in  all  its  branches  so  completely  corrupted,  I  would  rather    f^^f^^^ 
lose  my  life  by  open  military  violence  than  be  conjured  out  of     ^  '^^"'f*^ 
it  by  the  hocus-pocus  of  some  arbitrary  lawyer,  who  lends  the      '^  jTj^ 
knowledge  he  has  of  the  statutes,  made^fox  pur  pnoteotion,  to    ^  ^^ 
wrest  them  to  our  destruction."  ^  ^ 

*^  You  are  lost — you  are  lost,  if  you  are  to  plead  your  cause     V^^^/^^ 
with  Claverhouse  !  "  sighed  Edith  ;  *^  root  and  branch-work      v*^**^* 
is  the  mildest  of  his  expressions.     The  unhappy  primate  was     j^  ^^**^ 
his  intimate  friend  and  early  patron.     '  'No  excuse,  no  sub- 
terfuge/ said  his  letter,  ^  shall  save  either  those  connected 
with  the  deed,  or  such  as  have  given  them  countenance  and 
shelter,  from  the  ample  and  bitter  penalty  of  the  law,  until 
I  shall  have  taken  as  many  lives  in  vengeance  of  this  atrocious 
murder  as  the  old   man  had  gray  hairs  upon  his  venerable 
head.'     There  is  neither  ruth  nor  favor  to  be  found  with 
him." 

Jenny  Dennison,  who  had  hitherto  remained  silent,  now 
ventured,  in  the  extremity  of  distress  which  the  lovers  felt, 
but  for  which  they  were  unable  to  devise  a  remedy,  to  offer 
her  own  advice. 

*'  Wi'your  leddyship's  pardon.  Miss  Edith,  and  young  Mr. 
Morton's,  we  maunna  waste  time.  Let  Milnwood  take  my 
plaid  and  gown  ;  I'll  slip  them  aff  in  the  dark  corner  if  he'll 
promise  no  to  look  about,  and  he  may  walk  past  Tam  Halli- 
day,  who  is  half  blind  with  his  ale,  and  I  can  tell  him  a  canny 
way  to  get  out  o'  the  Tower,  and  your  leddyship  will  gang 
quietly  to  your  ain  room,  and  I'll  row  mysell  in  his  gray  cloak 
and  pit  on  his  hat,  and  play  the  prisoner  till  the  coast's  clear, 
and  then  I'll  cry  in  Tam  Halliday  and  gar  him  let  me  out." 

^' Let  you  out!"  said  Morton;  "they'll  make  your  life 
answer  it." 

"  Ne'er  a  bit,"  replied  Jenny.  "  Tam  daurna  tell  he  let 
onybody  in,  for  his  ain  sake  ;  and  I'll  gar  him  find  some  other 
gate  to  account  for  the  escape." 


96  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''Will  you,  by  G — ?"said  the  sentinel,  suddenly  opening 
the  door  of  the  apartment ;  "if  I  am  half  blind  I  am  not 
deaf,  and  you  should  not  plan  an  escape  quite  so  loud  if  you 
expect  to  go  through  with  it.  Come,  come,  Mrs.  Janet — 
march,  troop — quick  time  —  trot,  d — n  me  !  And  you, 
madam  kinswoman  ;  I  won't  ask  your  real  name,  though  you 
were  going  to  play  me  so  rascally  a  trick,  but  I  must  make  a 
clear  garrison ;  so  beat  a  retreat,  unless  you  would  have  me 
turn  out  the  guard. ^' 

"I  hope,^'  said  Morton,  very  anxiously,  ''you  will  not 
mention  this  circumstance,  my  good  friend,  and  trust  to  my 
honor  to  acknowledge  your  civility  in  keeping  the  secret. 
If  you  overheard  our  conversation,  you  must  have  observed 
that  we  did  not  accept  of,  or  enter  into,  the  hasty  proposal 
made  by  this  good-natured  girl.'' 

'^  Oh,  devilish  good-natured  to  be  sure,''  said  Halliday. 
"  As  for  the  rest,  I  guess  how  it  is,  and  I  scorn  to  bear  malice 
or  tell  tales  as  much  as  another  ;  but  no  thanks  to  that  little 
jilting  devil  Jenny  Dennison,  who  deserves  a  tight  skelping 
for  trying  to  lead  an  honest  lad  into  a  scrape,  just  because  he 
was  so  silly  as  to  like  her  good-for-little  chit  face." 

Jenny  had  no  better  means  of  justification  than  the  last 
apology  to  which  her  sex  trust,  and  usually  not  in  vain  :  she 
pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  sobbed  with  great  vehe- 
mence, and  either  wept  or  managed,  as  Halliday  might  have 
said,  to  go  through  the  motions  wonderfully  well. 

"  And  now,"  continued  the  soldier,  somewhat  mollified, 
"if  you  have  anything  to  say,  say  it  in  two  minutes,  and  let 
me  see  your  backs  turned  ;  for,  if  Bothwell  take  it  into  his 
drunken  head  to  make  the  rounds  half  an  hour  too  soon,  it 
will  be  a  black  business  to  us  all." 

"  Farewell,  Edith,"  whispered  Morton,  assuming  a  firm- 
ness he  was  far  from  possessing ;  "  do  not  remain  here ;  leave 
me  to  my  fate  ;  it  cannot  be  beyond  endurance  since  you  are 
interested  in  it.  Good-night — good-night  !  Do  not  remain 
here  till  you  are  discovered." 

Thus  saying,  he  resigned  her  to  her  attendant,  by  whom 
she  was  partly  led  and  partly  supported  out  of  the  apart- 
ment. 

"  Every  one  has  his  taste,  to  be  sure,"  said  Halliday  ;  "  but 
d — n  me  if  I  would  have  vexed  so  sweet  a  girl  as  that  is  for  all 
the  Whigs  that  ever  swore  the  Covenant." 

When  Edith  had  regained  her  apartment  she  gave  way  to 
a  burst  of  grief  which  alarmed  Jenny  Dennison,  wlio  hastened 
to  administer  such  scraps  of  consolation  as  occurred  to  her. 


OLD  MORTALITY  M 

*'  Dinna  vex  yoursell  sae  muckle,  Miss  Edith/^  said  that 
faithful  attendant ;  "  wha  kens  what  may  happen  to  help  young 
Milnwood  ?  He's  a  brave  lad  and  a  bonny,  and  a  gentlenjan  of 
a  good  fortune,  and  they  winna  string  the  like  o'  him  up  as 
they  do  the  puir  Whig  bodies  that  they  catch  in  the  niuirs  like 
straps  o'  onions.  Maybe  his  uncle  will  bring  him  aff,  or  may- 
be your  ain  grand-uncle  will  speak  a  gude  word  for  him  ;  he's 
weel  acquent  wi'  a'  the  redcoat  gentlemen/' 

"  You  are  right,  Jenny — you  are  right,"  said  Edith,  re- 
covering herself  from  the  stupor  into  which  she  had  sunk  ; 
*Hhis  is  no  time  for  despair,  but  for  exertion.  You  must 
finds  ome  one  to  ride  this  very  night  to  my  uncle's  with  a 
letter." 

"  To  Charnwood,  madam  ?  It's  unco  late,  and  it's  sax 
miles  an'  a  bittock  doun  the  water ;  I  doubt  if  we  can  find 
man  and  horse  the  night,  mair  especially  as  they  hae  mounted 
a  sentinel  before  the  gate.  Puir  Cuddie  !  he's  gane,  puii 
fallow,  that  wad  hae  dune  aught  in  the  warld  I  bade  him,  and 
ne'er  asked  a  reason  ;  an'  I've  had  nae  time  to  draw  up  wi' 
the  new  pleugh-lad  yet ;  forbye  that,  they  say  he's  gaun  to  be 
married  to  Meg  Murdieson,  ill-faur'd  cuttie  as  she  is." 

"  You  must  find  some  one  to  go,  Jenny  ;  life  and  death 
depend  upon  it." 

"  I  wad  gang  mysell,  my  leddy,  for  I  could  creep  out  at  the 
window  o'  the  pantry,  and  speel  down  by  the  auld  yew-tree  weel 
eneugh  ;  I  hae  played  that  trick  ere  now.  But  the  road's  unco 
wild,  and  sae  mony  redcoats  about,  forbye  the  Whigs,  that  are 
no  muckle  better — the  young  lads  o'  them — if  they  meet  a 
fraim  body  their  lane  in  the  muirs.  I  wadna  stand  for  the 
walk ;  I  can  walk  ten  miles  by  moonlight  weel  eneugh.'^ 

"Is  there  no  one  you  can  think  of  that,  for  money  or 
favor,  would  serve  me  so  far  ?"  asked  Edith,  in  great  anxiety. 

"  I  dinna  ken,"  said  Jenny,  after  a  moment's  consider- 
ation, "  unless  it  be  Guse  Gibbie  ;  and  he'll  maybe  no  ken 
the  way,  though  it's  no  sae  difficult  to  hit  if  he  keep  the 
horse-road  and  mind  the  turn  at  the  Cappercleugh,  and  dinna 
drown  himsell  in  the  Whomlekirn  pule,  or  fa'  ower  the  scaur 
at  the  Deil's  Loaning,  or  miss  ony  o'  the  kittle  steps  at  the 
Pass  o'  Walkwary,  or  be  carried  to  the  hills  by  the  Whigs, 
or  be  taen  to  the  tolbooth  by  the  redcoats." 

*^  All  ventures  must  be  run,"  said  Edith,  cutting  short 
the  list  of  chances  against  Goose  Gibbie's  safe  arrival  at  the 
end  of  his  pilgrimage — "  all  risks  must  be  run,  unless  you 
can  find  a  better  messenger.  Go,  bid  the  boy  get  ready,  and 
get  him  out  of  the  Tower  as  secretly  as  you  can.     If  he  meets 


100  WAVERLE'k  NOVELS 

any  one,  let  him  say  he  is  carrying  a  letter  to  Major  Bellen- 
den  of  Cham  wood,  but  without  mentioning  any  names/^ 

"I  understand,  madam,"  said  Jenny  Dennison.  ^^  I  war- 
rant the  callant  will  do  weel  eneugh,  and  Tib  the  hen-wife 
will  tak  care  o'  the  geese  for  a  word  o"*  my  mouth  ;  and  I'll 
tell  Gibbie  your  leddyship  will  mak  his  peace  wi'  Lady 
Margaret,  and  we'll  gie  him  a  dollar/' 

''  Two  if  he  does  his  errand  well,"  said  Edith. 

Jenny  departed  to  rouse  Goose  Gibbie  out  of  his  slumbers, 
to  which  he  was  usually  consigned  at  sundown  or  shortly 
after,  he  keeping  the  hours  of  the  birds  under  his  charge. 
During  her  absence  Edith  took  her  writing  materials  and 
prepared  against  her  return  the  following  letter,  super- 
scribed— 

For  the  hands  of  Major  Bellenden  of  Charnwood,  my 
much  honored  uncle.  These  : 

"  My  dear  Ui^"CLE — This  will  serve  to  inform  you  I  am  de- 
girous  to  know  how  your  gout  is,  as  we  did  not  see  you  at  the 
wappenschaw,  which  made  both  my  grandmother  and  myself 
very  uneasy.  And  if  it  will  permit  you  to  travel,  we  shall 
be  happy  to  see  you  at  our  poor  house  to-morrow  at  the  hour 
of  breakfast,  as  Colonel  Grahame  of  Claverhouse  is  to  pass 
this  way  on  his  march,  and  we  would  willingly  have  your 
assistance  to  receive  and  entertain  a  military  man  of  such 
distinction,  who  probably  will  not  be  much  delighted  with 
the  company  of  women.  Also,  my  dear  uncle,  I  pray  you  to 
let  Mrs.  Carefor't,  your  housekeeper,  send  me  my  double- 
trimmed  paduasoy  with  the  hanging  sleeves,  which  she  Avill 
find  in  the  third  drawer  of  the  walnut  press  in  the  green 
room,  which  you  are  so  kind  as  to  call  mine.  Also,  my  dear 
uncle,  I  pray  you  to  send  me  the  second  volume  of  the  Grand 
CyruSy  as  I  have  only  read  as  far  as  the  imprisonment  of 
Philidaspes  upon  the  seven  hundredth  and  thirty-third  page ; 
but,  above  all,  I  entreat  you  to  come  to  us  to-morrow  before 
eight  of  the  clock,  which,  as  your  pacing  nag  is  so  good,  you 
may  well  do  without  rising  before  your  usual  hour.  So  pray- 
ing to  God  to  preserve  your  health,  I  rest  your  dutiful  and 
loving  niece, 

"  Edith  Bellei^ dbn". 

" Postscriptum, — A  party  of  soldiers  have  last  night 
brought  your  friend,  young  Mr.  Henry  Morton  of  Milnwood, 
hither  as  a  prisoner.  I  conclude  you  will  be  sorry  for  the 
young  gentleman,  and,  therefore,  let  you  know  this  im 


OLD  MORTALITY  li)J 

you  may  think  of  speaking  to  Colonel  Grahame  m  nis  behalf. 
I  have  not  mentioned  his  name  to  my  grandmother,  knowing 
her  prejudice  against  the  family/' 

This  epistle  being  duly  sealed  and  delivered  to  Jenny, 
that  faithful  confidante  hastened  to  put  the  same  in  the  charge 
of  Goose  Gibbie,  whom  she  found  in  readiness  to  start  from 
the  castle.  She  then  gave  him  various  instructions  touching 
the  road,  which  she  apprehended  he  was  likely  to  mistake, 
not  having  travelled  it  above  five  or  six  times,  and  possessing 
only  the  same  slender  proportion  of  memory  as  of  judgment. 
Lastly,  she  smuggled  him  out  of  the  garrison  through  the 
pantry  window  into  the  branchy  yew-tree  which  grew  close 
beside  it,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  him  reach  the  bot- 
tom in  safety  and  take  the  right  turn  at  the  commencement 
of  his  journey.  She  then  returned  to  persuade  her  young 
mistress  to  go  to  bed,  and  to  lull  her  to  rest,  if  possible,  with 
assurances  of  Gibbie's  success  in  his  embassy,  only  qualified  by 
a  passing  regret  that  the  trusty  Cuddie,  with  whom  the  com- 
mission might  have  been  more  safely  reposed,  was  no  longer 
within  reach  of  serving  her. 

More  fortunate  as  a  messenger  than  as  a  cavalier,  it  was 
Gibbie's  good  hap  rather  than  his  good  management  which, 
after  he  had  gone  astray  not  oftener  than  nine  times,  and 
given  his  garments  a  taste  of  the  variation  of  each  bog,  brook, 
arud  slough  between  Tillietudlem  and  Chamwood,  placed  him 
about  daybreak  before  the  gate  of  Major  Bellenden  s  mansion, 
having  completed  a  walk  of  ten  miles — for  the  bittock,  as 
usual,  amounted  to  four — in  little  more  than  the  same  number 
of  hours. 


CHAPTER  XI 

jlt  last  comes  the  troop,  by  the  word  of  command 
Drawn  up  in  our  court,  where  the  Captain  cries,  Stand  I 

Swift. 

Major  Bellendejs^'s  ancient  valet,  Gideon  Pike,  as  he  ad- 
justed his  master^s  clothes  by  his  bedside,  preparatory  to  the 
worthy  veteran's  toilet,  acquainted  him,  as  an  apology  for 
disturbing  him  an  hour  earlier  than  his  usual  time  of  rising, 
that  there  was  an  express  from  Tillietudlem. 

'*From  Tillietudlem  ? '^  said  the  old  gentleman,  rising 
hastily  in  his  bed  and  sitting  bolt  upright.  *^  Open  the  shut- 
ters. Pike.  I  hope  my  sister-in-law  is  well  ;  furl  up  the 
bed-curtain.  What  have  we  all  here  ?  [glancing  at  E9.ith's 
note] .  The  gout  !  why,  she  knows  I  have  not  had  a  fit  since 
Candlemas.  The  wappenschaw  !  I  told  her  a  month  since 
I  was  not  to  be  there.  Paduasoy  and  hanging  sleeves  !  why, 
hang  the  gypsy  herself  !  Grand  Cyrus  and  Philipdastus  ! 
Philip  Devil !  is  the  wench  gone  crazy  all  at  once  ?  was  it  worth 
while  to  send  an  express  and  wake  me  at  five  in  the  morning 
for  all  this  trash  ?  But  what  says  her  postscriptum  ?  Mercy 
on  us  \"  he  exclaimed,  on  perusing  it.  *'Pike,  saddle  old 
Kilsyth  instantly,  and  another  horse  for  yourself.^' 

'*  I  hope  nae  ill  news  frae  the  Tower,  sir  ?  "  said  Pike,  as- 
tonished at  his  master's  sudden  emotion. 

"  Yes — no — yes — that  is,  I  must  meet  Claverhouse  there 
on  some  express  business  ;  so  boot  and  saddle.  Pike,  as  fast  as 
you  can.  0  Lord  !  what  times  are  these  !  The  poor  lad,  my 
old  cronie's  son  !  and  the  silly  wench  sticks  it  into  her  post- 
scriptum, as  she  calls  it,  at  the  tail  of  all  this  trumpery  about 
old  gowns  and  new  romances  ! " 

In  a  few  minutes  the  good  old  officer  was  fully  equipped  ; 
and,  having  mounted  upon  his  arm-gaunt  charger  as  so- 
berly as  Mark  Antony  himself  could  have  done,  he  paced  forth 
his  way  to  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem. 

On  the  road  he  formed  the  prudent  resolution  to  say  nothing 
to  the  old  lady  (whose  dislike  to  Presbyterians  of  all  kinds  he 
knew  to  be  inveterate)  of  the  quality  and  rank  of  the  prisoner 


OLD  MORTALITY  108 

ucuoiued  within  her  walls,  but  to  try  his  own  influence  with 
Claverhouse  to  obtain  Morton's  liberation. 

'^  Being  so  loyal  as  he  is,  he  must  do  something  for  so  old 
a  Cavalier  as  I  am,''  said  the  veteran  to  himself  ;  ''  and  if  he 
is  so  good  a  soldier  as  the  world  speaks  of,  why,  he  will  be  glad 
to  serve  an  old  soldier's  son.  I  never  knew  a  real  soldier  that 
was  not  a  frank-hearted,  honest  fellow ;  and  I  think  the  execu- 
tion of  the  laws — though  it's  a  pity  they  find  it  necessary  to 
make  them  so  severe — may  be  a  thousand  times  better  intrust- 
ed with  them  than  with  peddling  lawyers  and  thick-skulled 
country  gentlemen." 

Such  were  the  ruminations  of  Major  Miles  Bellenden, 
which  were  terminated  by  John  Gudyill  (not  more  than  half 
drunk)  taking  hold  of  his  bridle,  and  assisting  him  to  dismount 
in  the  rough-paved  court  of  Tillietudlem. 

"  Why,  John,"  said  the  veteran,  '^  what  devil  of  a  discipline 
is  this  you  have  been  keeping  ?  You  have  been  reading  Geneva 
print  *  this  morning  already." 

*^  I  have  been  reading  the  Litany,"  said  John,  shaking  his 
head  with  a  look  of  drunken  gravity,  and  having  only  caught 
one  word  of  the  Major's  address  to  him.  '*  Life  is  short,  sir  ; 
we  are  flowers  of  the  field,  sir — hiccup — and  lilies  of  the 
valley." 

"  Flowers  and  lilies  !  Why,  man,  such  carles  as  thou  and  I 
can  hardly  be  called  better  than  old  hemlocks,  decayed  nettles, 
or  withered  ragweed ;  but  I  suppose  you  think  that  we  are 
still  worth  watering." 

"  I  am  an  old  soldier,  sir,  I  thank  Heaven — hiccup — ^ — " 

"  An  old  skinker,  you  mean,  John.  But  come,  never  mind, 
show  me  the  way  to  your  mistress,  old  lad." 

John  Gudyill  led  the  way  to  the  stone  hall,  where  Lady 
Margaret  was  fidgeting  about,  superintending,  arranging,  and 
re-forming  the  preparations  made  for  the  reception  of  the  cele- 
brated Claverhouse,  whom  one  party  honored  and  extolled  as 
a  hero,  and  another  execrated  as  a  bloodthirsty  oppressor. 

''  Did  I  not  tell  you,"  said  Lady  Margaret  to  her  principal 
female  attendant — '''did  I  not  tell  you,  Mysie,  that  it  was  my 
especial  pleasure  on  this  occasion  to  have  everything  in  the 

Erecise  order  wherein  it  was  upon  that  famous  morning  when 
is  most  sacred  Majesty  partook  of  his  disjune  at  Tillie- 
tudlem?" 

*'  Doubtless  such  were  your  led dyship's  commands,  and  to 

the  best  of  my  remembrance "  w^as    Mysie    answering, 

when  her  ladyship  broke  in  with,  "  Then  wherefore  is  the 

♦  The  Geneva  Book  of  Discipline,  adopted  by  the  Scottish  E*resby  teriaiis  (jAung). 


104  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

yenison  pasty  placed  on  the  left  side  of  the  throne,  and  the 
stoup  of  claret  upon  the  right,  when  ye  may  right  weel  re- 
member, Mysie,  that  his  most  sacred  Majesty  with  his  ain 
hand  shifted  the  pasty  to  the  same  side  with  the  flagon,  and 
said  they  were  too  good  friends  to  be  parted  ?  " 

*'  I  mind  that  weel,  madam,'^  said  Mysie ;  ''and  if  I  had 
forgot,  I  have  heard  your  leddyship  often  speak  about  that 
grand  morning  sin'  syne  ;  but  I  thought  everything  was  to  be 
placed  just  as  it  was  when  his  Majesty,  Grod  bless  him  !  came 
into  this  room,  looking  mair  like  an  angel  than  a  man  if  he 
hadnabeen  sae  black-a- vised/' 

"  Then  ye  thought  nonsense,  Mysie  ;  for  in  whatever  way 
his  most  sacred  Majesty  ordered  the  position  of  the  trenchers 
and  flagons,  that,  as  weel  as  his  royal  pleasure  in  greater 
matters,  should  be  a  law  to  his  subjects,  and  shall  ever  be  to 
those  of  the  house  of  Tillietudlem/' 

^'  Weel,  madam,''  said  Mysie,  making  the  alterations  re- 
quired,''it's  easy  mending  the  error;  but  if  everything  is 
just  to  be  as  his  Majesty  left  it  there  should  be  an  unco  hole  in 
the  venison  pasty." 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened. 

"Who  is  that,  John  Gudyill  ?"  exclaimed  the  old  lady. 
"  I  can  speak  to  no  one  just  now.  Is  it  you,  my  dear 
brother  ? "  she  continued,  in  some  surprise,  as  the  Major 
entered;  "  this  is  a  right  early  visit." 

"  Not  more  early  than  welcome,  I  hope,"  replied  Major 
Bellenden,  as  he  saluted  the  widow  of  his  deceased  brother  ; 
"  but  I  heard  by  a  note  which  Edith  sent  to  Charnwood  about 
some  of  her  equipage  and  books  that  you  were  to  have 
Claver'se  here  this  morning,  so  I  thought,  like  an  old  firelock 
as  I  am,  that  I  should  like  to  have  a  chat  with  this  rising  sol- 
dier.    I  caused  Pike  saddle  Kilsyth,  and  here  we  both  are." 

"  And  most  kindly  welcome  you  are,"  said  the  old  lady  ; 
"it  13  just  what  I  should  have  prayed  you  to  do  if  I  had 
thought  there  was  time.  You  see  I  am  busy  in  preparation. 
All  is  to  be  in  the  same  order  as  when " 

"  The  King  breakfasted  at  Tillietudlem,"  said  the  Major, 
who,  like  all  Lady  Margaret's  friends,  dreaded  the  commence- 
ment of  that  narrative,  and  was  desirous  to  cut  it  short.  "I 
remember  it  well ,  you  know  I  was  waiting  on  his  Majesty." 

*'  'You  were,  biothei,"  said  Lady  Margaret ;  "  and  perhaps 
yoQ  can  help  me  to  remember  the 'order  of  the  entertain 
ment.'' 

'*  Nay^  sood  sooth, '  said  the  Major,  "  the  damnable  din- 
aQi  that  Not  gave  us  at  Worcester  h  few  days  atterwaids  drove 


OLD  MORTALITY  105 

all  yoar  good  cheer  out  of  my  memory.  But  how's  this  ?  you 
have  even  the  great  Turkey-leather  elbow-chair  with  the  tap- 
estry cushions  placed  in  state/'' 

"  The  throne,  brother,  if  you  please/^  said  Lady  Margaret, 
gravely. 

"Well,  the  throne  be  it,  then,''  continued  the  Major, 
''  Is  that  to  be  Claver'se's  post  in  the  attack  upon  the  pasty  ?" 

"  No,  brother,"  said  the  lady;  *'as  these  cusliions  liave 
been  once  honored  by  accommodating  the  person  of  our  most 
sacred  monarch,  they  shall  never,  please  Heaven,  during  my 
lifetime,  be  pressed  by  any  less  dignified  weight." 

"  You  should  not,  then,"  said  the  old  soldier,  "  put  them 
in  the  way  of  an  honest  old  Cavalier  who  has  ridden  ten  miles 
before  breakfast ;  for,  to  confess  the  truth,  they  look  very  in- 
viting.    But  where  is  Edith  ?  " 

*'  On  the  battlements  of  the  warder's  turret,"' answered  the 
old  lady,  "  looking  out  for  the  approach  of  our  guests." 

"Why,  I'll  go  there  too  ;  and  so  should  you.  Lady  Mar- 
garet, as  soon  as  you  have  your  line  of  battle  properly  formed 
in  the  hall  here.  It's  a  pretty  thing,  I  can  tell  you,  to  see  a 
regiment  of  horse  upon  the  march."  w-i 

Thus  speaking,  he  offered  liis  arm  with  an  air  of  old-fash-    .  jJ^ 
ioned  gallantry,  which  Lady  Margaret  accepted  with  such  a  ^<r 
courtesy  of  acknowledgment  as  ladies  were  wont  to  make  m 
Holyrood  House  before  the  year  1642,  which,  for  one  while, 
drove  both  courtesies  and  courts  out  of  fashion. 

Upon  the  bartizan  of  the  turret,  to  which  they  ascended 
by  many  a  winding  passage  and  uncouth  staircase,  they  found 
Edith,  not  in  the  attitude  of  a  young  lady  who  watches  with 
fluttering  curiosity  the  approach  of  a  smart  regiment  of 
dragoons,  but  pale,  downcast,  and  evincing  by  her  counte- 
nance that  sleep  had  not  during  the  preceding  night  been  the 
companion  of  her  pillow.  The  good  old  veteran  was  hurt 
at  her  appearance,  w^hich,  m  the  hurry  of  preparation,  her 
grandmother  had  omitted  to  notice. 

"  What  is  come  over  you,  you  silly  girl  ?''  he  said  ;  "  why, 
you  look  like  an  officer's  wife  when  she  opens  the  news-letter 
after  an  action  and  expects  to  find  her  husband  among  the 
killed  and  wounded.  But  I  know  the  reason  :  you  will  per- 
sist in  reading  these  nonsensical  romances  day  and  night,  and 
whimpering  for  distresses  that  never  existed:  Why,  how  the 
devil  can  you  believe  that  Artamines,  or  what  d^ye  call  him, 
fought  single-handed  with  a  whole  battalion  ^  One  to  three 
is  as  great  odds  as  ever  tought  and  wou,  and  I  never  knew  any- 
body that  cared  to  take  that  except  old  Corporal  Raddiebanes 


106  WjlVERLEY  novels 

But  these  d — d  books  put  all  pretty  men's  actions  out  of  coun- 
tenance. I  dare  say  you  would  think  very  little  of  Raddlebanes 
if  he  were  alongside  of  Artamines.  I  would  have  the  fellows 
that  write  such  nonsense  brought  to  the  picquet  for  leasing- 
making/'  * 

,  Lady  Margaret,  herself  somewhat  attached  to  the  perusal 
of  romances,  took  up  the  cudgels. 

*^  Monsieur  Scuderi/'she  said,  '^  is  a  soldier,  brother  ;  and, 
as  I  have  heard,  a  complete  one,  and  so  is  the  Sieur  d'Urfe.'" 

*'  More  shame  for  them ;  they  should  have  known  better 
what  they  were  writing  about.  For  my  part,  I  have  not  read 
a  book  these  twenty  years,  except  my  Bible,  The  Wliole  Duty 
of  Man,  and  of  late  days.  Turner's  Pallas  Armata,  or  Treatise 
on  the  Ordering  of  the  Pike  Exercise,\  and  I  don't  like  his 
discipline  much  neither.  He  wants  to  draw  up  the  cavalry  in 
front  of  a  stand  of  pikes,  instead  of  being  upon  the  wings. 
Sure  am  I,  if  we  had  done  so  at  Kilsyth,  instead  of  having  our 
handful  of  horse  on  the  flanks,  the  first  discharge  would  have 
sent  them  back  among  our  Highlanders.  But  I  hear  the  ket- 
tle-drums." 

All  heads  were  now  bent  from  the  battlements  of  the  tur- 
ret which  commanded  a  distant  prospect  down  the  vale  of  the 
river.  The  Tower  of  Tillietudlem  stood,  or  perhaps  yet 
stands,  upon  the  angle  of  a  very  precipitous  bank,  formed  by 
the  junction  of  a  considerable  brook  with  the  Clyde.  J;  There 
was  a  narrow  bridge  of  one  steep  arch  across  the  brook  near 
its  mouth,  over  which,  and  along  the  foot  of  the  high  and 
broken  bank,  winded  the  public  road  ;  and  the  f ortalice,  thus 
commanding  both  bridge  and  pass,  had  been  in  times  of  war 
a  post  of  considerable  importance,  the  possession  of  which  was 
necessary  to  secure  the  communication  of  the  upper  and  wilder 
districts  of  the  country  with  those  beneath,  where  the  valley 
expands  and  is  more  capable  of  cultivation.  The  view  down- 
wards is  of  a  grand  woodland  character ;  but  the  level  ground 
and  gentle  slopes  near  the  river  form  cultivated  fields  of  an 
irregular  shape,  interspersed  with  hedgerow  trees  and  copses, 
the  enclosures  seeming  to  have  been  individually  cleared  out 
of  the  forest  which  surrounds  them,  and  which  occupies  in, 
unbroken  masses  the  steeper  declivities  and  more  distant 
banks.  The  stream,  in  color  a  clear  and  sparkling  brown, 
like  the  hue  of  the  Cairngorm  pebbles,  rushes  through  this 
romantic  region  in  bold  sweeps  and  curves,  partly  visible  and 

*  See  Romances  of  the  Seventeenth  Century,   Note  17. 
t  See  Sir  James  Turner.    Note  18. 
X  Bee  Tillietudlem  Castle.     Note  19. 


OLD  MORTALITY  10? 

partly  concealed  by  the  trees  which  clothe  its  banks.  With 
a  providence  unknown  in  other  parts  of  Scotland,  the  peasants 
have  in  most  places  planted  orchards  around  their  cottages, 
and  the  general  blossom  of  the  apple-trees  at  this  season  of 
the  year  gave  all  the  lower  part  of  the  view  the  appearance  of 
a  flower-garden. 

Looking  up  the  river,  the  character  of  the  scene  was  varied 
considerably  for  the  worse.  A  hilly,  waste,  and  uncultivated 
country  approached  close  to  tlie  banks  ;  the  trees  were  few 
and  limited  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  stream,  and  the  rude 
moors  swelled  at  a  little  distance  into  shapeless  and  heavy 
hills,  which  were  again  surmounted  in  their  turn  by  a  range 
of  lofty  mountains  dimly  seen  on  the  horizon.  Thus  the 
tower  commanded  two  prospects,  the  one  richly  cultivated 
and  highly  adorned,  the  other  exhibiting  the  monotonous 
and  dreary  character  of  a  wild  and  inhospitable  moorland. 

The  eyes  of  the  spectators  on  the  present  occasion  were 
attracted  to  the  downward  view,  not  alone  by  its  superior 
beauty,  but  because  the  distant  sounds  of  military  music  be- 
gan to  be  heard  from  the  public  high-road  which  winded  up 
the  vale  and  announced  the  approach  of  the  expected  body 
of  cavalry.  Their  glimmering  ranks  were  shortly  afterwards 
seen  in  the  distance,  appearing  and  disappearing  as  the  trees 
and  the  windings  of  the  road  permitted  them  to  be  visible, 
and  distinguished  chiefly  by  the  flashes  of  light  which  their 
arms  occasionally  reflected  against  the  sun.  The  train  was 
long  and  imposing,  for  there  were  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  horse  upon  the  march,  and  the  glancing  of  the  swords 
and  waving  of  their  banners,  joined  to  the  clang  of  their 
trumpets  and  kettle-drums,  had  at  once  a  lively  and  awful 
effect  upon  the  imagination.  As  they  advanced  still  nearer 
and  nearer,  they  could  distinctly  see  the  files  of  those  chosen 
troops  following  each  other  in  long  succession,  completely 
equipped  and  superbly  mounted. 

*'  It^s  a  sight  that  makes  me  thirty  years  younger, ''  said 
the  old  cavalier  ;  '^  and  yet  I  do  not  much  like  the  service  that 
these  poor  fellows  are  to  be  engaged  in.  Although  I  had  my 
share  of  the  civil  war,  I  cannot  say  I  had  ever  so  much  real 
pleasure  in  that  sort  of  service  as  when  I  was  employed  on  the 
Continent,  and  we  were  hacking  at  fellows  with  foreign  faces 
and  outlandish  dialect.  It's  a  hard  thing  to  hear  a  hamely 
Scotch  tongue  cry  '  Quarter,'  and  be  obliged  to  cut  him 
down  just  the  same  as  if  he  called  out  *  Misericorde.'  So 
there  they  come  through  the  Netherwood  haugh  ;  upon  my 
word,  fine-looking  fellows  and  capitally  mounted.     He  that  is 


108  WAV^ELEY  NOVELS 

galloping  from  the  rear  of  the  column  must  be  Claver'se  him- 
self ;  ay,  he  gets  into  the  front  as  they  cross  the  bridge,  and 
now  they  will  be  with  us  in  less  than  five  minutes/' 

At  the  bridge  beneath  the  tower  the  cavalry  divided,  and 
the  greater  part,  moving  up  the  left  bank  of  the  brook  and 
crossing  at  a  ford  a  little  above,  took  the  road  of  the  Grange, 
as  it  was  called,  a  large  set  of  farm-offices  belonging  to  the 
Tower,  where  Lady  Margaret  had  ordered  preparation  to  be 
made  for  their  reception  and  suitable  entertainment.  The 
officers  alone,  with  their  colors  and  an  escort  to  guard  them, 
were  seen  to  take  the  steep  road  up  to  the  gate  of  the  Tower, 
appearing  by  intervals  as  they  gained  the  ascent,  and  again 
hidden  by  projections  of  the  bank  and  of  the  huge  old  trees 
with  which  it  is  covered.  When  they  emerged  from  this 
narrow  path  they  found  themselves  in  front  of  the  old  Tower, 
the  gates  of  which  were  hospitably  open  for  their  reception. 
Lady  Margaret,  with  Edith  and  her  brother-in-law,  having 
hastily  descended  from  their  post  of  observation,  appeared  to 
meet  and  to  welcome  their  guests,  with  a  retinue  of  domestics  in 
as  good  order  as  the  orgies  of  the  preceding  evening  permit- 
ted. The  gallant  young  cornet  (a  relation  as  well  as  namesake 
of  Claverhouse,  with  whom  the  reader  has  been  already  made 
acquainted)  lowered  the  standard,  amid  the  fanfare  of  the 
trumpets,  in  homage  to  the  rank  of  Lady  Margaret  and  the 
charms  of  her  granddaughter,  and  the  old  walls  echoed  to 
the  flourish  of  the  instruments  and  the  stamp  and  neigh  of 
the  chargers. 

Claverhouse  *  himself  alighted  from  a  black  horse,  the 
most  beautiful,  perhaps,  in  Scotland.  He  had  not  a  single 
white  hair  upon  his  whole  body,  a  circumstance  which,  joined 
to  his  spirit  and  fleetness,  and  to  his  being  so  frequently  em- 
ployed in  pursuit  of  the  Presbyterian  recusants,  caused  an 
opinion  to  prevail  among  them  that  the  steed  had  been  pre- 
sented to  his  rider  by  the  great  Enemy  of  Mankind  in  order 
to  assist  him  in  persecuting  the  fugitive  wanderers.  When 
Claverhouse  had  paid  his  respects  to  the  ladies  with  military 
politeness,  had  apologized  for  the  trouble  to  which  he  was 
putting  Lady  Margaret's  family,  and  had  received  the  cor- 
responding assurances  that  she  could  not  think  anything  an 
inconvenience  which  brought  within  the  walls  of  Tillietudlem 
so  distinguished  a  soldier  and  so  loyal  a  servant  of  his  sacred 
Majesty ,  when,  in  short,  all  forms  of  hospitable  and  polite 
ritual  had  been  duly  complied  with,  the  Colonel  requested 
permission  to  receive  the  report  of  Bothwell,  who  was  now  in 

*  See  John  Grahame  of  Claverhouse.    Note  20. 


OLD  MORTALITY  10» 

atbendance,  and  with  whom  he  spoke  apart  for  a  few  minutes. 
Major  Bellenden  took  that  opportunity  to  say  to  his  niece, 
without  the  hearing  of  her  grandmother,  *^  What  a  trifling 
foolish  girl  you  are,  Edith,  to  send  me  by  express  a  letter 
crammed  with  nonsense  about  books  and  gowns,  and  to  slide 
the  only  thing  I  cared  a  marvedi  about  into  the  postscript  V* 

*'  I  did  not  know,"*'  said  Edith,  hesitating  very  much, 
''  whether  it  would  be  quite — quite  proper  for  me  to " 

^'  I  know  what  you  would  say — whether  it  would  be  right 
to  take  any  interest  in  a  Presbyterian.  But  I  knew  this  lad^s 
father  well.  He  was  a  brave  soldier ;  and  if  he  was  once 
wrong,  he  was  once  right  too.  I  must  commend  your  caution, 
Edith,  for  having  said  nothing  of  this  young  gentleman^s 
affair  to  your  grandmother ;  you  may  rely  on  it  I  shall  not. 
I  will  take  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  Claver'se.  Come,  my 
love,  they  are  going  to  breakfast.     Let  us  follow  them.'' 


CHAPTER  XII 


Their  breakfast  so  warm  to  be  sure  they  did  eat, 
A  custom  in  travellers  mighty  discreet. 

Prior. 


The  breakfast  of  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  no  more  resem- 
bled a  modern  dejeune  than  the  great  stone  hall  at  Tillie- 

J  tudlem  could  brook  comparison  with  a  modern  drawing-room. 

•'  No  tea,  no  coffee,  no  variety  of  rolls,  but  solid  and  substan- 
tial viands — the  priestly  ham,  the  knightly  sirloin,  the  noble 
baron  of  beef,  the  princely  venison  pasty  ;  while  silver  flagons, 

\  saved  with  difficulty  from  the  claws  of  the  Covenanters,  now 
mantled,  some  with  ale,  some  with  mead,  and  some  with 
generous  wine  of  various  qualities  and  descriptions.  The 
appetites  of  the  guests  were  in  correspondence  to  the  mag- 
nificence and  solidity  of  the  preparation — no  piddling,  no 
boy^s  play,  but  that  steady  and  persevering  exercise  of  the 
Jaws  which  is  best  learned  by  early  morning  hours  and  by 
occasional  hard  commons. 

Lady  Margaret  beheld  with  delight  the  cates  which  she 
had  provided  descending  with  such  alacrity  into  the  persons 
of  her  honored  guests,  and  had  little  occasion  to  exercise,  with 
respect  to  any  of  the  company,  saving  Claverhouse  himself, 
the  compulsory  urgency  of  pressing  to  eat,  to  which,  as  to 
the  peine  forte  et  dure,  the  ladies  of  that  period  were  in  the 
custom  of  subjecting  their  guests. 

But  the  leader  himself,  more  anxious  to  pay  courtesy  to 
Miss  Bellenden,  next  whom  he  was  placed,  than  to  gratify 
his  appetite,  appeared  somewhat  negligent  of  the  good  cheer 
set  before  him.  Edith  heard  without  reply  many  courtly 
speeches  addressed  to  her  in  a  tone  of  voice  of  that  happy 
modulation  which  could  alike  melt  in  the  low  tones  of  inter- 
esting conversation  and  rise  amid  the  din  of  battle  "Jxiud  as 
a.  trumpet  with  a  silver  sound. ^'  The  sense  that  she  was  in 
the  presence  of  the  dreadful  chief  upon  whose  fiat  the  fate 
of  Henry  Morton  must  depend,  the  recollection  of  the  terror 
and  awe  which  were  attached  to  the  very  name  of  the  com- 
mander, deprived  her  for  some  time,  not  only  of  the  courage 


OLD  MORTALITY  111 

to  answer,  but  even  of  the  power  of  looking  upon  him.  But 
when,  emboldened  by  the  soothing  tones  of  his  voice,  she 
lifted  her  eyes  to  frame  some  reply,  the  person  on  whom  she 
looked  bore,  in  his  appearance  at  least,  none  of  the  terrible 
attributes  in  which  her  apprehensions  had  arrayed  him. 

Grahame  of  Claverhouse  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  rather 
low  of  stature,  and  slightly,  though  elegantly,  formed;  his 
gesture,  language,  and  manners  were  those  of  one  whose  life 
had  been  spent  among  the  noble  and  the  gay.  His  features 
exhibited  even  feminine  regularity.  An  oval  face,  a  straight 
and  well-formed  nose,  dark  hazel  eyes,  a  complexion  just  suf- 
ficiently tinged  with  brown  to  save  it  from  the  charge  of  ef- 
feminacy, a  short  upper  lip,  curved  upward  like  that  of  a  Gre- 
cian statue,  and  slightly  shaded  by  small  mustachios  of  light 
brown,  joined  to  a  profusion  of  long  curled  locks  of  the  same 
color,  which  fell  down  on  each  side  of  his  face,  contributed 
to  form  such  a  countenance  as  limners  love  to  paint  and  ladies 
to  look  upon. 

The  severity  of  his  character,  as  well  as  the  higher  attri- 
butes  of  undaunted  and  enterprising  valor,  which  even  his 
enemies  were  compelled  to  admit,  lay  concealed  under  an  ex-    A-^hif 
terior  which  seemed  adapted  to  the  court  or  the  saloon  rather  / 

than  to  the  field.     The  same  gentleness  and  gayety  of  expres-  -v. 

sion  which  reigned  in  his  features  seemed  to  inspire  his  actions 
and  gestures  ;  and,  on  the  whole,  he  was  generally  esteemed 
at  first  sight  rather  qualified  to  be  the  votary  of  pleasure  than 
of  ambition.  But  under  this  soft  exterior  was  hidden  a  spirit 
unbounded  in  daring  and  in  aspiring,  yet  cautious  and  pru- 
dent as  that  of  Machiavel  himself.  Profound  in  politics,  and 
imbued,  of  course,  with  that  disregard  for  individual  rights 
which  its  intrigues  usually  generate,  this  leader  was  cool  and 
collected  in  danger,  fierce  and  ardent  in  pursuing  success, 
careless  of  facing  death  himself,  and  ruthless  in  inflicting  it 
upon  others.  Such  are  the  characters  formed  in  times  of  civil 
discord,  when  the  highest  qualities,  perverted  by  party  spirit 
and  inflamed  by  habitual  opposition,  are  too  often  combined 
with  vices  and  excesses  which  deprive  them  at  once  of  their 
merit  and  of  their  lustre. 

In  endeavoring  to  reply  to  the  polite  trifles  with  which 
Claverhouse  accosted  her,  Edith  showed  so  much  confusion 
that  her  grandmother  thought  it  necessary  to  come  to  her 
relief. 

''  Edith  Bellenden,''  said  the  old  lady,  '^  has,  from  my  re- 
tired mode  of  living,  seen  so  little  of  those  of  her  own  sphere 
that  truly  she  can  hardly  f  ra.me  her  speech  to  suitable  answers. 


113  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

A  soldier  is  so  rare  a  sight  with  us.  Colonel  Grahame,  that, 
unless  it  be  my  young  Lord  Evandale,  we  have  hardly  had  an 
opportunity  of  receiving  a  gentleman  in  uniform.  And  now 
I  talk  of  that  excellent  young  nobleman,  may  I  inquire  if  I 
was  not  to  have  had  the  honor  of  seeing  him  this  morning 
with  the  regiment  ?  " 

''Lord  Evandale,  madam,  was  on  his  march  with  us,''  an- 
swered the  leader,  "  but  I  was  obliged  to  detach  him  with  a 
small  party  to  disperse  a  conventicle  of  those  troublesome 
scoundrels,  who  have  had  the  impudence  to  assemble  within 
jdve  miles  of  my  headquarters/' 

"Indeed !  "  said  the  old  lady;  "that  is  a  height  of  pre- 
sumption to  which  I  would  have  thought  no  rebellious  fanatics 
would  have  ventured  to  aspire.  But  these  are  strange  times  I 
There  is  an  evil  spirit  in  the  land.  Colonel  Grahame,  that  ex 
cites  the  vassals  of  persons  of  rank  to  rebel  against  the  very 
house  that  holds  and  feeds  them.  There  was  one  of  my  able- 
bodied  men  the  other  day  who  plainly  refused  to  attend  the 
wappenschaw  at  my  bidding.  Is  there  no  law  for  such  recu- 
sancy. Colonel  Grahame  ?  " 

"i  think  I  could  find  one,"  said  Claverhouse,  with  great 
composure,  "  if  your  ladyship  will  inform  me  of  the  name  and 
residence  of  the  culprit." 

"His  name,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "is  Cuthbert  Head- 
rigg ;  I  can  say  nothing  of  his  domicile,  for  ye  may  weel  be- 
lieve. Colonel  Grahame,  he  did  not  dwell  long  in  Tillietudlem, 
but  was  speedily  expelled  for  his  contumacy.  I  wish  the  lad 
no  severe  bodily  injury ;  but  incarceration,  or  even  a  few 
stripes,  would  be  a  good  example  in  this  neighborhood.  His 
mother,  under  whose  influence  I  doubt  he  acted,  is  an  ancient 
domestic  of  this  family,  which  makes  me  incline  to  mercy ; 
although,"  continued  the  old  lady,  looking  towards  the  pic- 
tures of  her  husband  and  her  sons,  with  which  the  wall  was 
hung,  and  heaving  at  the  same  time  a  deep  sigh,  "  I,  Colonel 
Grahame,  have  in  my  ain  person  but  little  right  to  compas- 
sionate that  stubborn  and  rebellious  generation.  They  have 
made  me  a  childless  widow,  and,  but  for  the  protection  of  our 
sacred  Sovereign  and  his  gallant  soldiers,  they  would  soon  de- 
prive me  of  lands  and  goods,  of  hearth  and  altar.  Seven  of 
my  tenants,  whose  joint  rent-mail  may  mount  to  well-nigh  a 
hundred  merks,  have  already  refused  to  pay  either  cess  or 
rent,  and  had  the  assurance  to  tell  my  steward  that  they  would 
acknowledge  neither  king  nor  landlord  but  who  should  have 
taken  the  Covenant." 

"  I  will  take  a  course  with  them — that  is,  with  your  lady- 


OLD  MORTALITY  113 

ship's  permission,"  answered  Claverhouse ;  "  it  would  ill  be- 
come me  to  neglect  the  support  of  lawful  authority  when  it  is 
lodged  in  such  worthy  hands  as  those  of  Lady  Margaret  Bel- 
lenden.  But  I  must  needs  say,  this  country  grows  worse  and 
worse  daily,  and  reduces  me  to  the  necessity  of  taking  meas- 
ures with  the  recusants  that  are  much  more  consonant  with 
my  duty  than  with  my  inclinations.  And  speaking  of  this,  I 
must  not  forget  that  I  have  to  thank  your  ladyship  for  the 
hospitality  you  have  been  pleased  to  extend  to  a  party  of  mine 
who  have  brought  in  a  prisoner  charged  with  having  resetted 
the  murdering  villain,  Balfour  of  Burley/' 

^'  The  house  of  Tillietudlem,'"'  answered  the  lady,  "  hath 
ever  been  open  to  the  servants  of  his  Majesty,  and  I  hope  that 
the  stones  of  it  will  no  longer  rest  on  each  other  when  it.jBur-  |v 
ceases  to  be  as  much  at  their  command  as  at  ours.  And  this  re- )  \ 
minds  me.  Colonel  Grahame, that  the  gentleman  who  commands 
the  party  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  in  his  proper  place  in  the 
army,  considering  whose  blood  flows  in  his  veins  ;  and  if  1 
might  flatter  myself  that  anything  would  be  granted  to  my 
request,  I  would  presume  to  entreat  that  he  might  be  pro- 
moted on  some  favorable  opportunity." 

*'  Your  ladyship  means  Sergeant  Francis  Stewart, whom  we 
call  Both  well  ?  "  said  Claverhouse,  smiling.  *'  The  truth  is,he 
is  a  little  too  rough  in  the  country,  and  has  not  been  uniformly 
80  amenable  to  discipline  as  the  rules  of  the  service  require. 
But  to  instruct  me  how  to  oblige  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  is 
to  lay  down  the  law  to  me.  Bothwell,"  he  continued,  ad- 
dressing the  sergeant,  who  just  then  appeared  at  the  door,  "  go 
kiss  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden's  hand,  who  interests  herself  in 
your  promotion,  and  you  shall  have  a  commission  the  first  va- 
cancy." 

Bothwell  went  through  the  salutation  in  the  manner  pre- 
scribed, but  not  without  evident  marks  of  haughty  reluctance, 
and  when  he  had  done  so,  said  aloud,  '^  To  kiss  a  lady^s  hand 
can  never  disgrace  a  gentleman  ;  but  I  would  not  kiss  a  man's, 
save  the  king's,  to  be  made  a  general." 

'*  You  hear  him,"  said  Claverhouse,  smiling,  '^  there's  the 
rock  he  splits  upon  :  he  cannot  forget  his  pedigree." 

''  I  know,  my  noble  colonel,"  said  Bothwell,  in  the  same 
tone,  "  that  you  will  not  lorget  your  promise ;  and  then  per- 
haps you  may  permit  Cornet  Stewart  to  have  some  recollec- 
tion of  his  grandfather,  though  the  Sergeant  must  forget 
him." 

*'  Enough  of  this,  sir,"  said  Claverhouse,  in  the  tone  ol 


lU  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

command  which  was  familiar  to  him,  ''and  let  me  know  wnat 
yoa  came  to  report  to  me  just  now/' 

'*  My  Lord  Evandale  and  his  party  have  halted  on  the  high- 
road with  some  prisoners/'  said  Bothwell. 

"My  Lord  Evandale?"  said  Lady  Margaret.  "Surely, 
Colonel  Grahame,  you  will  permit  him  to  honor  me  with  his 
society,  and  to  take  his  poor  disjune  here,  especially  consider- 
ing that  even  his  most  sacred  Majesty  did  not  pass  the  Tower 
of  Tillietudlem  without  halting  to  partake  of  some  refresh- 
ment/' 

As  this  was  the  third  time  in  the  course  of  the  conversation 
that  Lady  Margaret  had  adverted  to  this  distinguished  event. 
Colonel  Grahame,  as  speedily  as  politeness  would  permit,  took 
advantage  of  the  first  pause  to  interrupt  the  further  progress 
of  the  narrative,  by  saying,  "  We  are  already  too  numerous  a 
party  of  guests ;  but  as  I  know  what  Lord  Evandale  will  suffer 
[looking  towards  Edith]  if  deprived  of  the  pleasure  which  we 
enjoy,  I  will  run  the  risk  of  overburdening  your  ladyship's 
hospitality.  Bothwell,  let  Lord  Evandale  know  that  Lady 
Margaret  Bellenden  requests  the  honor  of  his  company." 

"And  let  Harrison  take  care,"  added  Lady  Margaret, 
*'that  the  people  and  their  horses  are  suitably  seen  to." 

Edith's  heart  sprung  to  her  lips  during  this  conversation  ; 
for  it  instantly  occurred  to  her  that,  through  her  influence  over 
Lord  Evandale,  she  might  find  some  means  of  releasing  Morton 
from  his  present  state  of  danger,  in  case  her  uncle's  intercession 
with  Claverhouse  should  prove  ineffectual.  At  any  other  time 
she  would  have  been  much  averse  to  exert  this  influence  ;  for, 
however  inexperienced  in  the  world,  her  native  delicacy  taught 
her  the  advantage  which  a  beautiful  young  woman  gives  to  a 
young  man  when  she  permits  him  to  lay  her  under  an  obliga- 
tion. And  she  would  have  been  the  further  disinclined  to  re- 
quest any  favor  of  Lord  Evandale,  because  the  voice  of  the 
gossips  in  Clydesdale  had,  for  reasons  hereafter  to  be  made 
known,  assigned  him  to  her  as  a  suitor,  and  because  she  could 
not  disguise  from  herself  that  very  little  encouragement  was 
necessary  to  realize  conjectures  which  had  hitherto  no  founda- 
tion. This  was  the  more  to  be  dreaded  that,  in  the  case  of 
Lord  Evandale's  making  a  formal  declaration,  he  had  every 
chance  of  being  supported  by  the  influence  of  Lady  Margaret 
and  her  other  friends,  and  that  she  would  have  nothing  to  oppose 
to  their  solicitations  and  authority,  except  a  predilection,  to 
avow  which  she  knew  would  be  equally  dangerous  and  unavail- 
ing. She  determined,  therefore,  to  wait  the  issue  of  her  un- 
cle's intercession,  and  should  it  fail,  'vhich  she  conjectured  shb 


OLD  MORTALITY  118 

should  soon  learn,  either  from  the  looks  or  language  of  the 
open-hearted  veteran,  she  would  then,  as  a  last  effort,  make 
use  in  Morton's  favor  of  her  interest  with  Lord  Evandale. 
Her  mind  did  not  long  remain  in  suspense  on  the  subject  of 
her  uncle's  application. 

Major  Bellenden,  who  had  done  the  honors  of  the  table, 
laughing  and  chatting  with  the  military  guests  who  were  at 
that  end  of  the  board,  was  now,  by  the  conclusion  of  the  repast, 
at  liberty  to  leave  his  station,  and  accordingly  took  an  oppor- 
tunity to  approach  Claverhouse,  requesting  from  his  niece, 
at  the  same  time,  the  honor  of  a  particular  introduction.  As 
his  name  and  character  were  well  known,  the  two  military  men 
met  with  expressions  of  mutual  regard  ;  and  Edith,  with  a 
beating  heart,  saw  her  aged  relative  withdraw  from  the  com- 
pany, together  with  his  new  acquaintance,  into  a  recess  formed 
by  one  of  the  arched  windows  of  the  hall.  She  watched  their 
conference  with  eyes  almost  dazzled  by  the  eagerness  of  suspense, 
and,  with  observation  rendered  more  acute  by  the  internal 
agony  of  her  mind,  could  guess  from  the  pantomimic  gestures 
which  accompanied  the  conversation  the  progress  and  fate  of 
the  intercession  in  behalf  of  Henry  Morton. 

The  first  expression  of  the  countenance  of  Claverhouse 
betokened  that  open  and  willing  courtesy  which,  ere  it  requires 
to  know  the  nature  of  the  favor  asked,  seems  to  say,  how 
happy  the  party  will  be  to  confer  an  obligation  on  the  suppliant. 
But  as  the  conversation  proceeded  the  brow  of  that  officer 
became  darker  and  more  severe,  and  his  features,  though  still 
retaining  the  expression  of  the  most  perfect  politeness,  as- 
sumed, at  least  to  Edith's  terrified  imagination,  a  harsh  and 
inexorable  character.  His  lip  was  now  compressed  as  if  with 
impatience,  now  curled  slightly  upward,  as  if  in  civil  con- 
tempt of  the  arguments  urged  by  Major  Bellenden.  The 
language  of  her  uncle,  as  far  as  expressed  in  his  manner,  ap- 
peared to  be  that  of  earnest  intercession,  urged  with  all  the 
affectionate  simplicity  of  his  character,  as  well  as  with  the 
weight  which  his  age  and  reputation  entitled  him  to  use.  But 
it  seemed  to  have  little  impression  upon  Colonel  Grahame, 
who  soon  changed  his  posture,  as  if  about  to  cut  short  the 
Major's  importunity,  and  to  break  up  their  conference  with 
a  courtly  expression  of  regret,  calculated  to  accompany  a  posi- 
tive refusal  of  the  request  solicited.  This  movement  brought 
them  so  near  Edith  that  she  could  distinctly  hear  Claverhouse 
say,  "■  It  cannot  be,  Major  Bellenden ;  lenity,  in  his  case,  is 
altogether  beyond  the  bounds  of  my  commission,  though  in 
anything  else  I  am  heartily  desirous  to  oblige  you.     And  here 


116  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

comes  Evandale  with  news,  as  I  think.  What  tidings  do  you 
bring  us,  Evandale  ? "  he  continued,  addressing  the  young 
lord,  who  now  entered  in  complete  uniform,  but  with  his 
dress  disordered  and  his  boots  spattered,  as  if  by  riding  hard. 

''  Unpleasant  news,  sir,"  was  his  reply.  *'  A  large  body 
of  Whigs  are  in  arms  among  the  hills,  and  have  broken  out 
into  actual  rebellion.  They  have  publicly  burnt  the  Aci-of 
Supremacy,  that  which  established  episcopacy,  that  for  ob- 
serving the  martyrdom  of  Charles  I.,  and  some  others,  and 
have  declared  their  intention  to  remain  together  in  arms  for 
furthering  the  covenanted  work  of  reformation." 

This  unexpected  intelligence  struck  a  sudden  and  painful 
surprise  into  the  minds  of  all  who  heard  it,  excepting  Claver- 
house. 

"Unpleasant  news  call  you  them  ?"  replied  Colonel  Gra- 
hame,  his  dark  eyes  flashing  fire ;  "  they  are  the  best  I  have 
heard  these  six  months.  Now  that  the  scoundrels  are  drawn 
into  a  body,  we  will  make  short  work  with  them.  AVhen  the 
adder  crawls  into  daylight,"  he  added,  striking  the  heel  of  his 
boot  upon  the  floor,  as  if  in  the  act  of  crushing  a  noxious  rep- 
tile, "I  can  trample  him  to  death ;  he  is  only  safe  when  he 
remains  lurking  in  his  den  or  morass.  Where  are  these 
knaves  ?  "  he  continued,  addressing  Lord  Evandale. 

"About  ten  miles  off  among  the  mountains,  at  a  place 
called  Loudon  Hill,"  was  the  young  nobleman's  reply.  "  I 
dispersed  the  conventicle  against  which  you  sent  me,  and 
made  prisoner  an  old  trumpeter  of  rebellion — an  intercom- 
muned  minister,  that  is  to  say — who  was  in  the  act  of  exhort- 
ing his  hearers  to  rise  and  be  doing  in  the  good  cause,  as  well 
as  one  or  two  of  his  hearers  who  seemed  to  be  particularly  in- 
solent ;  and  from  some  country  people  and  scouts  I  learned 
what  I  now  tell  you." 

"What  may  be  their  strength  ?"  asked  his  commander. 

"  Probably  a  thousand  men  ;  but  accounts  differ  widely.** 

"Then,"  said  Claverhouse,  "  it  is  time  for  us  to  be  up  and 
be  doing  also.     Both  well,  bid  them  sound  to  horse." 

Both  well,  who,  like  the  war-horse  of  Scripture,  snuffed  the 
battle  afar  off,  hastened  to  give  orders  to  six  negroes  in  white 
dresses  richly  laced,  and  having  massive  silver  collars  and  arm- 
lets. These  sable  functionaries  acted  as  trumpeters,  and 
speedily  made  the  castle  and  the  woods  around  it  ring  with 
their  summons. 

"Must  you  then  leave  us?"  said  Lady  Margaret,  her 
heart  sinking  under  recollection  of  former  unhappy  times  ; 
**  had  ye  not  better  send  to  learn  the  force  of  the  rebels  ? 


OLD  MORTALITY  117 

0,  now  many  a  fair  face  hae  I  heard  these  fearfu'  sounds  call 
away  frae  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem  that  my  auld  een  were 
ne^er  to  see  return  to  it ! " 

"It  is  impossible  for  me  to  stop,"  said  Claverhouse ; 
"  there  are  rogues  enough  in  this  country  to  make  the  rebels 
five  times  their  strength  if  they  are  not  checked  at  once." 

"Many,"  said  Evandale,  "are  flocking  to  them  already, 
and  they  give  out  that  they  expect  a  strong  body  of  the  in- 
dulged Presbyterians,  headed  by  young  Milnwood,  fts  they 
call  him,  the  son  of  the  famous  old  Roundhead,  Colonel  Silas 
Morton." 

This  speech  produced  a  very  different  effect  upon  the 
hearers.  Edith  almost  sunk  from  her  seat  with  terror,  while 
Claverhouse  darted  a  glance  of  sarcastic  triumph  at  Major 
Bellenden,  which  seemed  to  imply,  "  You  see  wliat  are  the 
principles  of  the  young  man  you  are  pleading  for." 

"  It's  a  lie — it's  a  d — d  lie  of  these  rascally  fanatics,"  said 
the  Major,  hastily.  "I  will  answer  for  Henry  Morton  as  I 
would  for  my  own  son.  He  is  a  lad  of  as  good  church  principles 
as  any  gentleman  in  the  Life  Guards.  I  mean  no  offence  to 
any  one.  He  has  gone  to  church  service  with  me  fifty  times, 
and  I  never  heard  him  miss  one  of  the  responses  in  my  life. 
Edith  Bellenden  can  bear  witness  to  it  as  well  as  I.  He  al- 
ways read  on  the  same  Prayer  Book  with  her,  and  could  look 
out  the  lessons  as  well  as  the  curate  himself.  Call  him  up  ; 
let  him  be  heard  for  himself." 

"There  can  be  no  harm  in  that,"  said  Claverhouse, 
"  whether  he  be  innocent  or  guilty.  Major  Allan,"  he  said, 
turning  to  the  officer  next  in  command,  "  take  a  guide,  and 
lead  the  regiment  forward  to  Loudon  Hill  by  the  best  and 
shortest  road.  Move  steadily,  and  do  not  let  the  men  blow 
the  horses  ;  Lord  Evandale  and  I  will  overtake  you  in  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour.  Leave  Bothwell  with  a  party  to  bring  up 
the  prisoners." 

Allan  bowed  and  left  the  apartment  with  all  the  oflBcers, 
excepting  Claverhouse  and  the  young  nobleman.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  sound  of  the  military  music  and  the  clashing  of 
hoofs  announced  that  the  horsemen  were  leaving  the  castle. 
The  sounds  were  presently  heard  only  at  intervals,  and  soon 
died  away  entirely. 

While  Claverhouse  endeavored  to  soothe  the  terrors  of 
Lady  Margaret,  and  to  reconcile  the  veteran  Major  to  his 
opinion  of  Morton,  Evandale,  getting  the  better  of  that  con- 
scious shyness  which  renders  an  ingenuous  youth  diffident  in 
approaching  the  object  of  his  affections,  drew,  near  to  Misa 


11«  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Bellenden  and  accosted  her  in  a  tone  of  mingled  respect  and 
interest. 

"We  are  to  leave  you,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  which 
he  pressed  with  much  emotion — "to  leave  you  for  a  scene 
which  is  not  without  its  dangers.  Farewell,  dear  Miss  Bel- 
lenden ;  let  me  say  for  the  first  and  perhaps  the  last  time, 
dear  Edith  !  We  part  in  circumstances  so  singular  as  may 
excuse  some  solemnity  in  bidding  farewell  to  one  whom  1 
have  known  so  long  and  whom  I — respect  so  highly." 

The  manner,  differing  from  the  words,  seemed  to  express 
a  feeling  much  deeper  and  more  agitating  than  was  conveyed 
in  the  phrase  he  made  use  of.  It  was  not  in  woman  to  be 
utterly  insensible  to  his  modest  and  deep-felt  expression  of 
tenderness.  Although  borne  down  by  the  misfortunes  and 
imminent  danger  of  the  man  she  loved,  Edith  was  touched 
by  the  hopeless  and  reverential  passion  of  the  gallant  youth 
who  now  took  leave  of  her  to  rush  into  dangers  of  no  ordinary 
description. 

"  I  hope — I  sincerely  trust,"  she  said,  "  there  is  no  danger. 
I  hope  there  is  no  occasion  for  this  solemn  ceremonial ;  that 
these  hasty  insurgents  will  be  dispersed  rather  by  fear  than 
force,  and  that  Lord  Evandale  will  speedily  return  to  be  what 
he  must  always  be,  the  dear  and  valued  friend  of  all  in  this 
castle." 

"  Of  all?"  he  repeated,  with  a  melancholy  emphasis  upon 
the  word.  "  But  be  it  so  ;  whatever  is  near  you  is  dear  and 
valued  to  me,  and  I  value  their  approbation  accordingly. 
Of  our  success  I  am  not  sanguine.  Our  numbers  are  so  few 
that  I  dare  not  hope  for  so  speedy,  so  bloodless,  or  so  safe  an 
end  of  this  unhappy  disturbance.  These  men  are  enthusias- 
tic, resolute,  and  desperate,  and  have  leaders  not  altogether 
unskilled  in  military  matters.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that 
the  impetuosity  of  our  Colonel  is  hurrying  us  against  them 
rather  prematurely.  But  there  are  few  that  have  less  reason 
to  shun  danger  than  I  have." 

Edith  had  now  the  opportunity  she  wished  to  bespeak  the 
young  nobleman's  intercession  and  protection  for  Henry  Mor- 
ton, and  it  seemed  the  only  remaining  channel  of  interest  by 
which  he  could  be  rescued  from  impending  destruction. 
Yet  she  felt  at  that  moment  as  if,  in  doing  so,  she  was  abus- 
ing the  partiality  and  confidence  of  the  lover  whose  heart  was 
as  open  before  her  as  if  his  tongue  had  made  an  express  dec- 
laration. Could  she  with  lienor  engage  Lord  Evandale  in 
the  service  of  a  rival  ?  or  could  she  with  prudence  make  him 
any  request,  or  lay  herself  under  any  obligation  to  him,  with- 


OLD  MORTALITY  119 

out  affording  ground  for  hopes  which  she  could  never  realize? 
But  the  moment  was  too  urgent  for  hesitation,  or  even  for 
those  explanations  with  which  her  request  might  otherwise 
have  been  qualified. 

"  I  will  but  dispose  of  this  young  fellow,"  said  Claverhouse 
from  the  other  side  of  the  hall,  ^'  and  then.  Lord  Evandale — 
I  am  sorry  to  interrupt  again  your  conversation — but  then 
we  must  mount.  Both  well,  why  do  not  you  bring  up  the 
prisoner  ?  and,  hark  ye,  let  two  files  load  their  carabines." 

In  these  words  Edith  conceived  she  heard  the  death-war- 
rant of  her  lover.  She  instantly  broke  through  the  restraint 
which  had  hitherto  kept  her  silent. 

"  My  Lord  Evandale,"  she  said,  "  this  young  gentleman  is 
a  particular  friend  of  my  uncle's  ;  your  interest  must  be  great 
with  your  Colonel ;  let  me  request  your  intercession  in  his 
favor  ;  it  will  confer  on  my  uncle  a  lasting  obligation." 

"  You  overrate  my  interest.  Miss  Bellenden,"  said  Lord 
Evandale ',  "1  have  been  often  unsuccessful  in  such  applica- 
tions when  I  have  made  them  on  the  mere  score  of  humanity." 

*' Yet  try  once  again  for  my  uncle's  sake." 

"  And  why  not  for  your  own  ? "  said  Lord  Evandale. 
"  Will  you  not  allow  me  to  think  I  am  obliging  you  personally 
in  this  matter  ?  Are  you  so  diffident  of  an  old  friend  that 
you  will  not  allow  him  even  the  satisfaction  of  thinking  that 
he  is  gratifying  your  wishes  ? " 

"  Surely,  surely,"  replied  Edith  ;  "  you  will  oblige  me  in- 
finitely. I  am  interested  in  the  young  gentleman  on  my 
uncle's  account.     Lose  no  time  for  God's  sake  ! " 

She  became  bolder  and  more  urgent  in  her  entreaties,  for 
she  heard  the  steps  of  the  soldiers  who  were  entering  with 
their  prisoner. 

"By  heaven  !  then,"  said  Evandale,  "he  shall  not  die  if 
I  should  die  in  his  place  !  But  will  not  you,"  he  said,  re- 
suming the  hand  which  in  the  hurry  of  her  spirits  she  had 
not  courage  to  withdraw — "  will  not  you  grant  me  one  suit 
in  return  for  my  zeal  in  your  service  ?  " 

"  Anything  you  can  ask,  my  Lord  Evandale,  that  sisterly 
affection  can  give." 

"And  is  this  all,"  he  continued — "all  you  can  grant  to 
my  affection  living,  or  my  memory  when  dead  ? " 

"  Do  not  speak  thus,  my  lord,"  said  Edith,  "  you  distress 
me,  and  do  injustice  to  yourself.  There  is  no  friend  I  esteem 
more  highly,  or  to  whom  I  would  more  readily  grant  every 
mark  of  regard — providing — but " 

A  deep  sigh  made  her  turn  her  head  suddenly  ere  she  had 


120  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

well  uttered  the  last  word ;  and  as  she  hesitated  how  to  frame 
the  exception  with  which  she  meant  to  close  the  sentence,  she 
became  instantly  aware  she  had  been  overheard  by  Morton, 
who,  heavily  ironed  and  guarded  by  soldiers,  was  now  passing 
behind  her  in  order  to  be  presented  to  Olaverhouse.  As  their 
eyes  met  each  other,  the  sad  and  reproachful  expression  of 
Morton's  glance  seemed  to  imply  that  he  had  partially  heard 
and  altogether  misinterpreted  the  conversation  which  had 
just  passed.  There  wanted  but  this  to  complete  Edith's  dis- 
tress and  confusion.  Her  blood,  which  rusned  to  her  brow, 
made  a  sudden  revulsion  to  her  heart,  and  left  her  as  pale  as 
death.  This  change  did  not  escape  the  attention  of  Evan- 
dale,  whose  quick  glance  easily  discovered  that  there  was  be- 
tween the  prisoner  and  the  object  of  his  own  attachment  some 
singular  and  uncommon  connection.  He  resigned  the  hand 
of  Miss  Bellenden,  again  surveyed  the  prisoner  with  more 
attention,  again  looked  at  Edith,  and  plainly  observed  the 
confusion  which  she  could  no  longer  conceal. 

"  This,"  he  said,  after  a  moment's  gloomy  silence,  "is,  I 
believe,  the  young  gentleman  who  gained  the  prize  at  the 
shooting  match." 

*'  I  am  not  sure,"  hesitated  Edith  ;  ''yet — I  rather  think 
not,"  scarce  knowing  what  she  replied. 

''  It  is  he,"  said  Evandale,  decidedly  ;  "  I  know  him  well. 
A  victor,"  he  continued,  somewhat  haughtily,  "ought  to  have 
interested  a  fair  spectator  more  deeply." 

He  then  turned  from  Edith,  and  advancing  towards  the 
table  at  which  Olaverhouse  now  placed  himself,  stood  at  a  little 
distance,  resting  on  his  sheathed  broadsword,  a  silent,  but  not 
an  unconcerned,  spectator  of  that  which  passed. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

O,  my  Lord,  beware  of  jealousy  I 

Othello. 

To  explain  the  deep  effect  which  the  few  broken  passages  of 
the  conversation  we  have  detailed  made  npon  the  unfortunate 
prisoner  by  whom  they  were  overheard,  it  is  necessary  to  say 
something  of  his  previous  state  of  mind,  and  of  the  origin  of 
his  acquaintance  with  Edith. 

Henry  Morton  was  one  of  those  gifted  characters  which 
possess  a  force  of  talent  unsuspected  by  the  owner  himself. 
He  had  inherited  from  his  father  an  undaunted  courage  and 
a  firm  and  uncompromising  detestation  of  oppression,  whether 
in  politics  or  religion.  But  his  enthusiasm  was  unsullied  by 
fanatic  zeal  and  unleavened  by  the  sourness  of  the  Puritan- 
ical spirit.  From  these  his  mind  had  been  freed,  partly  by 
the  active  exertions  of  his  own  excellent  understanding,  partly 
by  frequent  and  long  visits  at  Major  Bellenden's,  whe.e  he 
had  an  opportunity  of  meeting  with  many  guests  whose  con- 
versation taught  him  that  goodness  and  worth  were  not  lim- 
ited to  those  of  any  single  form  of  religious  observance. 

The  base  parsimony  of  his  uncle  had  thrown  many  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  his  education  ;  but  he  had  so  far  improved  the 
opportunities  which  offered  themselves,  that  his  instructors 
as  well  as  his  friends  were  surprised  at  his  progress  under  such 
disadvantages.  Still,  however,  the  current  of  his  soul  was 
frozen  by  a  sense  of  dependence,  of  poverty,  above  all,  of  an 
imperfect  and  limited  education.  These  feelings  impressed 
him  with  a  diffidence  and  reserve  which  effectually  concealed 
from  all  but  very  intimate  friends  the  extent  of  talent  and  the 
firmness  of  character  which  we  have  stated  him  to  be  pos- 
sessed of.  The  circumstances  of  the  times  had  added  to  this 
reserve  an  air  of  indecision  and  of  indifference  ;  for,  being 
attached  to  neither  of  the  factions  which  divided  the  kingdom, 
he  passed  for  dull,  insensible,  and  uninfluenced  by  the  feeling 
of  religion  or  of  patriotism.  No  conclusion,  however,  could 
be  more  unjust  ;  and  the  reasons  of  the  neutrality  which  he 
had  hitherto  professed  had  root  in  very  different  and  most 
praiseworthy  motives.     He  had  formed  few  congenial  tiee 

m 


122  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

with  those  who  were  the  objects  of  persecution,  and  was  dis- 
gusted alike  by  their  narrow-minded  and  selfish  party  spirit, 
their  gloomy  fanaticism,  their  abhorrent  condemnation  of  all 
elegant  studies  or  innocent  exercises,  and  the  envenomed 
rancor  of  their  political  hatred.  But  his  mind  was  still  more 
revolted  by  the  tyrannical  and  oppressive  conduct  of  the  govern- 
ment, the  misrule,  license,  and  brutality  of  the  soldiery,  the 
executions  on  the  scaffold,  the  slaughters  in  the  open  field, 
the  free  quarters  and  exactions  imposed  by  military  law, 
which  placed  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  a  free  people  on  a  level 
with  Asiatic  slaves.  Condemning,  therefore,  each  party  as 
its  excesses  fell  under  his  eyes,  disgusted  with  the  sight  of 
evils  which  he  had  no  means  of  alleviating,  and  hearing 
alternate  complaints  and  exultations  with  which  he  could  not 
sympathize,  he  would  long  ere  this  have  left  Scotland  had  it 
not  been  for  his  attachment  to  Edith  Bellenden. 

The  earlier  meetings  of  these  young  people  had  been  at 
Charnwood,  when  Major  Bellenden,  who  was  as  free  from  sus- 
picion on  such  occasions  as  Uncle  Toby  himself,  had  encour- 
aged their  keeping  each  other  constant  company  without 
entertaining  any  apprehension  of  the  natural  consequences. 
Love,  as  usual  in  such  cases,  borrowed  the  name  of  friend- 
ship, used  her  language,  and  claimed  her  privileges.  When 
Edith  Bellenden  was  recalled  to  her  [grand  J  mother's  castle,  it 
was  astonishing  by  what  singular  and  recurring  accidents  she 
often  met  young  Morton  in  her  sequestered  walks,  especially 
considering  the  distance  of  their  places  of  abode.  Yet  it  some- 
how happened  that  she  never  expressed  the  surprise  which  the 
frequency  of  i\\Q?,Q  rencontres  ought  naturally  to  have  excited, 
and  that  their  intercourse  assumed  gradually  a  more  delicate 
character,  and  their  meetings  began  to  wear  the  air  of  ap- 
pointments. Books,  drawings,  letters,  were  exchanged  between 
them,  and  every  trifling  commission  given  or  executed  gave 
rise  to  a  new  correspondence.  Love  indeed  was  not  yet  men- 
tioned between  them  by  name,  but  each  knew  the  situatici 
of  their  own  bosom,  and  could  not  but  guess  at  that  of  the 
other.  Unable  to  desist  from  an  intercourse  which  possessed 
such  charms  for  both,  yet  trembling  for  its  too  probable  con- 
sequences, it  had  been  continued  without  specific  explanation 
until  now,  when  fate  appeared  to  have  taken  the  conclusion 
into  its  own  hands. 

It  followed,  as  a  consequence  of  this  state  of  things,  as  well 
as  of  the  diffidence  of  Morton's  disposition  at  this  period,  that 
his  confidence^in  Edith's  return  of  his  affection  had  its  oc- 
casional cold  fits.     Her  situation  was  in  every  respect  bo  31. 


OLD  MORTALITY  IBS 

perior  to  his  own,  her  worth  so  eminent,  her  accomplishmenta 
80  many,  her  face  so  beautiful,  and  her  manners  so  bewitch- 
ing, that  he  could  not  but  entertain  fears  that  some  suitor 
more  favored  than  himself  by  fortune,  and  more  acceptable 
to  Edith^'s  family  than  he  durst  hope  to  be,  might  step  in  be- 
tween him  and  the  object  of  his  affections.  Common  rumor 
had  raised  up  such  a  rival  in  Lord  Evandale,  whom  birth, 
fortune,  connections,  and  political  principles,  as  well  as  his 
frequent  visits  at  Tillietudlem,  and  his  attendance  upon  Lady 
Bellenden  and  her  niece  at  all  public  places,  naturally  pointed 
out  as  a  candidate  for  her  favor.  It  frequently  and  inevitably  . 
happened  that  engagements  to  which  Lord  Evandale  was  a 
party  interfered  with  the  meeting  of  the  lovers,  and  Henry 
could  not  but  mark  that  Edith  either  studiously  avoided  speak- 
ing of  the  young  nobleman,  or  did  so  with  obvious  reserve  and 
hesitation. 

These  symptoms,  which  in  fact  arose  from  the  delicacy  of 
her  own  feelings  towards  Morton  himself,  were  misconstrued 
by  his  diffident  temper,  and  the  jealousy  which  they  excited 
was  fermented  by  the  occasional  observations  of  Jenny  Den- 
nison.  This  true-bred  serving-damsel  was,  in  her  own  person, 
a  complete  country  coquette,  and  when  she  had  no  opportu- 
nity of  teasing  her  own  lovers,  used  to  take  some  occasional  op- 
portunity to  torment  her  young  lady's.  This  arose  from  no 
ill-will  to  Henry  Morton,  who,  both  on  her  mistress's  account 
and  his  own  handsome  form  and  countenance,  stood  high  in 
her  esteem.  But  then  Lord  Evandale  was  also  handsome ;  he 
was  liberal  far  beyond  what  Morton's  means  could  afford,  and 
he  was  a  lord,  moreover,  and  if  Miss  Edith  Bellenden  should 
accept  his  hand  she  would  become  a  baron's  lady,  and,  what 
was  more,  little  Jenny  Dennison,  whom  the  awful  housekeeper 
at  Tillietudlem  huffed  about  at  her  pleasure,  would  be  then 
Mrs.  Dennison,  Lady  Evandale's  own  woman,  or  perhaps  her  , 
ladyship's  lady-in-waiting.  The  impartiality  of  Jenny  Den-  \\\ 
nison,  therefore,  did  not,  like  that  of  Mrs.  Quickly,  extend  ^ 
to  a  wish  that  both  the  handsome  suitors  could  wed  her 
young  lady ;  for  it  must  be  owned  that  the  scale  of  her  regard 
was  depressed  in  favor  of  Lord  Evandale,  and  her  wishes  in 
his  favor  took  many  shapes  extremely  tormenting  to  Morton  ; 
being  now  expressed  as  a  friendly  caution,  now  as  an  article 
of  intelligence,  and  anon  as  a  merry  jest,  but  always  tending 
to  confirm  the  idea  that  sooner  or  later  his  romantic  inter- 
'jourse  with  her  young  mistress  must  have  a  close,  and  that 
Edith  Bellenden  would;  in  spite  of  summer^^alks  beneath 


\ 


184  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  greenwood  tree,  exchange  of  verses,  of  drawings,  and  of 
books,  end  in  becoming  Lady  Evandale. 

These  hints  coincided  so  exactly  with  the  very  point  of  his 
own  suspicions  and  fears,  that  Morton  was  not  long  of  feeling 
that  jealousy  which  every  one  has  felt  who  has  truly  loved, 
but  to  which  those  are  most  liable  whose  love  is  crossed  by  the 
want  of  friends'  consent,  or  some  other  envious  impediment 
of  fortune.  Edith  herself  unwittingly,  and  in  the  generosity 
of  her  own  frank  nature,  contributed  to  the  error  into  which 
her  lover  was  in  danger  of  falling.  Their  conversation  once 
.chanced  to  turn  upon  some  late  excesses  committed  by  the 
soldiery  on  an  occasion  when  it  was  said  (inaccurately,  how- 
ever) that  the  party  was  commanded  by  Lord  Evandale.  Edith, 
as  true  in  friendship,  as  in  love,  was  somewhat  hurt  at  th© 
severe  strictures  which  escaped  from  Morton  on  this  occasion, 
and  which,  perhaps,  were  not  the  less  strongly  expressed  on 
account  of  their  supposed  rivalry.  She  entered  into  Lord 
Evandale's  defence  with  such  spirit  as  hurt  Morton  to  the 
very  soul,  and  afforded  no  small  delight  to  Jenny  Dennison, 
the  usual  companion  of  their  walks.  Edith  perceived  her 
error,  and  endeavored  to  remedy  it ;  but  the  impression  was 
not  so  easily  erased,  and  it  had  no  small  effect  in  inducing 
her  lover  to  form  that  resolution  of  going  abroad  which  was 
disappointed  in  the  manner  we  have  already  mentioned. 

The  visit  which  he  received  from  Edith  during  his  confine- 
ment, the  deep  and  devoted  interest  which  she  had  expressed 
in  his  fate,  ought  of  themselves  to  have  dispelled  his  suspi- 
cions ;  yet,  ingenious  in  tormenting  himself,  even  this  he 
thought  might  be  imputed  to  anxious  friendship,  or  at  most 
to  a  temporary  partiality,  which  would  probably  soon  give 
way  to  circumstances,  the  entreaties  of  her  friends,  the  au- 
thority of  Lady  Margaret,  and  the  assiduities  of  Lord  Evan- 
dale. 

"  And  to  what  do  I  owe  it,'*  he  said,  '''  that  I  cannot  stand 
np  like  a  man  and  plead  my  interest  in  her  ere  I  am  thus 
cheated  out  of  it  ?  to  what  but  to  the  all-pervading  and  ac- 
cursed tyranny  which  afiBlicts  at  once  our  bodies,  souls,  estates, 
and  affections  ?  And  is  it  to  one  of  the  pensioned  cutthroats 
of  this  oppressive  government  that  I  must  yield  my  pretensions 
to  Edith  Bellenden  ?  I  will  not,  by  Heaven  !  It  is  a  just 
punishment  on  me  for  being  dead  to  public  wrongs  that  they 
have  visited  me  with  their  injuries  in  a  point  where  they  can 
be  least  brooked  or  borne." 

As  these  stormy  resolutions  boiled  in  his  bosom,  and  while 
he  ran  over  the  various  kinds  of  insult  and  injury  which  he 


OLD  MORTALITY  125 

had  sustained  in  his  own  cause  and  in  that  of  his  country. 
Both  well  entered  the  tower,  followed  by  two  dragoons,  one  of 
whom  carried  handcuffs. 

''  You  must  follow  me,  young  man,"  said  he,  ''but  first  we 
must  put  you  in  trim." 

*'  In  trim  !  "  said  Morton.     "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  we  must  put  pn  these  rough  bracelets.  I  durstnot 
— ^nay,  d — n  it,  I  durst  do  anything — but  I  would  not  for 
three  hours*  plunder  of  a  stormed  town  bring  a  AVhig  before 
my  Colonel  without  his  being  ironed.  Come,  come,  young 
man,  don't  look  sulky  about  it." 

He  advanced  to  put  on  the  irons  ;  but,  seizing  the  oaken 
seat  upon  which  he  had  rested,  Morton  threatened  to  dash  out 
the  brains  of  the  first  who  should  approach  him. 

'*  I  could  manage  you  in  a  moment,  my  youngster,"  said 
Both  well,  "  but  I  had  rather  you  would  strike  sail  quietly." 

Here  indeed  he  spoke  the  truth,  not  from  either  fear  or 
reluctance  to  adopt  force,  but  because  he  dreaded  the  con- 
sequences of  a  noisy  scuffle,  through  which  it  might  probably 
be  discovered  that  he  had,  contrary  to  express  orders,  suffered 
his  prisoner  to  pass  the  night  without  being  properly  secured. 

*'  You  had  better  be  prudent,"  he  continued,  in  a  tone 
which  he  meant  to  be  conciliatory, ''  and  don't  spoil  your  own 
sports.  They  say  here  in  the  castle  that  Lady  Margaret's 
niece  is  immediately  to  marry  our  young  captain,  Lord  Evan- 
dale.  I  saw  them  close  together  in  the  hall  yonder,  and  I 
heard  her  ask  him  to  intercede  for  your  pardon.     She  looked 

so  devilish  handsome  and  kind  upon  him  that  on  my  soul 

But  what  the  devil's  the  matter  with  you  ?  You  are  as  pale 
as  a  sheet.     Will  you  have  some  brandy  ?'^ 

''  Miss  Bellenden  ask  my  life  of  Lord  Evandale  1 "  said 
the  prisoner,  faintly. 

'*  Ay,  ay  ;  there's  no  friend  like  the  women ;  their  inter- 
est carries  all  in  court  and  camp.  Come,  you  are  reasonable 
now.     Ay,  I  thought  you  would  come  round.'" 

Here  he  employed  himself  in  putting  on  the  fetters,  against 
which  Morton,  thunderstruck  by  this  intelligence,  no  longer 
offered  the  least  resistance. 

**  My  life  begged  of  him,  and  by  her  !  Ay,  ay,  put  on  the 
irons  ;  my  limbs  shall  not  refuse  to  bear  what  has  entered 
into  my  very  soul.  My  life  begged  by  Edith,  and  begged  of 
Evandale  ! " 

*'  Ay,  and  he  has  power  to  grant  it  too,"  said  Bothwell. 
*'  He  can  do  more  with  the  Colonel  than  any  man  in  the  regi- 
ment." 


126  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

And  as  he  spoke  he  and  his  party  led  their  prisoner  towards 
the  hall.  In  passing  behind  the  seat  of  Edith  the  unfortu- 
nate prisoner  heard  enough,  as  he  conceived,  of  the  broken 
expressions  which  passed  between  Edith  and  Lord  Evandale 
to  confirm  all  tiiat  the  soldier  had  told  him.  That  moment 
made  a  singular  and  instantaneous  revolution  in  his  character. 
The  depth  of  despair  to  which  his  love  and  fortunes  were  re- 
duced, the  peril  in  which  his  life  appeared  to  stand,  the 
;  transference  of  Edith^s  affections,  her  intercession  in  his  favor, 
which  rendered  her  fickleness  yet  more  galling,  seemed  to 
destroy  every  feeling  for  which  he  had  hitherto  lived,  but  at 
the  same  time  awakened  those  which  had  hitherto  been 
smothered  by  passions  more  gentle  though  more  selfish.  J^s- 
perate  himself,  he  determined  to  support  the  rights  of  his 
country  insulted  in  his  person.  His  character  was  for  the 
moment  as  effectually  changed  as  the  appearance  of  a  villa 
which,  from  being  the  abode  of  domestic  quiet  and  happiness, 
is,'by  the  sudden  intrusion  of  an  armed  force,  converted  into 
a  formidable  post  of  defence. 

We  have  already  said  that  he  cast  upon  Edith  one  glance 
in  which  reproach  was  mingled  with  sorrow,  as  if  to  bid  her 
farewell  forever ;  his  next  motion  was  to  walk  firmly  to  the 
table  at  which  Colonel  Grahame  was  seated. 

'^  By  what  right  is  it,  sir,''  said  he,  firmly,  and  without 
waiting  till  he  was  questioned — '^  by  what  right  is  it  that  these 
soldiers  have  dragged  me  from  my  family  and  put  fetters  on 
the  limbs  of  a  free  man  ?" 

"  By  my  commands,"  answered  Claverhouse  ;  "  and  I  now 
lay  my  commands  on  you  to  be  silent  and  hear  my  questions.'^ 

"  I  will  not,''  replied  Morton,  in  a  determined  tone,  while 
his  boldness  seemed  to  electrify  all  around  him.  "  I  will 
know  whether  I  am  in  lawful  custody,  and  before  a  civil  mag- 
istrate, ere  the  charter  of  my  country  shall  be  forfeited  in  my 
person." 

'*  A  pretty  springald  this,  upon  my  honor  I"  said  Claver- 
house. 

"Are  you  mad?"  said  Major  Bellenden  to  his  young 
friend.  '*  For  God's  sake,  Henry  Morton,"  he  continued,  in 
a  tone  between  rebuke  and  entreaty,  ''remember  you  are  speak- 
ing to  one  of  his  Majesty's  officers  high  in  the  service." 

'*  It  is  for  that  very  reason,  sir,"  returned  Henry,  firmly, 
**  that  I  desire  to  know  what  right  he  has  to  detain  me  without 
ft  legal  warrant.  Were  he  a  civil  officer  of  the  law,  I  should 
know  my  duty  was  submission." 

'Your  friend  here,"  said   Claverhouse  to  the  veteran. 


OLD  MORTALITY  137 

coolly,  'Ms  one  of  those  scrupulous  gentlemen  who,  like  the 
madman  in  the  play,  will  not  tie  his  cravat  without  the  war- 
rant of  Mr.  Justice  Overdo ;  but  I  will  let  him  see  before  we 
part  that  my  shoulder-knot  is  as  legal  a  badge  of  authority  as 
the  mace  of  the  Justiciary.  So,  waving  this  discussion,  you 
will  be  pleased,  young  man,  to  tell  me  directly  when  you  saw 
Balfour  of  Burley.'^ 

'^  As  I  know  no  right  you  have  to  ask  such  a  question,^' 
replied  Morton,  ''I  decline  replying  to  it.'' 

''  You  confessed  to  my  sergeant,''  said  Claverhouse,  '*  that 
.you  saw  and  entertained  him,  knowing  him  to  be  an  inter- 
communed  traitor ;  why  are  you  not  so  frank  with  me  ?" 

''  Because,"  replied  the  prisoner,  '^1  presume  you  are  from 
education  taught  to  understand  the  rights  upon  which  you 
seem  disposed  to  trample ;  and  I  am  willing  you  should  be 
aware  there  are  yet  Scotsmen  who  can  assert  the  liberties  of 
Scotland." 

^'^And  these  supposed  rights  you  would  vindicate  with 
your  sword,  I  presume  ?  "  said  Colonel  Grahame. 

''  Were  I  armed  as  you  are,  and  we  were  alone  upon  a  hill- 
side, you  should  not  ask  me  the  question  twice." 

'^  It  is  quite  enough,"  answered  Claverhouse,  calmly ; 
**  your  language  corresponds  with  all  I  have  heard  of  you ; 
but  you  are  the  son  of  a  soldier,  though  a  rebellious  one,  and 
you  shall  not  die  the  death  of  a  dog ;  I  will  save  you  that  in- 
dignity." 

"  Die  in  what  manner  I  may,"  replied  Morton,  *'I  will  die 
like  the  son  of  a  brave  man  ;  and  the  ignominy  you  mention 
shall  remain  with  those  who  shed  innocent  blood." 

'^  Make  your  peace,  then,  with  Heaven  in  five  minutes' 
space.  Bothwell,  lead  him  down  to  the  courtyard  and  draw 
up  your  party." 

The  appalling  nature  of  this  conversation,  and  of  its  result, 
struck  the  silence  of  horror  into  all  but  the  speakers.  But 
now  those  who  stood  round  broke  forth  into  clamor  and  ex- 
postulation. Old  Lady  Margaret,  who,  with  all  the  prejudices 
of  rank  and  party,  had  not  laid  aside  the  feelings  of  her  sex, 
was  loud  in  her  intercession. 

"0,  Colonel  Grahame," she  exclaimed,  "spare  his  young 
blood  !  Leave  him  to  the  law  ;  do  not  repay  my  hospitality 
by  shedding  men's  blood  on  the  threshold  of  my  doors  !" 

''Colonel  Grahame,"  said  Major  Bellenden,  "you  must 
answer  this  violence.  Don't  think,  though  I  am  old  and 
feckless,  that  my  friend's  son  shall  be  murdered  before  my 


128  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eyes  with  impunity.     I  can  find  friends  that  shall  make  you 
answer  it." 

*'  Be  satisfied,  Major  Bellenden,  I  tvill  answer  it,"  replied 
Claverhouse,  totally  unmoved;  "and  you,  madam,  might 
spare  me  the  pain  of  resisting  this  passionate  intercession 
for  a  traitor,  when  you  consider  the  noble  blood  your  own 
house  has  lost  by  such  as  he  is." 

"  Colonel  Grahame,"  answered  the  lady,  her  aged  frame 
trembling  with  anxiety,  ^^I  leave  vengeance  to  God,  who  calls 
it  His  own.  The  shedding  of  this  young  man's  blood  will 
not  call  back  the  lives  that  were  dear  to  me  ;  and  how  can  it 
comfort  me  to  think  that  there  has  maybe  been  another  wid- 
owed mother  made  childless,  like  mysell,  by  a  deed  done  at 
my  very  door-stane  ! " 

''This  is  stark  madness,"  said  Claverhouse;  '^I  musi  do 
my  duty  to  church  and  state.  Here  are  a  thousand  villains 
hard  by  in  open  rebellion,  and  you  ask  me  to  pardon  a  young 
fanatic  who  is  enough  of  himself  to  set  a  whole  kingdom  in  a 
blaze  !     It  cannot  be.     Remove  him.  Both  well." 

She  who  was  most  interested  in  this  dreadful  decision  had 
twice  strove  to  speak,  but  her  voice  had  totally  failed  her ; 
her  mind  refused  to  suggest  words,  and  her  tongue  to  utter 
them.  She  now  sprang  up  and  attempted  to  rush  forward  ; 
but  her  strength  gave  way  and  she  would  have  fallen  flat 
upon  the  pavement  had  she  not  been  caught  by  her  attend- 
ant. ,;-^ 

'^  Help  !  "  cried  Jenny — ''  help,  for  God's  sake  !  my  young 
lady  is  dying." 

At  this  exclamation,  Evandale,  who,  during  the  preceding 
part  of  the  scene,  had  stood  motionless,  leaning  upon  his 
sword,  now  stepped  forward,  and  said  to  his  commanding 
officer,  "  Colonel  Grahame,  before  proceeding  in  this  matter, 
will  you  speak  a  word  with  me  in  private  ?  " 

Claverhouse  looked  surprised,  but  instantly  rose  and  with- 
drew with  the  young  nobleman  into  a  recess,  where  the  fol- 
lowing brief  dialogue  passed  between  them  : 

*'I  think  I  need  not  remind  you.  Colonel,  that,  when  our 
family  interest  was  of  service  to  you  last  year  in  that  affair  in 
the  privy  council,  you  considered  yourself  as  laid  under  some 
obligation  to  us  ?  " 

"Certainly,  my  dear  Evandale,"  answered  Claverhouse, 
*'  I  am  not  a  man  who  forgets  such  debts  ;  you  will  delight 
me  by  showing  how  I  can  evince  my  gratitude.'' 

"I  will  hold  the  debt  cancelled," said  Lord  Evandale,  "if 
you  will  spare  this  young  man's  life." 


OLD  MORTALITY  189 

"Evandale/^  replied  Grahame,  in  great  surprise,  "you  are 
mad — absolutely  mad  ;  what  interest  can  you  have  in  this 
yoi^^«;  spawn  of  an  old  Eoundhead  ?  His  father  w^as  posi- 
tively the  most  dangerous  man  in  all  Scotland — cool,  resolute, 
soldierly,  and  inflexible  in  his  cursed  principles.  His  son 
seems  his  very  model ;  you  cannot  conceive  the  mischief  he 
may  do.  I  know  mankind,  Evandale  ;  were  he  an  insignifi- 
cant, fanatical,  country  booby,  do  you  think  I  would  have  re- 
fused such  a  trifle  as  his  life  to  Lady  Margaret  and  this  family  ? 
But  this  is  a  lad  of  fire,  zeal,  and  education  ;  and  these  knaves 
want  but  such  a  leader  to  direct  their  blind  enthusiastic  hardi- 
ness. I  mention  this,  not  as  refusing  your  request,  but  to 
make  you  fully  aware  of  the  possible  consequences.  I  will 
never  evade  a  promise,  or  refuse  to  return  an  obligation  ;  if 
you  ask  his  life  he  shall  have  it.'' 

"Keep  him  close  prisoner,"  answered  Evandale,  "but do 
not  be  surprised  if  I  persist  in  requesting  you  will  not  put  him 
to  death.     I  have  most  urgent  reasons  for  what  I  ask.'' 

"Be  it  so,  then,"  replied  Grahame  ;  "but,  young  man, 
should  you  wish  in  your  future  life  to  rise  to  eminence  in  the 
service  of  your  king  and  country,  let  it  be  your  first  task  to 
subject  to  the  public  interest  and  to  the  discharge  of  your 
duty  your  private  passions,  affections,  and  feelings.  These 
are  not  times  to  sacrifice  to  the  dotage  of  graybeards  or  the 
tears  of  silly  women  the  measures  of  salutary  severity  which 
the  dangers  around  compel  us  to  ivdopt.  And  remember  that, 
if  I  now  yield  this  point  in  com^Hiance  with  your  urgency, 
my  present  concession  must  exempt  me  from  future  solicita- 
tions of  the  same  nature." 

He  then  stepped  forward  to  the  table  and  bent  his  eyes 
keenly  on  Morton,  as  if  to  observe  wiiat  effect  the  pause  of 
awful  suspense  between  death  and  life,  which  seemed  to  freeze 
the  bystanders  with  horror,  would  produce  upon  the  prisoner 
himself.  Morton  maintained  a  degree  of  firmness  which  noth- 
ing but  a  mind  that  had  nothing  left  upon  earth  to  love  or  to 
hope  could  have  supported  at  such  a  crisis. 

"You  see  him  ?"  said  Claverhouse,  in  a  half  whisper,  to 
Lord  Evandale.  "  He  is  tottering  on  the  verge  between  time 
and  eternity,  a  situation  more  appalling  than  the  most  hide- 
ous certainty  ;  yet  his  is  the  only  cheek  unblanched,  the  only 
eye  that  is  calm,  the  only  heart  that  keeps  its  usual  time,  the 
only  nerves  that  are  not  quivering.  Look  at  him  well,  Evan- 
dale. If  that  man  shall  ever  come  to  head  an  army  of  rebels, 
you  will  have  much  to  answer  for  on  account  of  this  morn- 
ing's work."    He  then  said  aloud,  "  Young  man,  your  life  is 


180  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

for  the  present  safe,  through  the  intercession  of  your  friends. 
Remove  him,  Bothwell,  and  let  him  be  properly  guarded  and 
brought  along  with  the  other  prisoners. 

"  If  my  life,"  said  Morton,  stung  with  the  idea  that  he 
owed  his  respite  to  the  intercession  of  a  favored  rival — "  if 
my  life  be  granted  at  Lord  Evandale's  request " 

*'  Take  the  prisoner  away,  Bothwell,  said  Colonel  Gra- 
hame,  interrupting  him;  "I  have  neither  time  to  make  nor 
to  hear  fine  speeches." 

Bothwell  forced  off  Morton,  saying,  as  he  conducted  him 
into  the  courtyard,  '^  Have  you  three  lives  in  your  pocket, 
besides  the  one  in  your  body,  my  lad,  that  you  can  afford  to 
let  your  tongue  run  away  with  them  at  this  rate  ?  Come, 
come,  ril  take  care  to  keep  you  out  of  the  Coloners  way  ; 
for,  egad,  you  will  not  be  five  minutes  with  him  before  the 
next  tree  or  the  next  ditch  will  be  the  word.  So  come  along 
to  your  companions  in  bondage." 

Thus  speaking,  the  sergeant,  who  in  his  rude  manner  did 
not  altogether  want  sympathy  for  a  gallant  young  man,  hur- 
ried Morton  down  to  the  courtyard,  where  three  other  pris- 
oners, two  men  and  a  woman,  who  had  been  taken  by  Lord 
Evandale,  remained  under  an  escort  of  dragoons. 

Meantime  Claverhouse  took  his  leave  of  Lady  Margaret. 
But  it  was  difficult  for  the  good  lady  to  forgive  his  neglect  of 
her  intercession. 

"  I  have  thought  till  now,"  she  said,  *'  that  the  Tower  of 
Tillietudlem  might  have  been  a  place  of  succor  to  those  that 
are  ready  to  perish,  even  if  they  werena  sae  deserving  as  they 
should  have  been  ;  but  I  see  auld  fruit  has  little  savor  ;  our 
suffering  and  our  services  have  been  of  an  ancient  date." 

"  They  are  never  to  be  forgotten  by  me,  let  me  assure  your 
ladyship,"  said  Claverhouse.  *'  Nothing  but  what  seemed  my 
sacred  duty  could  make  me  hesitate  to  grant  a  favor  requested 
by  you  and  the  Major.  Come,  my  good  lady,  let  me  hear  you 
say  you  have  forgiven  me,  and  as  I  return  to-night  I  will  bring 
a  drove  of  two  hundred  Whigs  with  me,  and  pardon  fifty  head 
of  them  for  your  sake." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  hear  of  your  success.  Colonel,"  said 
Major  Beilenden  ;  "  but  take  an  old  soldier's  advice,  and  spare 
blood  when  battle's  over ;  and  once  more  let  me  request  to 
enter  bail  for  young  Morton." 

"  We  will  settle  that  when  I  return,"  said  Claverhouse. 
"Meanwhile,  be  assured  his  life  shall  be  safe." 

Du.ing  this  conversation  Evandale  looked  anxiously 
around  ior  Edith  ;  but  the  precaution  of  Jenny  Dennison  had 


OLD  MORTALITY  <  131 

occasioned  her  mistress  being  transported  to  her  own  apart- 
ment. 

Slowly  and  heavily  he  obeyed  the  impatient  summons  of 
Claverhouse,  who,  after  taking  a  courteous  leave  of  Lady 
Margaret  and  the  Major,  had  hastened  to  the  courtyard.  The 
prisoners  with  their  guard  were  already  on  their  march,  and 
the  officers  with  their  escort  mounted  and  followed.  All 
pressed  forward  to  overtake  the  main  body,  as  it  was  supposed 
they  would  come  in  sight  of  the  enemy  in  little  more  than  two 
hours. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

My  hounds  may  a'  rin  masterless, 
My  hawks  may  fly  f  rae  tree  to  tree, 

My  lord  may  grip  my  vassal  lands, 
For  there  again  maun  I  never  be  I 

Old  Ballad. 

We  left  Morton,  along  with  three  companions  in  captivity, 
travelling  in  the  custody  of  a  small  body  of  soldiers,  who 
formed  the  rear-guard  of  the  column  under  the  command  of 
Claverhouse,  and  were  immediately  under  the  charge  of  Ser- 
geant Both  well.  Their  route  lay  towards  the  hills  in  which 
the  insurgent  Presbyterians  were  reported  to  be  in  arms. 
They  had  not  prosecuted  their  march  a  quarter  of  a  mile  ere 
Claverhouse  and  Evandale  galloped  past  them,  followed  by 
their  orderly-men,  in  order  to  take  their  proper  places  in  the 
columu  which  preceded  them.  No  sooner  were  they  past 
than  Bothwell  halted  the  body  which  he  commanded,  and 
disencumbered  Morton  of  his  irons. 

'*' King's  blood  must  keep  word,"  said  the  dragoon.  '^^I 
promised  you  should  be  civilly  treated  as  far  as  rested  with 
me.  Here,  Corporal  Inglis,  let  this  gentleman  ride  along- 
side of  the  other  young  fellow  who  is  prisoner  ;  and  you  may 
permit  them  to  converse  together  at  their  pleasure,  under 
their  breath,  but  take  care  they  are  guarded  by  two  files  with 
loaded  carabines.  If  they  attempt  an  escape,  blow  their  brains 
out.  You  cannot  call  that  using  you  uncivilly,"  he  con- 
tinued, addressing  himself  to  Morton  ;  '*'  it's  the  rules  of  war, 
you  know.  And,  Inglis,  couple  up  the  parson  and  the  old 
woman ;  they  are  fittest  company  for  each  other,  d — n  me  ; 
a  single  file  may  guard  them  well  enough.  If  they  speak  a 
word  of  cant  or  fanatical  nonsense,  let  them  have  a  strapping 
with  a  shoulder-bolt.  There's  some  hope  of  choking  a  si- 
lenced parson  ;  if  he  is  not  allowed  to  hold  forth,  his  own 
treason  will  burst  him." 

Having  made  this  arrangement,  Bothwell  placed  liimself  at 
the  head  of  the  party,  and  Inglis,  with  six  dragoons,  brought 

U8 


OLD  MORTALITY  ife 

up  the  rear.  The  whole  then  set  forward  at  a  trot,  with  the 
purpose  of  overtaking  the  main  body  of  the  regiment. 

Morton,  overwhelmed  with  a  complication  of  feelings,  was 
totally  indifferent  to  the  various  arrangements  made  for  his 
secure  custody,  and  even  to  the  relief  afforded  him  by  his 
release  from  the  fetters.  He  experienced  that  blank  and  waste 
of  the  heart  which  follows  the  hurricane  of  passion,  and,  no 
longer  supported  by  the  pride  and  conscious  rectitude  which 
dictated  his  answers  to  Claverhouse,  he  surveyed  with  deep 
dejection  the  glades  through  which  he  travelled,  each  turning 
of  which  had  something  to  remind  him  of  past  happiness  and 
disappointed  love.  The  eminence  which  they  now  ascended 
was  that  from  which  he  used  first  and  last  to  behold  the 
ancient  tower  when  approaching  or  retiring  from  it ;  and  it  is 
needless  to  add  that  there  he -was  wont  to  pause  and  gaze  with 
a  lover's  delight  on  the  battlements  which,  rising  at  a  dis- 
tance out  of  the  lofty  wood,  indicated  the  dwelling  of  her 
whom  he  either  hoped  soon  to  meet  or  had  recently  parted 
from.  Instinctively  he  turned  his  head  back  to  take  a  last 
look  of  a  scene  formerly  so  dear  to  him,  and  no  less  instinc- 
tively he  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  It  was  echoed  by  a  loud  groan 
from  his  companion  in  misfortune,  whose  eyes,  moved,  per- 
chance, by  similar  reflections,  had  taken  the  same  direction. 
This  indication  of  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  captive  was 
uttered  in  a  tone  more  coarse  than  sentimental ;  it  was,  how- 
ever, the  expression  of  a  grieved  spirit,  and  so  far  corre- 
sponded with  the  sigh  of  Morton.  In  turning  their  heads  their 
eyes  met,  and  Morton  recognized  the  stolid  countenance  of 
Cuddie  Headrigg,  bearing  a  rueful  expression,  in  which  sor- 
row for  his  own  lot  was  mixed  with  sympathy  for  the  situation 
of  his  companion. 

'^  Hegh,  sirs  ! "  was  the  expression  of  the  ci-devant  plough- 
man of  the  mains  of  Tillietudlem ;  **it's  an  unco  thing  that 
decent  folk  should  be  harled  through  the  country  this  gate  as 
if  they  were  a  warld's  wonder. '^ 

^'I  am  sorry  to  see  you  here,  Cuddie, '"^  said  Morton,  who, 
even  in  his  own  distress,  did  not  lose  feeling  for  that  of 
others. 

''And  sae  am  I,  Mr.  Henry,''  answered  Cuddie,  ''baith 
for  mysell  and  you  ;  but  neither  of  our  sorrows  will  do  muckle 
gude  that  I  can  see.  To  be  sure,  for  me,"  continued  the 
captive  agriculturist,  relieving  his  heart  by  talking,  though 
he  well  knew  it  was  to  little  purpose — ''to  be  sure,  for  my 
part,  I  hae  nae  right  to  be  here  ava',  for  I  never  did  nor  said 
a  word  against  either  king  or  curate ;  but  my  mither,  puir 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

body,  couldna  hand  the  auld  tongue  o'  her,  and  we  mann 
baith  pay  for't,  it's  like/' 

"Your  mother  is  their  prisoner  likewise  ?'*  said  Morton, 
hardly  knowing  what  he  said. 

'*  In  troth  is  she,  riding  ahint  ye  there  like  a  bride,  wi' 
that  auld  carle  o'  a  minister  that  they  ca'  Gabriel  Kettle- 
drummle.  Deil  that  he  had  been  in  the  inside  of  a  drum  or 
a  kettle  either,  for  my  share  o'  him !  Ye  see,  we  were  nae 
sooner  chased  out  o'  the  doors  o'  Milnwood,  and  your  uncle 
and  the  housekeeper  banging  them  to  and  barring  them  ahint 
us  as  if  we  had  had  the  plague  on  our  bodies,  than  I  says  to 
my  mither,  '  What  are  we  to  do  neist  ?  for  every  hole  and 
bore  in  the  country  will  be  steekit  against  us,  now  that  ye  hae 
affronted  my  auld  leddy,  and  gar't  the  troopers  tak  up  young 
Milnwood/  Sae  she  says  to  me,  '  Binna  cast  doun,  but  gird 
yoursell  up  to  the  great  task  o'  the  day,  and  gie  your  testimony 
like  a  man  upon  the  mount  o'  the  Covenant/^' 

"And  so  I  suppose  you  went  to  a  conventicle?^'  said 
Morton. 

"Ye  sail  hear,*'  continued  Cuddie.  " Aweel,  I  kendna 
muckle  better  what  to  do,  sae  I  e'en  gaed  wi'  her  to  an  auld 
daft  carline  like  hersell,  and  we  got  some  water-broo  and  ban- 
nocks ;  and  mony  a  weary  grace  they  said,  and  mony  a  psalm 
they  sang,  or  they  wad  let  me  win  to,  for  I  was  amaist  fam- 
ished wi'  vexation.  Aweel,  they  had  me  up  in  the  gray  o'  the 
morning,  and  I  behoved  to  whig  awa'  wi'  them,  reason  or 
nane,  to  a  great  gathering  o'  their  folk  at  the  Miry  Sikes ; 
and  there  this  chield,  Gabriel  Kettledrummle,  was  blasting  awa' 
to  them  on  the  hillside  about  lifting  up  their  testimony,  nae 
doubt,  and  ganging  down  to  the  battle  of  Roman  Gilead,  or 
some  sic  place.  Eh,  Mr.  Henry,  but  the  carle  gae  them  a 
screed  o'  doctrine  !  Ye  might  hae  heard  him  a  mile  down 
the  wind.  He  routed  like  a  cow  in  a  f  remd  loaning.  *  AVeel,' 
thinks  I,  '  there's  nae  place  in  this  country  they  ca'  Roman 
Gilead  ;  it  will  be  some  gate  in  the  west  muirlands ;  and  or 
we  win  there  I'll  see  to  slip  awa'  wi'  this  mither  o'  mine,  for  I 
winna  rin  my  neck  into  a  tether  for  ony  Kettledrummle  in 
the  country-side.'  Aweel,"  continued  Cuddie,  relieving  him- 
self by  detailing  his  misfortunes,  without  being  scrupulous 
concerning  the  degree  of  attention  which  his  companion  be- 
stowed on  his  narrative,  "just  as  I  was  wearying  for  the  tail 
of  the  preaching,  cam  word  that  the  dragoons  were  upon  us. 
Some  ran,  and  some  cried,  '  Stand  ! '  and  some  cried,  *  Down 
wi'  the  Philistines  ! '  I  was  at  my  mither  to  get  her  awa' 
Sting  and  ling  or  the  redcoats  cam  up,  but  I  might  as  weel 


OLD  MORTALITY  186 

hae  tried  to  drive  our  auld  fore-a-hand  ox  without  the  goad — 
deil  a  step  wad  she  budge.  Weel,  after  a',  the  cleugh  we  were 
in  was  strait,  and  the  mist  cam  thick,  and  there  was  good 
hope  the  dragoons  wad  hae  missed  us  if  we  could  hae  held  our 
tongues ;  but,  as  if  auld  Kettledrummle  himsell  hadna  made 
din  eneugh  to  waken  the  very  dead,  they  behoved  a^  to  skirl 
up  a  psalm  that  ye  wad  hae  heard  as  far  as  Lanrick  !  A  weel, 
to  mak  a  lang  tale  short,  up  cam  my  young  Lord  Evandale, 
skelping  as  fast  as  his  horse  could  trot,  and  twenty  redcoats 
at  his  back.  Twa  or  three  chields  wad  needs  fight  wi'  the 
pistol  and  the  whinger  in  the  tae  hand  and  the  Bible  in  the 
tother,  and  they  got  their  crouns  weel  cloured  ;  but  there 
wasna  muckle  skaith  dune,  for  Evandale  aye  cried  to  scatter 
us,  but  to  spare  life." 

*'  And  did  you  not  resist  ?  "  said  Morton,  who  probably 
felt  that  at  that  moment  he  himself  would  have  encountered 
Lord  Evandale  on  much  slighter  grounds. 

.  ''  Na,  truly,'^  answered  Cuddie,  ^'  I  keepit  aye  before  the 
auld  woman,  and  cried  for  mercy  to  life  and  limb  ;  but  twa 
o'  the  redcoats  cam  up,  and  ane  o'  them  was  gaun  to  strike 
my  mither  wi'  the  side  o'  his  broadsword.  So  I  got  up  my 
kebbie  at  them,  and  said  I  wad  gie  them  as  gude.  Weel, 
they  turned  on  me,  and  clinked  at  mewi'  their  swords,  and  I 
garr'd  my  hand  keep  my  head  as  weel  as  I  could  till  Lord 
Evandale  came  up,  and  then  I  cried  out  I  was  a  servant  at 
Tillietudlem — ye  ken  yoursell  he  was  aye  judged  to  hae  a  look 
after  the  young  leddy — and  he  bade  me  fling  down  my  kent ; 
and  sae  me  and  my  mither  yielded  oursells  m-isoners.  I'm 
thinking  we  wad  hae  been  letten  slip  awa' ;  but  Kettledrummle 
was  taen  near  us.  for  Andrew  Wilson's  naig  that  he  was  rid- 
ing on  had  been  a  dragooner  lang  syne,  and  the  sairer  Kettle- 
drummle spurred  to  win  awa',  the  readier  the  dour  beast  ran 
to  the  dragoons  when  he  saw  them  draw  up.  Aweel,  when 
my  mither  and  him  forgathered  they  set  till  the  sodgers,  and 
I  think  they  gae  them  their  kale  through  the  reek  !  Bastards 
o'  the  hure  o'  Babylon  was  the  best  words  in  their  wame. 
Sae  then  the  kiln  was  in  a  bleeze  again,  and  they  brought  us 
a'  three  on  wi'  them  to  mak  us  an  example,  as  they  ca't." 

*'  It  is  most  infamous  and  intolerable  oppression  1 "  said 
Morton,  half  speaking  to  himself.  '^  Here  is  a  poor  peace- 
able fellow,  whose  only  motive  for  joining  the  conventicle 
was  a  sense  of  filial  piety,  and  he  is  chained  up  like  a  thief 
or  murderer,  and  likely  to  die  the  death  of  one,  but  without 
the  privilege  of  a  formal  trial,  which  our  laws  indulge  to  the 
worst  malefactor.     Even  to  witness  such  tyranny,  and  still 


136  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

more  to  suffer  under  it,  is  enough  to  make  the  blood  of  the 
tamest  slave  boil  within  him." 

*'  To  be  sure,"  said  Cuddie,  hearing,  and  partly  under- 
standing, what  had  broken  from  Morton  in  resentment  of  his 
injuries,  "  it  is  no  right  to  speak  evil  o'  dignities.  My  auld 
leddy  aye  said  that,  as  nae  doubt  she  had  a  gude  right  to  do, 
being  in  a  place  o'  dignity  hersell ;  and  troth  I  listened  to  her 
very  patiently,  for  she  aye  ordered  a  dram,  or  a  soup-kale,  or 
something  to  us,  after  she  had  gien  us  a  hearing  on  our  duties. 
But  diel  a  dram,  or  kale,  or  onything  else,  no  sae  muckle  as 
a  cup  o'  cauld  water,  do  thae  lords  at  Edinburgh  gie  us  ;  and 
yet  they  are  heading  and  hanging  amang  us,  and  trailing  us 
after  thae  blackguard  troopers,  and  taking  our  goods  and  gear 
as  if  we  were  outlaws.  I  canna  say  1  tak  it  kind  at  their 
hands." 

"  It  would  be  very  strange  if  you  did,"  answered  Morton, 
with  suppressed  emotion. 

"  And  what  I  like  warst  o'  a',"  continued  poor  Cuddie, 
''is  thae  ranting  redcoats  coming  amang  the  lasses  and  taking 
awa'  our  joes.  I  had  a  sair  heart  o^  my  ain  when  I  passed  the 
mains  down  at  Tillietudlem  this  morning  about  parritch-time, 
and  saw  the  reek  comin'  out  at  my  ain  lum-head,  and  kenn'd 
there  was  some  ither  body  than  my  auld  mither  sitting  by 
the  ingle-side.  But  I  think  my  heart  was  e^en  sairer  when  I 
saw  that  hellicat  trooper,  Tam  Halliday,  kissing  Jenny  Denni- 
son  afore  my  face.  I  wonder  women  can  hae  the  impudence 
to  do  sic  things ;  but  they  are  a'  for  the  redcoats.  Whiles  I 
hae  thought  o'  being  a  trooper  mysell,  when  I  thought  nae- 
thing  else  wad  gae  down  wi'  Jenny ;  and  yet  I'll  no  blame  her 
ower  muckle  neither,  for  maybe  it  was  a'  for  my  sake  that  she 
loot  Tam  touzle  her  tap-knots  that  gate." 

*' For  your  sake  ?"  said  Morton,  unable  to  refrain  from 
taking  some  interest  in  a  story  which  seemed  to  bear  a  singular 
coincidence  with  his  own. 

''E'en  sae,  Milnwood,"  replied  Cuddie;  ''for  the  puir 
quean  gat  leave  to  come  near  me  wi'  speaking  the  loon  fair — 
d — n  liim,  that  I  suld  say  sae  ! — and  sae  she  bade  me  Godspeed, 
and  she  wanted  to  stap  siller  into  my  hand ;  I'se  warrant  it 
was  the  tae  half  o'  her  fee  and  bountith,  for  she  wared  the 
ither  half  on  pinners  and  pearlings  to  gang  to  see  us  shoot  yon 
day  at  the  popinjay." 

"And  did  you  take  it,  Cuddie  ?"  said  Morton. 

"  Troth  did  I  no,  Milnwood  ;  I  was  sic  a  fule  as  to  fling  it 
back  to  her ;  my  heart  was  ower  grit  to  be  behadden  to  her 
when  I  had  seen  that  loon  slavering  and  kissing  at  her.     But 


OLD  MOKlALiry  137 

I  was  a  great  fule  for  my  pains ;  it  wad  hae  dune  my  mither 
and  me  some  gude,  and  she'll  ware't  a'  on  duds  and  nonsense/* 

There  was  here  a  deep  and  long  pause.  Cuddie  was  prob- 
ably engaged  in  regretting  the  rejection  of  his  mistress's 
bounty,  and  Henry  Morton  in  considering  from  what  motives, 
or  upon  what  conditions,  Miss  Bellenden  had  succeeded  in 
procuring  the  interference  of  Lord  Evandale  in  his  favor. 

Was  it  not  possible,  suggested  his  awakening  hopes,  that 
he  had  construed  her  influence  over  Lord  Evandale  hastily 
and  unjustly  ?  Ought  he  to  censure  her  severely  if,  submit- 
ting to  dissimulation  for  his  sake,  she  had  permitted  the 
young  nobleman  to  entertain  hopes  which  she  had  no  inten- 
tion to  realize  ?  Or  what  if  she  had  appealed  to  the  generos- 
ity which  Lord  Evandale  was  supposed  to  possess,  and  had 
engaged  his  honor  to  protect  the  person  of  a  favored  rival  ? 

Still,  however,  the  words  which  he  had  overheard  recurred 
ever  and  anon  to  his  remembrance  with  a  pang  which  resem- 
bled the  sting  of  an  adder. 

^'  Nothing  that  she  could  refuse  him  !  Was  it  possible  to 
make  a  more  unlimited  declaration  of  predilection  ?  The 
language  of  affection  has  not,  within  the  limits  of  maidenly 
delicacy,  a  stronger  expression.  She  is  lost  to  me  wholly  and 
forever,  and  nothing  remains  for  me  now  but  vengeance  for 
my  own  wrongs  and  for  those  which  are  hourly  inflicted  on  my 
country. '^ 

Apjparently  Cuddie,  though  with  less  refinement,  was  fol- 
lowing out  a  similar  train  of  ideas,  for  he  suddenly  asked  Mor- 
ton in  a  low  whisper,  "  Wad  there  be  ony  ill  in  getting  out  o* 
thae  chields'  hands  an  ane  could  compass  it  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  world,''  said  Morton  ;  **  and  if  an  opportunity 
occurs  of  doing  so,  depend  on  it  I  for  one  will  not  let  it  slip. 

"I'm  blithe  to  hear  ye  say  sae," answered  Cuddie.  *'I'm 
.dut  a  puir  silly  fallow,  but  I  canna  think  there  wad  be  muckle 
ill  in  breaking  out  by  strength  o'  hand  if  ye  could  mak  it  ony- 
thing  feasible.  I  am  the  lad  that  will  ne'er  fear  to  lay  on,  if 
it  were  come  to  that ;  but  our  auld  leddy  wad  hae  ca'd  that  a 
resisting  o'  the  king's  authority." 

''I  will  resist  any  authority  on  earth,"  said  Morton,  **that 
invades  tyrannically  my  chartered  rights  as  a  freeman  ;  and  I 
am  determined  I  will  not  be  unjustly  dragged  to  a  jail,  or 
perhaps  a  gibbet,  if  I  can  possibly  make  my  escape  from  these 
men  either  by  address  or  force." 

'*  Weel,  that's  just  my  mind  too,  aye  supposing  we  hae  a 
feasible  opportunity  o'  breaking  loose.  But  then  ye  speak  o' 
a  charter  ;  now  these  are  things  that  only  belang  to  the  like  o' 


188  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

you  that  are  a  gentleman,  and  it  mightna  bear  me  through, 
that  am  but  a  husbandman." 

'^  The  charter  that  I  speak  of,"  said  Morton,  ^'is  common 
to  the  meanest  Scotchman.  It  is  that  freedom  from  stripes 
and  bondage  which  was  claimed,  as  you  may  read  in  Scripture, 
by  the  Apostle  Paul  himself,  and  which  every  man  who  is  free 
born  is  called  upon  to  defend  for  his  own  sake  and  that  of  his 
countrymen." 

''  Hegh,  sirs  ! "  replied  Cuddie,  ''  it  wad  hae  been  lang  or 
my  Leddy  Margaret,  or  my  mither  either,  wad  hae  fund  out 
sic  a  wise-like  doctrine  in  the  Bible  !  The  tane  was  aye 
graning  about  giving  tribute  to  Caesar,  and  the  tither  is  as 
daft  wi'  her  Whiggery.  I  hae  been  clean  spoilt.  Just  wi'  lis- 
tening to  twa  blethering  auld  wives  ;  but  if  I  could  get  a 
gentleman  that  wad  let  me  tak  on  to  be  his  servant,  I  am 
confident  I  wad  be  a  clean  contrary  creature ;  and  I  hope 
your  honor  will  think  on  what  I  am  saying  if  ye  were  ance 
fairly  delivered  out  o'  this  house  of  bondage,  and  just  take 
me  to  be  your  ain  wally-de-shamble." 

'^  My  valet,  Cuddie!"  answered  Morton.  ''Alas!  that 
would  be  sorry  preferment,  even  if  we  were  at  liberty." 

*'Iken  what  ye're  thinking — that  because  I  am  landward- 
bred  I  wad  be  bringing  ye  to  disgrace  afore  folk  ;  but  ye 
maun  ken  I^m  gay  gleg  at  the  uptak  :  there  was  never  ony- 
thing  dune  wi'  hand  but  I  learned  gay  readily,  ^septing  read- 
ing, writing,  and  ciphering ;  but  there's  no  the  like  o'  me  at  the 
fitba',  and  I  can  play  wi'  the  broadsword  as  weel  as  Corporal 
Inglis  there.  I  hae  broken  his  head  or  now,  for  as  massy  as 
he's  riding  ahint  us.  And  then  ye'll  no  be  gaun  to  stay  in 
this  country  ?  "  said  he,  stopping  and  interrupting  himself. 

*' Probably  not,"  replied  Morton. 

*'  Weel,  I  carena  a  boddle.  Ye  see  I  wad  get  my  mither 
bestowed  wi'  her  auld  graning  tittie.  Auntie  Meg,  in  the 
Gallowgate  o'  Glasgow,  and  then  I  trust  they  wad  neither 
burn  her  for  a  witch,  or  let  her  fail  for  fau't  o'  f ude,  or  hang 
her  up  for  an  auld  Whig  wife  ;  for  the  provost,  they  say,  is 
very  regardf  u'  o'  sic  puir  bodies.  And  then  you  and  me  wad 
gang  and  pouss  our  fortunes  like  the  folk  i'  the  daft  auld 
tales  about  Jock  the  Giant-killer  and  Valentine  and  Orson  ; 
and  we  wad  come  back  to  merry  Scotland,  as  the  sang  says, 
and  I  wad  tak  to  the  stilts  again,  and  turn  sic  furs  on  the 
bonny  rigs  o'  Milnwood  holmes  that  it  wad  be  worth  a  pint 
but  to  look  at  them." 

'*I  fear,"  said  Morton,  "there  is  very  little  chance,  mj 


OLD  MORTALITY  18» 

good  friend  Cuddie,  of  our  getting  back  to  our  old  occupa- 
tion/' 

"  Hout,  stir— hout,  stir,"  replied  Cuddie,  ''  it's  aye  gude 
to  keep  up  a  hardy  heart,  as  broken  a  ship's  come  to  land. 
But  what's  that  I  hear  ?  Never  stir,  if  my  auld  mither  isna 
at  the  preaching  again  !  I  ken  the  sough  o'  her  texts,  that 
sound  just  like  the  wind  blawing  through  the  spence ;  and 
there's  Kettledrummle  setting  to  wark  too.  Lordsake,  if  the 
sodgers  anes  get  angry  they'll  murder  them  baith,  and  us  for 
company  ! " 

Their  further  conversation  was  in  fact  interrupted  by  a 
blatant  noise  which  rose  behind  them,  in  which  the  voice  of 
the  preacher  emitted,  in  unison  with  that  of  the  old  woman, 
tones  like  the  grumble  of  a  bassoon  combined  with  the  screak- 
ing of  a  cracked  fiddle.  At  first  the  aged  pair  of  sufferers 
h^  been  contented  to  condole  with  each  other  in  smothered 
expressions  of  complaint  and  indignation ;  but  the  sense  of 
their  injuries  became  more  pungently  aggravated  as  they  com- 
municated with  each  other,  and  they  became  at  length  unable 
to  suppress  their  ire. 

'*  Woe,  woe,  and  a  threefold  woe  unto  you,  ye  bloody  and 
violent  persecutors  !  "  exclaimed  the  Reverend  Gabriel  Kettle- 
drummle. '^  Woe,  and  threefold  woe  unto  you,  even  to  the 
breaking  of  seals,  the  blowing  of  trumpets,  and  the  pouring 
forth  of  vials  !  " 

*'  Ay,  ay ;  a  black  cast  to  a'  their  ill-faur'd  faces,  and  the 
outside  o'  the  loof  to  them  at  the  last  day  ! "  echoed  the  shrill 
counter-tenor  of  Mause,  falling  in  like  the  second  part  of  a 
catch. 

"  I  tell  you,"  continued  the  divine,  "  that  your  rankings 
and  your  ridings,  your  neighings  and  your  prancings,  your 
bloody,  barbarous,  and  inhuman  cruelties,  your  benumbing, 
deadening,  and  debauching  the  conscience  of  poor  creatures 
by  oaths,  soul-damning  and  self-contradictory,  have  arisen 
from  earth  to  Heaven  like  a  foul  and  hideous  outcrv  of  per- 

i'ury  for  hastening  the  wrath  to  come hugh  !    hugh  ! 
lugh  ! " 

"  And  I  say,"  cried  Mause,  in  the  same  tune,  and  nearly  at 
the  same  time,  '^  that  wi'  this  auld  breath  o'  mine,  and  it's  sair 

taen  down  wi'  the  asthmatics  and  this  rough  trot " 

'*Deil  gin  they  would  gallop,"  said  Cuddie,  '*wad  it  but 
gar  her  baud  her  tongue  ! " 

'^ — Wi'  this  auld  and  brief  breath,"  continued  Mause, 
*'  will  I  testify  against  the  backslidings,  defections,  defalca- 


140  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tions,  and  declinings  of  the  land — against  the  grievances  and 
the  causes  of  wrath  !  " 

"  Peace,  I  pr'ythee — peace,  good  woman,"  said  the  preacher, 
who  had  just  recovered  from  a  violent  fit  of  coughing,  and 
found  his  own  anathema  borne  down  by  Mause's  better  wind — 
'^  peace,  and  take  not  the  word  out  of  the  mouth  of  a  servant 
of  the  altar.  I  say,  I  uplift  my  voice  and  tell  you,  that  before 
the  play  is  played  out — ay,  before  this  very  sun  gaes  down — ye 
sail  learn  that  neither  a  desperate  Judas,  like  your  prelate 
Sharp  that's  gane  to  his  place  ;  nor  a  sanctuary-breaking  Holo- 
fernes,  like  bloody-minded  Claverhouse ;  nor  an  ambitious 
Diotrephes,  like  the  lad  Evandale  ;  nor  a  covetous  and  warld- 
following  Demas,  like  him  they  ca'  Sergeant  Bothwell,  that 
makes  every  wife's  plack  and  her  meal-ark  his  ain  ;  neither 
your  carabines,  nor  your  pistols,  nor  your  broadswords,  nor 
your  horses,  nor  your  saddles,  bridles,  surcingles,  nose-bags, 
nor  martingales,  shall  resist  the  arrows  that  are  whetted  and 
the  bow  that  is  bent  against  you  ! " 

^^  That  shall  they  never,  I  trow,''  echoed  Mause.  '^  Casta- 
ways are  they  ilk  ane  o'  them ;  besoms  of  destruction,  fit  only 
to  be  flung  into  the  fire  when  they  have  sweepit  the  filth  out 
o'  the  Temple  ;  whips  of  small  cords,  knotted  for  the  chastise- 
ment of  those  wha  like  their  warldly  gudes  and  gear  better 
than  the  Cross  or  the  Covenant,  but  wlien  that  wark's  done, 
only  meet  to  mak  latchets  to  the  deil's  brogues." 

'^  Fiend  hae  me,"  said  Cuddie,  addressing  himself  to  Morton, 
'*  if  I  dinna  think  our  mither  preaches  as  weel  as  the  minister  ! 
But  it's  a  sair  pity  o'  his  hoast,  for  it  aye  comes  on  just  when 
he's  at  the  best  o't,  and  that  lang  routing  he  made  air  this 
morning  is  sair  again  him  too.  Deil  an  I  care  if  he  wad  roar 
her  dumb,  and  then  he  wad  hae't  a'  to  answer  for  himsell.  It's 
lucky  the  road's  rough,  and  the  troopers  are  no  taking  muckle 
tent  to  what  they  say  wi'  the  rattling  o'  the  horses'  feet ;  but 
an  we  were  anes  on  saft  grund  we'll  hear  news  o'  a'  this." 

Cud  die's  conjectures  were  but  too  true.  The  words  of 
the  prisoners  had  not  been  much  attended  to  while  drowned 
by  the  clang  of  horses'  hoofs  on  a  rough  and  stony  road  ;  but 
they  now  entered  upon  the  moorlands,  where  the  testimony 
of  the  two  zealous  captives  lacked  this  saving  accompaniment. 
And,  accordingly,  no  sooner  had  their  steeds  begun  to  tread 
heath  and  greensward,  and  Gabriel  Kettledriimmle  had  again 
raised  his  voice  with,  ''Also,  I  uplift  my  voice  like  that  of  a 
pelican  in  the  wilderness " 

"  And  I  mine,"  had  issued  from  Mause,  "  like  a  sparrow 
on  the  housetops " 


OLD  MORTALITY  141 

When  "  Hollo,  ho  ! "  cried  the  corporal  from  the  rear ; 
''  rein  up  your  tongues  ;  the  devil  blister  them,  or  Til  clap  a 
martingale  on  them/' 

'*I  will  not  peace  at  the  commands  of  the  profane/'  said 
Gabriel. 

^^Nor  I  neither/'  said  Mause,  ''for  the  bidding  of  no 
earthly  potsherd,  though  it  be  painted  as  red  as  a  brick  from 
the  Tower  of  Babel,  and  ca'  itsell  a  corporal/' 

"Halliday,"  cried  the  corporal,  ''hast  got  never  a  gag 
about  thee,  man  ?  We  must  stop  their  mouths  before  they 
talk  us  all  dead/' 

Ere  any  answer  could  be  made,  or  any  measure  taken  in 
consequence  of  the  corporal's  motion,  a  dragoon  galloped 
towards  Sergeant  Bothwell,  who  was  considerably  ahead  of 
the  party  he  commanded.  On  hearing  the  orders  which  he 
brought,  Bothwell  instantly  rode  back  to  the  head  of  his 
party,  ordered  them  to  close  their  files,  to  mend  their  pace, 
and  to  move  with  silence  and  precaution,  as  they  would  soon 
be  in  presence  of  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XY 

Quantum  in  nobis,  we've  thought  good 
To  save  the  expense  of  Christian  blood, 
And  try  if  we,  by  mediation 
Of  treaty,  and  accommodation. 
Can  end  the  quarrel,  and  compose 
This  bloody  duel  without  blows. 

Butler. 

The  increased  pace  of  the  party  of  horsemen  soon  took  away 
from  their  zealous  captives  the  breath,  if  not  the  inclination, 
necessary  for  holding  forth.  They  had  now  for  more  than  a 
mile  got  free  of  the  woodlands,  whose  broken  glades  had  for 
some  time  accompanied  them  after  they  had  left  the  woods 
of  Tillietudlem.  A  few  birches  and  oaks  still  feathered  the 
narrow  ravines,  or  occupied  in  dwarf  clusters  the  hollow  plains 
of  the  moor.  But  these  were  gradually  disappearing,  and  a 
wide  and  waste  country  lay  before  them,  swelling  into  bare 
hills  of  dark  heath,  intersected  by  deep  gullies,  being  the  pas- 
sages by  which  torrents  forced  their  course  in  winter,  and 
during  summer  the  disproportioned  channels  for  diminutive 
rivulets  that  winded  their  puny  way  among  heaps  of  stones 
and  gravel,  the  effects  and  tokens  of  their  winter  fury,  like 
so  many  spendthrifts  dwindled  down  by  the  consequences  of 
former  excesses  and  extravagance.  This  desolate  region 
seemed  to  extend  further  than  the  eye  could  reach,  without 
grandeur,  without  even  the  dignity  of  mountain  wildness. 
yet  striking,  from  the  huge  proportion  which  it  seemed  to 
bear  to  such  more  favored  spots  of  the  country  as  were 
adapted  to  cultivation  and  fitted  for  the  support  of  man,  and 
thereby  impressing  irresistibly  the  mind  of  the  spectator  with 
a  sense  of  the  omnipotence  of  nature  and  the  comparative 
inefiicacy  of  the  boasted  means  of  amelioration  which  man  is 
capable  of  opposing  to  the  disadvantages  of  climate  and  soil. 
It  is  a  remarkable  effect  of  such  extensive  wastes  that  they 
impose  an  idea  of  solitude  even  upon  those  who  travel  through 
them  in  considerable  numbers,  so  much  is  the  imagination 
affected  by  the  disproportion  between  the  desert  around  and 
the  party  who  are  traversing  it.     Thus  the  members  of  a  oar* 


OLD  MORTALITY  143 

avan  of  a  thousand  souls  may  feel,  in  the  deserts  of  Africa  or 
Arabia,  a  sense  of  loneliness,  unknown  to  the  individual  trav- 
eller whose  solitary  course  is  through  a  thriving  and  culti- 
vated country. 

It  was  not,  therefore,  without  a  peculiar  feeling  of  emotion 
that  Morton  beheld,  at  the  distance  of  about  half  a  mile,  the 
body  of  the  cavalry  to  which  his  escort  belonged  creeping  up 
a  steep  and  winding  path  which  ascended  from  the  more 
level  moor  into  the  hills.  Their  numbers,  w^hich  appeared 
formidable  when  they  crowded  through  narrow  roads,  and 
seemed  multiplied  by  appearing  partially  and  at  different 
points  among  the  trees,  were  now  apparently  diminished  by 
being  exposed  at  once  to  view,  and  in  a  landscape  whose  ex- 
tent bore  such  immense  proportion  to  the  columns  of  horses 
and  men,  which,  showing  more  like  a  drove  of  black  cattle 
than  a  body  of  soldiers,  crawled  slowly  along  the  face  of  the 
hill,  their  force  and  their  numbers  seeming  trifling  and  con- 
temptible. 

"  Surely,^'  said  Morton  to  himself,  ''  a  handful  of  resolute 
men  may  defend  any  defile  in  these  mountains  against  such 
a  small  force  as  this  is,  providing  that  their  bravery  is  equal 
to  their  enthusiasm.'' 

While  he  made  these  reflections,  the  rapid  movement  of 
the  horsemen  who  guarded  him  soon  traversed  the  space 
which  divided  them  from  their  companions ;  and  ere  the  front 
of  Claverhonse's  column  had  gained  the  brow  of  the  hill 
which  they  had  been  seen  ascending,  Both  well,  with  his  rear- 
guard and  prisoners,  had  united  himself,  or  nearly  so,  with 
the  main  body  led  by  his  commander.  The  extreme  diffi- 
culty of  the  road,  which  was  in  some  places  steep  and  in 
others  boggy,  retarded  the  progress  of  the  column,  especially 
in  the  rear ;  for  the  passage  of  the  main  body  in  many  in- 
stances poached  up  the  swamps  through  which  they  passed, 
and  rendered  them  so  deep  that  the  last  of  their  followers  were 
forced  to  leave  the  beaten  path  and  find  safer  passage  where 
they  could. 

On  these  occasions  the  distresses  of  the  Reverend  Gabriel 
Kettledrummle  and  of  Mause  Headrigg  were  considerably 
augmented,  as  the  brutal  troopers  by  whom  they  were  guarded 
compelled  them,  at  all  risks  which  such  inexperienced  riders 
were  likely  to  incur,  to  leap  their  horses  over  drains  and  gul- 
lies, or  to  push  them  through  morasses  and  swamps. 

'^  Through  the  help  of  the  Lord  I  have  luppen  ower  a 
wall,"  cried  poor  Mause,  as  her  horse  was  by  her  rude  attend- 
ants brought  up  to  leap  the  turf  enclosure  of  a  deserted  fold, 


144  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  which  feat  her  curch  flew  off,  leaving  her  gray  hairs  un- 
covered. 

*'  I  am  sunk  in  deep  mire  where  there  is  no  standing ;  I 
am  come  into  deep  waters  where  the  floods  overflow  me  !  '* 
exclaimed  Kettledrummle,  as  the  charger  on  which  he  was 
mounted  plunged  up  to  the  saddle-girths  in  a  ''^well-head/'  as 
the  springs  are  called  which  supply  the  marshes,  the  sable 
streams  beneath  spouting  over  the  face  and  person  of  the  cap- 
tive preacher. 

These  exclamations  excited  shouts  of  laughter  among  their 
military  attendants  ;  but  events  soon  occurred  which  rendered 
them  all  sufficiently  serious. 

The  leading  files  of  the  regiment  had  nearly  attained  the 
brow  of  the  steep  hill  we  have  mentioned  when  two  or  three 
horsemen,  speedily  discovered  to  be  a  part  of  their  own  ad- 
vanced guard  who  had  acted  as  a  patrol,  appeared  returning 
at  full  gallop,  their  horses  much  blown  and  the  men  appa- 
rently in  a  disordered  flight.  They  were  followed  upon  the  spu  r 
by  flve  or  six  riders,  well  armed  with  sword  and  pistol,  who 
halted  upon  the  top  of  the  hill  on  observing  the  approach  of 
the  Life  Guards.  One  or  two  who  had  carabines  dismounted, 
and  taking  a  leisurely  and  deliberate  aim  at  the  foremost  rank 
of  the  regiment,  discharged  their  pieces,  by  which  two  troopers 
were  wounded,  one  severely.  They  then  mounted  their  horses 
and  disappeared  over  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  retreating  with  so 
much  coolness  as  evidently  showed  that,  on  the  one  hand,  they 
were  undismayed  by  the  approach  of  so  considerable  a  force 
as  was  moving  against  them,  and  conscious,  on  the  other,  that 
they  were  supported  by  numbers  sufficient  for  their  protec- 
tion. This  incident  occasioned  a  halt  through  the  whole  body 
of  cavalry  ;  and  while  Claverhouse  himself  received  the  report 
of  his  advanced  guard,  which  had  been  thus  driven  back  upon 
the  main  body.  Lord  Evandale  advanced  to  the  top  of  the 
ridge  over  which  the  enemy's  horsemen  had  retired,  and  Major 
Allan,  Cornet  Grahame,  and  the  other  officers  employed 
themselves  in  extricating  the  regiment  from  the  broken  ground 
and  drawing  them  up  on  the  side  of  the  hill  in  two  lines,  the 
one  to  support  the  other. 

The  word  was  then  given  to  advance  ;  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  flrst  lines  stood  on  the  brow  and  commanded  the 
prospect  on  the  other  side.  The  second  line  closed  upon  them, 
and  also  the  rear-guard  with  the  prisoners  ;  so  that  Morton 
and  his  companions  in  captivity  could  in  like  manner  see  the 
form  of  opposition  which  was  now  offered  to  the  further  prog- 
ress of  tLeir  captors. 


I 


OLD  MORTALITY  145 

The  brow  of  the  hill,  on  which  the  Royal  Life  Guards  were 
now  drawn  up,  sloped  downwards  (on  the  side  opposite  to 
that  which  they  had  ascended)  with  a  gentle  declivity  for 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  presented  ground  which, 
though  unequal  in  some  places,  was  not  altogether  unfavor- 
able for  the  manoeuvres  of  cavalry,  until  near  the  bottom, 
when  the  slope  terminated  in  a  marshy  level,  traversed  through 
its  whole  length  by  what  seemed  either  a  natural  gully  or  a 
deep  artificial  drain,  the  sides  of  which  were  broken  by 
springs,  trenches  filled  with  water,  out  of  which  peats  and 
turf  had  been  dug,  and  here  and  there  by  some  straggling 
thickets  of  alders,  which  loved  the  moistness  so  well  that  they 
continued  to  live  as  bushes,  although  too  much  dwarfed  by 
the  sour  soil  and  the  stagnant  bog-water  to  ascend  into  trees. 
Beyond  this  ditch  or  gully  the  ground  arose  into  a  second 
heathy  swell,  or  rather  hill,  near  to  the  foot  of  which,  and  as 
if  with  the  object  of  defending  the  broken  ground  and  ditch 
that  covered  their  front,  the  body  of  insurgents  appeared  to 
be  drawn  up  with  the  purpose  of  abiding  battle. 

Their  infantry  was  divided  into  three  lines.  The  first, 
tolerably  provided  with  firearms,  were  advanced  almost  close 
to  the  verge  of  the  bog,  so  that  their  fire  must  necessarily 
annoy  the  royal  cavalry  as  they  descended  the  opposite  hill, 
the  whole  front  of  which  was  exposed,  and  would  probably  be 
yet  more  fatal  if  they  attempted  to  cross  the  morass.  Behind 
this  first  line  was  a  body  of  pikemen,  designed  for  their  sup- 
port in  case  the  dragoons  should  force  the  passage  of  the 
marsh.  In  their  rear  was  their  third  line,  consisting  of  coun- 
trymen armed  with  scythes  set  straight  on  poles,  hay-forks, 
spits,  clubs,  goads,  fish-spears,  and  such  other  rustic  im- 
plements as  hasty  resentment  had  converted  into  instru- 
ments of  war.  On  each  flank  of  the  infantry,  but  a  little 
backward  from  the  bog,  as  if  to  allow  themselves  dry  and 
sound  ground  whereon  to  act  in  case  their  enemies  should 
force  the  pass,  there  was  drawn  up  a  small  body  of  cavalry, 
who  were  in  general  but  indifferently  armed  and  worse 
mounted,  but  full  of  zeal  for  the  cause,  being  chiefly  either 
landholders  of  small  property  or  farmers  of  the  better  class, 
whose  means  enabled  them  to  serve  on  horseback.  A  few  of 
those  who  had  been  engaged  in  driving  back  the  advanced 
guard  of  the  Royalists  might  now  be  seen  returning  slowly 
towards  their  own  squadrons.  These  were  the  only  individ- 
uals of  the  insurgent  army  which  seemed  to  be  in  motion. 
All  the  others  stood  firm  and  motionless  as  the  gray  stones 
that  lay  scattered  on  the  heath  around  them. 


146  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  total  number  of  the  insurgents  might  amount  tc 
about  a  thousand  men ;  but  of  these  there  were  scarce  a  hun- 
dred cavalry,  nor  were  the  half  of  them  even  tolerably  armed. 
The  strength  of  their  position,  however,  the  sense  of  their 
having  taken  a  desperate  step,  the  superiority  of  their  num- 
bers, but,  above  all,  the  ardor  of  their  enthusiasm,  were  the 
means  on  which  their  leaders  reckoned  for  supplying  the  want 
of  arms,  equipage,  and  military  discipline. 

On  the  side  of  the  hill  that  rose  above  the  array  of  battle 
which  they  had  adopted  were  seen  the  women,  and  even  the 
children,  whom  zeal,  opposed  to  persecution,  had  driven  into 
the  wilderness.  They  seemed  stationed  there  to  be  spectators 
of  the  engagement,  by  which  their  own  fate,  as  well  as  that  of 
their  parents,  husbands,  and  sons,  was  to  be  decided.  Like 
the  females  of  the  ancient  German  tribes,  the  shrill  criea 
which  they  raised  when  they  beheld  the  glittering  ranks  of 
their  enemy  appear  on  the  brow  of  the  opposing  eminence 
acted  as  an  incentive  to  their  relatives  to  fight  to  the  last  in 
defence  of  that  which  was  dearest  to  them.  Such  exhorta- 
tions seemed  to  have  their  full  and  emphatic  eifect ;  for  a 
wild  halloo,  which  went  from  rank  to  rank  on  the  appear- 
ance of  the  soldiers,  intimated  the  resolution  of  the  insurgent* 
to  fight  to  the  uttermost. 

As  the  horsemen  halted  their  lines  on  the  ridge  of  the  hill 
their  trumpets  and  kettle-drums  sounded  a  bold  and  warlike 
flourish  of  menace  and  defiance,  that  rang  along  the  waste 
like  the  shrill  summons  of  a  destroying  angel.  The  Wander- 
ers, in  answer,  united  their  voices  and  sent  forth  in  solemn 
modulation  the  two  first  verses  of  the  seventy-sixth  Psalm, 
according  to  the  metrical  version  of  the  Scottish  Kirk — 

In  Judah's  land  God  is  well  known, 

His  name's  in  Isr'el  great : 
In  Salem  is  his  tabernacle, 

In  Sion  is  his  seat. 
There  arrows  of  the  bow  he  brake. 

The  shield,  the  sword,  the  war. 
More  glorious  thou  than  hills  of  prev 

More  excellent  art  far. 

A  shout,  or  rather  a  solemn  acclamation,  attended  the 
close  of  the  stanza  ;  and  after  a  dead  pause  the  second  verse 
was  resumed  by  the  insurgents,  who  applied  the  destruction 
of  the  Assyrians  as  prophetical  of  the  issue  of  their  own  im- 
pending contest — 


OLD  MORTALITY  14^1 

Those  that  were  stout  of  heart  are  spoil'd. 

They  slept  their  sleep  outright ; 
And  none  of  those  their  hands  did  find, 

That  were  the  men  of  might. 
When  thy  rebuke,  O  Jacob's  God, 

Had  forth  against  them  past, 
Their  horses  and  their  chariots  both 

Were  in  a  deep  sleep  cast. 

There  was  another  acclamation,  which  was  followed  by  the 
most  profound  silence. 

While  these  solemn  sounds,  accented  by  a  thousand  voices, 
were  prolonged  among  the  waste  hills,  Claverhouse  looked 
with  great  attention  on  the  ground  and  on  the  order  of  battle 
which  the  Wanderers  had  adopted,  and  in  which  they  deter- 
mined to  await  the  assault. 

*'The  churls,"  he  said,  '*must  have  some  old  soldiers 
with  them  ;  it  was  no  rustic  that  made  choice  of  that  ground." 

"  Burley  is  said  to  be  with  them  for  certain,"  answered 
Lord  Evandale^  ^'  and  also  Hackston  of  Rathillet,  Paton  of 
Meadowhead,  Cleland,  and  some  other  men  of  military  skill." 

"I  judged  as  much,"  said  Claverhouse,  *'from  the  style 
in  which  these  detached  horsemen  leaped  their  horses  over  the 
ditch  as  they  returned  to  their  position.  It  was  easy  to  see 
that  there  were  a  few  Roundhead  troopers  among  them, 
the  true  spawn  of  the  old  Covenant.  We  must  manage  this 
matter  warily  as  well  as  boldly.  Evandale,  let  the  officers 
come  to  this  knoll." 

He  moved  to  a  small  moss-grown  cEum,  probably  the 
resting-place  of  some  Celtic  chief  of  other  times,  and  the  call 
of  "  Officers  to  the  front"  soon  brought  them  around  their 
commander. 

'*  I  do  not  call  you  around  me,  gentlemen,"  said  Claver- 
house, "  in  the  formal  capacity  of  a  council  of  war,  for  I  will 
never  turn  over  on  others  the  responsibility  which  my  rank 
imposes  on  myself.  I  only  want  the  benefit  of  your  opinions, 
reserving  to  myself,  as  most  men  do  when  they  ask  advice,  the 
liberty  of  following  my  own.  What  say  you.  Cornet  Grahame  ? 
Shall  we  attack  these  fellows  who  are  bellowing  yonder  ? 
You  are  youngest  and  hottest,  and  therefore  will  speak  first 
whether  I  will  or  no." 

"Then,"  said  Comet  Grahame,  "while  I  have  the  honor 
to  carry  the  standard  of  the  Life  Guards  it  shall  never,  with 
my  will,  retreat  before  rebels.  I  say,  charge,  in  God's  name 
and  the  king's  ! " 

"And  what  say  you,  Allan?"    continued   Claverhouse, 


148  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''  for  Evandale  is  so  modest  we  shall  never  get  him  to  speak 
till  you  have  said  what  you  have  to  say." 

''  These  fellows/'  said  Major  Allan,  an  old  Cavalier  officer 
of  experience,  ''are  three  or  four  to  one  ;  I  should  not  mind 
that  much  upon  a  fair  field,  but  they  are  posted  in  a  very  for- 
midable strength,  and  show  no  inclination  to  quit  it.  I  there- 
fore think,  with  deference  to  Cornet  Grahame's  opinion,  that 
we  should  draw  back  to  Tillietudlem,  occupy  the  pass  between 
the  hills  and  the  open  country?,  and  send  for  reinforcements 
to  my  Lord  Ross,  who  is  lying  at  Glasgow  with  a  regiment  of 
infantry.  In  this  way  we  should  cut  them  off  from  tlie  Strath 
of  Clyde,  and  either  compel  them  to  come  out  of  their  strong- 
hold and  give  us  battle  on  fair  terms,  or  if  they  remain  here 
we  will  attack  them  so  soon  as  our  infantry  has  joined  us  and 
enabled  us  to  act  with  effect  among  these  ditches,  bogs,  and 
quagmires. "" 

''  Pshaw  I"  said  the  young  Cornet,  *' what  signifies  strong 
ground  when  it  is  only  held  by  a  crew  of  canting,  psalm-sing- 
ing old  women  ?  " 

"  A  man  may  fight  never  the  worse,"  retorted  Major  Allan, 
*'  for  honoring  both  his  Bible  and  Psalter.  These  fellows  will 
prove  as  stubborn  as  steel ;  I  know  them  of  old." 

*'  Their  nasal  psalmody,"  said  the  Cornet,  ''  reminds  our 
Major  of  the  race  of  Dunbar." 

*'  Had  you  been  at  that  race,  young  man,"  retorted  Allan, 
''you  would  have  wanted  nothing  to  remind  you  of  it  for  the 
longest  day  you  have  to  live." 

"Hush, "hush,  gentlemen,"  said  Claverhouse,  "these  are 
untimely  repartees.  I  should  like  your  advice  well,  Major 
Allan,  had  our  rascally  patrols — whom  I  will  see  duly  punished 
— brought  us  timely  notice  of  the  enemy's  numbers  and  posi- 
tion. But  having  once  presented  ourselves  before  them  in 
line,  the  retreat  of  the  Life  Guards  would  argue  gross  timidity 
and  be  the  general  signal  for  insurrection  throughout  the  west ; 
in  which  case,  so  far  from  obtaining  any  assistance  from  my 
Lord  Eoss,  I  promise  you  I  should  have  great  apprehensions 
of  his  being  cut  off  before  we  can  join  him,  or  he  us.  A  re- 
treat would  have  quite  the  same  fatal  effect  upon  the  king's 
cause  as  the  loss  of  a  battle  ;  and  as  to  the  difference  of  risk 
or  of  safety  it  might  make  with  respect  to  ourselves,  that,  I 
am  sure,  no  gentleman  thinks  a  moment  about.  There  must 
be  some  gorges  or  passes  in  the  morass  through  which  we  can 
force  our  way  ;  and  were  we  once  on  firm  ground,  I  trust  there 
is  no  man  in  the  Life  Guards  who  supposes  our  sqjuadrons, 
though  so  weak  in  numbers,  are  unable  to  trample  mto  dust 


OLD  MORTALITY  149 

twice  the  number  of  these  unpractised  clowns.     What  say  you, 
my  Lord  Evandale  ^  " 

"1  humbly  think,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "that  go  the  day 
how  it  will  it  must  be  a  bloody  one  ;  and  that  we  shall  lose 
many  brave  fellows,  and  probably  be  obliged  to  slaughter  a 
great  number  of  these  misguided  men,  who,  after  all,  are 
Scotchmen  and  subjects  of  King  Charles  as  well  as  we  are." 

*'  Rebels  !  rebels  !  and  undeserving  tlie  name  either  of 
Scotchmen  or  of  subjects,"  said  Claverhouse  ;  *'  but  come,  my 
lord,  what  does  your  opinion  point  at  ?  " 

"  To  enter  into  a  treaty  with  these  ignorant  and  misled 
men,"  said  the  young  nobleman. 

*'  A  treaty  !  and  with  rebels  having  arms  in  their  hands  ! 
Xever  while  I  live,"  answered  his  commander. 

"At  least  send  a  trumpet  and  flag  of  truce  summoning 
them  to  lay  down  their  weapons  and  disperse,"  said  Lord 
Evandale,  "  upon  promise  of  a  free  pardon.  I  have  always 
heard  that  had  that  been  done  before  the  battle  of  Pentland 
Hills  much  blood  might  have  been  saved.  " 

"  Well,"  said  Claverhouse,  "  and  who  the  devil  do  you 
think  would  carry  a  summons  to  these  headstrong  and  des- 
perate fanatics  ?  They  acknowledge  no  laws  of  war.  Their 
leaders,  who  have  been  all  most  active  in  the  murder  of  the 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews,  figlit  with  a  rope  round  their 
necks,  and  are  likely  to  kill  the  messenger,  were  it  but  to  dip 
their  followers  in  loyal  blood,  and  to  make  them  as  desperate 
of  pardon  as  themselves." 

"  I  will  go  myself,"  said  Evandale,  "  if  you  will  permit  me. 
I  have  often  risked  my  blood  to  spill  that  of  others  ;  let  me 
do  so  now  in  order  to  save  human  lives." 

"  You  shall  not  go  on  such  an  errand,  my  lord,"  said 
Claverhouse  ;  "  your  rank  and  situation  render  your  safety  of 
too  much  consequence  to  the  country  in  an  age  when  good  prin- 
ciples are  so  rare.  Here's  my  brother's  son,  Dick  Grahame, 
who  fears  shot  or  steel  as  little  as  if  the  devil  had  given  him 
armor  of  proof  against  it,  as  the  fanatics  say  he  has  given  to 
his  uncle.  He  shall  take  a  flag  of  truce  and  a  trumpet,  and 
ride  down  to  the  edge  of  the  morass  to  summon  them  to  lay 
down  their  arms  and  disperse." 

"  With  all  my  soul.  Colonel,"  answered  the  Cornet ;  "and 
ril  tie  my  cravat  on  a  pike  to  serve  for  a  white  flag  ;  the  ras- 
cals never  saw  such  a. pennon  of  Flanders  lace  in  their  lives 
before." 

"  Colonel  Grahame,"  said  Evandale,  while  the  young  offi- 
cer prepared  for  his  expedition,  "this  young  gentleman  is 


150  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

youT  nephew  and  your  apparent  heir  ;  for  God's  sake,  permit 
me  to  go.  It  was  my  counsel,  and  I  ought  to  stand  the  risk." 
"Were  he  my  only  son/'  said  Claverhouse,  "this  is  no 
cause  and  no  time  to  spare  him.  I  hope  my  private  affections 
will  never  interfere  with  my  public  duty.  If  Dick  Grahame 
falls,  the  loss  is  chiefly  mine  ;  were  your  lordship  to  die,  the 
king  and  country  would  be  the  sufferers.  Come,  gentlemen, 
each  to  his  post.  If  our  summons  is  unfavorably  received  we 
will  instantly  attack  ;  and,  as  the  old  Scottish  blazon  has  it, 
'Godshaw  the  right  r^' 


CHAPTEK  XVI 

With  many  a  stout  thwack  and  many  a  bang. 
Hard  crab- tree  and  old  iron  rang. 

Hudibras, 

OoRN"ET  Richard  Grahame  aescended  the  hill,  bearing  in 
his  hand  the  extempore  flag  of  truce,  and  making  his  managed 
horse  keep  time  by  bounds  and  curvets  to  the  tune  which  he 
whistled.  The  trumpeter  followed.  Five  or  six  horsemen, 
having  something  the  appearance  of  officers,  detached  them- 
selves from  each  flank  of  the  Presbyterian  army,  and  meeting 
in  the  centre,  approached  the  ditch  which  divided  the  hollow 
as  near  as  the  morass  would  permit.  Towards  this  group, 
but  keeping  the  opposite  side  of  the  swamp.  Cornet  Grahame 
directed  his  horse,  his  motions  being  now  the  conspicuous 
object  of  attention  to  both  armies ;  and,  without  disparage- 
ment to  the  courage  of  either,  it  is  probable  there  was  a 
general  wish  on  both  sides  that  this  embassy  might  save  the 
risks  and  bloodshed  of  the  impending  conflict. 

When  he  had  arrived  right  opposite  to  those  who,  by  their 
advancing  to  receive  his  message,  seemed  to  take  upon  them- 
selves as  the  leaders  of  the  enemy,  Cornet  Grahame  com- 
manded his  trumpeter  to  sound  a  parley.  The  insurgents 
having  no  instrument  of  martial  music  wherewith  to  make 
the  appropriate  reply,  one  of  their  number  called  out  with  a 
loud,  strong  voice,  demanding  to  know  why  he  approached 
their  leaguer. 

*^  To  summon  you  in  the  king^G  name  and  in  that  of  Col- 
onel John  Grahame  of  Claverhouse,  specially  commissioned 
by  the  right  honorable  Privy  Council  of  Scotland,^'  answered 
the  Cornet,  ^'to  lay  down  your  arms  and  dismiss  the  followers 
whom  ye  have  led  into  rebellion,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  God, 
of  the  king,  and  of  the  country."*' 

'^Return  to  them  that  sent  thee,"  said  the  insurgent 
leader,  ^^and  tell  them  that  we  are  this  day  in  arms  for  a 
broken  Covenant  and  a  persecuted  Kirk ;  tell  them  that  we 
renounce  the  licentious  and  perjured  Charles  Stewart,  whom 
you  call  king,  even  as  he  renounced  the  Covenant  after  hav- 

161 


153  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing  once  and  again  sworn  to  prosecute  to  the  utmost  of  his 
power  all  the  ends  thereof,  really,  constantly,  and  sincerely 
all  the  days  of  his  life,  having  no  enemies  but  the  enemies  of 
the  Covenant,  and  no  friends  but  its  friends.  Whereas,  far 
from  keeping  tho  oath  he  had  called  God  and  angels  to  wit- 
ness, his  first  step,  after  his  incoming  into  these  kingdoms, 
was  the  fearful  grasping  at  the  prerogative  of  the  Almighty 
by  that  hideous  Act  of  Supremacy,  together  with  his  expuls- 
ing,  without  summons,  libel,  or  process  of  law,  hundreds  of 
famous,  faithful  preachers,  thereby  wringing  the  bread  of 
life  out  of  the  mouth  of  hungry,  poor  creatures,  and  forcibly 
cramming  their  throats  with  the  lifeless,  saltless,  foisonless, 
lukewarm  drammock  of  the  fourteen  false  prelates  and  their 
sycophantic,  formal,  carnal,  scandalous  creature-curates/' 

*^  I  did  not  come  to  hear  you  preach,"^  answered  the  officerp 
''  but  to  know  in  one  word  if  you  will  disperse  yourselves,  on 
condition  of  a  free  pardon  to  all  but  the  murderers  of  the  late 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews,  or  whether  you  will  abide  the  at- 
tack of  his  Majesty^s  forces,  which  will  instantly  advance  upon 
you/' 

*'In  one  word,  then,''  answered  the  spokesman,  '*we  are 
here  with  our  swords  on  our  thighs,  as  men  that  watch  in  the 
night.  We  will  take  one  part  and  portion  together  as  brethren 
in  righteousness.  Whosoever  assails  us  in  our  good  cause,  his 
blood  be  on  his  own  head.  So  return  to  them  that  sent  thee, 
and  God  give  them  and  thee  a  sight  of  the  evil  of  your  ways  I  ^' 

*'  Is  not  your  name,"  said  the  Cornet,  who  began  to  recol- 
lect having  seen  the  person  whom  he  was  now  speaking  with, 
**  John  Balfour  of  Burley  ?'^' 

"And  if  it  be,"  said  the  spokesman,  "hast  thou  aught  to 
say  against  it  ?  " 

"Only,"  said  the  Cornet,  "that,  as  you  are  excluded 
from  pardon  in  the  name  of  the  king  and  of  my  commanding 
•officer,  it  is  to  these  country  people,  and  not  to  you,  that  I  of- 
fer it ;  and  it  is  not  with  you,  or  such  as  you,  that  I  am  sent 
to  treat." 

"Thou  art  a  young  soldier,  friend,"  said  Burley,  -^and 
scant  well  learned  in  thy  trade,  or  thou  wouldst  know  that  the 
bearer  of  a  flag  of  truce  cannot  treat  with  the  army,  but  through 
their  officers  ;  and  that  if  he  presume  to  do  otherwise,  he  for- 
feits his  safe- conduct." 

While  speaking  these  words,  Burley  unslung  his  carabine 
and  held  it  in  readiness. 

"  I  am  not  to  be  intimidated  from  the  discharge  of  my 
duty  by  the  menaces  of  a  murderer,"  said  Cornet  Grahame. 


OLD  MORTALITY  158 

"  Hear  me,  good  people  ;  I  proclaim,  in  the  name  of  the  king 
and  of  my  commanding  officer,  full  and  free  pardon  to  all,  ex- 
cepting  '' 

"\  give  thee  fair  warning,^' said  Bnrley,  presenting  his 
piece. 

"  A  free  pardon  to  all,^'  continued  the  young  officer,  still 
addressing  the  body  of  the  insurgents — ^'  to  all  but " 

'*  Then  the  Lord  grant  grace  to  thy  soul.  Amen  \"  said 
Burley. 

With  these  words  he  fired,  and  Cornet  Richard  Grahame 
dropped  from  his  horse.  The  shot  was  mortal.  The  un- 
fortunate young  gentleman  had  only  strength  to  turn  himself 
on  the  ground  and  mutter  forth,  **  My  poor  mother  !  "  when 
life  forsook  him  in  the  effort.  His  startled  horse  fled  back  to 
the  regiment  at  the  gallop,  as  did  his  scarce  less  affrighted 
attendant. 

"  What  have  you  done  ?  '^  said  one  of  Balfour's  brother 
officers. 

''My  duty,''  said  Balfour,  firmly.  ''Is  it  not  written, 
'  Thou  shalt  be  zealous  even  to  slaying  ? '  Let  those  who 
dare  Kow  venture  to  speak  of  truce  or  pardon  !"  * 

Claverhouse  saw  his  nephew  fall.  He  turned  his  eye  on 
Evandale,  while  a  transitory  glance  of  indescribable  emotion 
disturbed  for  a  second's  space  the  serenity  of  his  features, 
and  briefly  said,  "  You  see  the  event." 

**  I  will  avenge  him,  or  die  ! "  exclaimed  Evandale  ;  and, 
putting  his  horse  into  motion,  rode  furiously  down  the  hill, 
followed  by  his  own  troop  and  that  of  the  deceased  Cornet, 
which  broke  down  without  orders ;  and,  each  striving  to  be 
the  foremost  to  revenge  their  young  officer,  their  ranks  soon 
fell  into  confusion.  These  forces  formed  the  first  line  of  the 
Royalists.  It  was  in  vain  that  Claverhouse  exclaimed,  ^'  Halt ! 
halt !  this  rashness  will  undo  us."  It  was  all  that  he  could  ac- 
complish by  galloping  along  the  second  line,  entreating,  com- 
manding, and  even  menacing  the  men  with  his  sword,  that  he 
could  restrain  them  from  following  an  example  so  contagious. 

*'  Allan,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  had  rendered  the  men  in  some 
degree  more  steady,  ''lead  them  slowly  down  the  hill  to  sup- 
port Lord  Evandale,  who  is  about  to  need  it  very  much.  Both- 
well,  thou  art  a  cool  and  a  daring  fellow " 

"  Ay,"  muttered  Bothwell,  "you  can  remember  that  in  a 
moment  like  this." 

"Lead  ten  file  up  the  hollow  to  the  right,"  continued  his 
commanding  officer,  "  and  try  every  means  to  get  through  the 

♦  See  Comet  Grahame.    ^ote;^l. 


164  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bog ;  then  form  and  charge  the  rebels  in  flank  and  rear  while 
they  are  engaged  with  us  in  front /^ 

Both  well  made  a  signal  of  intelligence  and  obedience,  and 
moved  off  with  his  party  at  a  rapid  pace. 

Meantime  the  disaster  which  Olaverhouse  had  apprehended 
did  not  fail  to  take  place.  The  troopers  who,  with  Lord 
Evandale,  had  rushed  down  upon  the  enemy,  soon  found  their 
disorderly  career  interrupted  by  the  impracticable  character 
of  the  ground.  Some  stuck  fast  in  the  morass  as  they  at- 
tempted to  struggle  through,  some  recoiled  from  the  attempt 
and  remained  on  the  brink,  others  dispersed  to  seek  a  more 
favorable  place  to  pass  the  swamp.  In  the  midst  of  this  con- 
fusion the  first  line  of  the  enemy,  of  which  the  foremost  rank 
knelt,  the  second  stooped,  and  the  third  stood  upright,  poured 
in  a  close  and  destructive  fire  that  emptied  at  least  a  score  of 
saddles,  and  increased  tenfold  the  disorder  into  which  the 
horsemen  had  fallen.  Lord  Evandale  in  the  meantime,  at 
the  head  of  a  very  few  well-mounted  men,  had  been  able  to 
clear  the  ditch,  but  was  no  sooner  across  than  he  was  charged 
by  the  left  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry,  who,  encouraged  by 
the  small  number  of  opponents  that  had  made  their  way 
through  the  broken  ground,  set  upon  them  with  the  utmost 
fury,  crying,  *^Woe,  woe  to  the  uncircumcised  Philistines! 
down  with  Dagon  and  all  his  adherents ! " 

The  young  nobleman  fought  like  a  lion ;  but  most  of  his 
followers  were  killed,  and  he  himself  could  not  have  escaped 
the  same  fate  but  for  a  heavy  fire  of  carabines  which  Olaver- 
house, who  had  now  advanced  with  the  second  line  near  to 
the  ditch,  poured  so  effectually  upon  the  enemy  that  both 
horse  and  foot  for  a  moment  began  to  shrink,  and  Lord  Evan- 
dale, disengaged  from  his  unequal  combat,  and  finding  him- 
self nearly  alone,  took  the  opportunity  to  effect  his  retreat 
through  the  morass.  But,  notwithstanding  the  loss  they  had 
sustained  by  Claverhouse's  first  fire,  the  insurgents  became 
soon  aware  that  the  advantage  of  numbers  and  of  position 
were  so  decidedly  theirs  that,  if  they  could  but  persist  in 
making  a  brief  but  resolute  defence,  the  Life  Guards  must 
necessarily  be  defeated.  Their  leaders  flew  through  their  ranks 
exhorting  them  to  stand  firm,  and  pointing  out  how  effica- 
cious their  fire  must  be  where  both  men  and  horse  were  ex- 
posed to  it ;  for  the  troopers,  according  to  custom,  fired  with- 
out having  dismounted.  Olaverhouse  more  than  once,  when 
he  perceived  his  best  men  dropping  by  a  fire  which  they  could 
not  effectually  return,  made  desperate  efforts  to  pass  the  bog 
at  various  points  and  renew  the  battle  on  firm  ground  ana 


OLD  MORTALITY  1S5 

fiercer  terms.  But  the  close  fire  of  the  insurgents,  joined  to 
the  natural  difficulties  of  the  pass,  foiled  his  attempts  in  every 
point. 

"  We  must  retreat/'  he  said  to  Evandale,  "  unless  Both- 
well  can  effect  a  diversion  in  our  favor.  In  the  meantime 
draw  the  men  out  of  fire  and  leave  skirmishers  behind  these 
patches  of  alder-bushes  to  keep  the  enemy  in  check. ^' 

These  directions  being  accomplished,  the  appearance  of 
Bothwell  with  his  party  was  earnestly  expected.  But  Both- 
well  had  his  own  disadvantages  to  struggle  with.  His  detour 
to  the  right  had  not  escaped  the  penetrating  observation  of 
Burley,  who  made  a  corresponding  movement  with  the  left 
wing  of  the  mounted  insurgents,  so  that  when  Bothwell, 
after  riding  a  considerable  way  up  the  valley,  found  a  place 
at  which  the  bog  could  be  passed,  though  with  some  difficulty, 
he  perceived  he  was  still  in  front  of  a  superior  enemy.  His 
daring  character  was  in  no  degree  checked  by  this  unexpected 
opposition. 

^'  Follow  me,  my  lads  V  he  called  to  his  men  ;  ''  never 
let  it  be  said  that  we  turned  our  backs  before  these  canting 
Eoundheads  ! " 

With  that,  as  if  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  his  ancestors,  he 
shouted,  "  Bothwell  !  Bothwell  \"  and  throwing  himself  into 
the  morass,  he  struggled  through  it  at  the  head  of  his  party, 
and  attacked  that  of  Burley  with  such  fury  that  he  drove 
them  back  above  a  pistol-shot,  killing  three  men  with  his 
own  hand.  Burley,  perceiving  the  consequences  of  a  defeat 
on  this  point,  and  that  his  men,  though  more  numerous,  were 
unequal  to  the  regulars  in  using  their  arms  and  managing 
their  horses,  threw  himself  across  BothwelFs  way  and  at- 
tacked him  hand  to  hand.  Each  of  the  combatants  was  con-  ,^ 
sidered  as  the  champion  of  his  respective  party,  and  a  result 
ensued  more  usual  in  romance  than  in  real  story.     Their  fol-  v .  , 

lowers  on  eithei'  side  instantly  paused  and  looked  on  as  if  the  ,  v^ 
fate  of  the  day  were  to  be  decided  by  the  event  of  the  combat 
between  these  two  redoubted  swordsmen.  The  combatants 
themselves  seemed  of  the  same  opinion  ;  for,  after  two  or 
three  eager  cuts  and  pushes  had  been  exchanged,  they  paused, 
as  if  by  joint  consent,  to  recover  the  breath  which  preceding 
exertions  had  exhausted,  and  to  prepare  for  a  duel  in  which 
each  seemed  conscious  he  had  met  his  match. 

**^  You  are  the  murdering  villain,  Burley,"  said  Bothwell, 
griping  his  sword  firmly,  and  setting  his  teeth  close  ;  '^  you 
escaped  me  once,  but  [he  swore  an  oath  too  tremendous  to  be 
written  down]  thy  head  is  worth  its  weight  of  silver,  and  it 


IM  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

shall  go  home  at  my  saddle-bow,  or    my  saddle   shall  go 
home  empty  for  me." 

*'  Yes,"  replied  Burley,  with  stern  and  gloomy  deliberation, 
*'  I  am  that  John  Balfour  who  promised  to  lay  thy  head  where 
thou  shouldst  never  lift  it  again  ;  and  God  do  so  unto  me,  and 
more  also,  if  I  do  not  redeem  my  word  ! " 

"  Then  a  bed  of  heather  or  a  thousand  merks  ! "  said  Both- 
well,  striking  at  Burley  with  his  full  force. 

"The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon !"  answered  Bal- 
four, as  he  parried  and  returned  the  blow. 

There  have  seldom  met  two  combatants  more  equally 
matched  in  strength  of  body,  skill  in  the  management  of  their 
weapons  and  horses,  determined  courage,  and  unrelenting 
hostility.  After  exchanging  many  desperate  blows,  each  re- 
ceiving and  inflicting  several  wounds,  though  of  no  great 
consequence,  they  grappled  together  as  if  with  the  desperate 
impatience  of  mortal  hate,  and  Both  well,  seizing  his  enemy  by 
the  shoulder-belt,  while  the  grasp  of  Balfour  was  upon  his  own 
collar,  they  came  headlong  to  the  ground.  The  companions  of 
Barley  hastened  to  his  assistance,  but  were  repelled  by  the 
dragoons,  and  the  battle  became  again  general.  But  nothing 
could  withdraw  the  attention  of  the  combatants  from  each 
other,  or  induce  them  to  unclose  the  deadly  clasp  in  which 
they  rolled  together  on  the  ground,  tearing,  struggling,  and 
foaming  with  the  inveteracy  of  thoroughbred  bull-dogs. 

Several  horses  passed  over  them  in  the  melee  without  their 
quitting  hold  of  each  other,  until  the  sword-arm  of  Both  well 
was  broken  by  the  kick  of  a  charger.  He  then  relinquished 
his  grasp  with  a  deep  and  suppressed  groan,  and  both  comba- 
tants started  to  their  feet.  Bothwell's  right  hand  dropped 
helpless  by  his  side,  but  his  left  griped  to  the  place  where  his 
dagger  hung ;  it  had  escaped  from  the  sheath  in  the  struggle, 
and,  with  a  look  of  mingled  rage  and  despair,  he  stood  totally 
defenceless  as  Balfour,  with  a  laugh  of  savage  joy,  flourished 
his  sword  aloft,  and  then  passed  it  through  his  adversary's  body. 
Both  well  received  the  thrust  without  falling;  it  had  only 
grazed  on  his  ribs.  He  attempted  no  further  defence,  but,  look- 
ing at  Burley  with  a  grin  of  deadly  hatred,  exclaimed,  ''Base 
peasant  churl,  thou  hast  spilt  the  blood  of  a  line  of  kings  !" 

*'Die,  wretch  !  die  !"  said  Balfour,  redoubling  the  thrust 
with  better  aim  ;  and,  setting  his  foot  on  BothwelFs  body  as 
he  fell,  he  a  third  time  transfixed  him  with  his  sword.  *'  Die, 
bloodtliirsty  dog  !  die  as  thou  hast  lived  !  die  like  the  beasts 
that  perish,  hoping  nothing,  believing  nothing " 

*' And  FEABiJNG  nothing!"  said  Bothwell,  collecting  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  Wl 

laat  effort  of  respiration  to  utter  these  desperate  words,  and 
expiring  as  soon  as  they  wore  spoken. 

To  catch  a  stray  horse  by  the  bridle,  throw  himself  upon 
it,  and  rush  to  the  assistance  of  his  followers,  was  with  Burley 
the  affair  of  a  moment.  And  as  the  fall  of  Bothwell  had 
given  to  the  insurgents  all  the  courage  of  which  it  had  de- 
prived his  comrades,  the  issue  of  this  partial  contest  did  not 
remain  long  undecided.  Several  soldiers  were  slain,  the  rest 
driven  back  over  the  morass  and  dispersed,  and  the  victori- 
ous Burley,  with  his  party,  crossed  it  in  their  turn,  to  direct 
against  Claverhouse  the  very  manoeuvre  which  he  had  in- 
structed Bothwell  to  execute.  He  now  put  his  troop  in  order 
with  the  view  of  attacking  the  right  wing  of  the  Eoyalists  ; 
and,  sending  news  of  his  success  to  the  main  body,  exhorted 
them,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  to  cross  the  marsh  and  work 
out  the  glorious  work  of  the  Lord  by  a  general  attack  upon 
the  enemy. 

Meanwhile  Claverhouse,  who  had  in  some  degree  remedied 
the  confusion  occasioned  by  the  first  irregular  and  unsuc- 
cessful attack,  and  reduced  the  combat  in  front  to  a  distant 
skirmish  with  firearms,  chiefly  maintained  by  some  dismounted 
troopers  whom  he  had  posted  behind  the  cover  of  the  shrubby 
copses  of  alders,  which  in  some  places  covered  the  edge  of 
the  morass,  and  whose  close,  cool,  and  well-aimed  fire  greatly 
annoyed  the  enemy,  and  concealed  their  own  deficiency  of 
numbers — Claverhouse,  while  he  maintained  the  contest  in 
this  manner,  still  expecting  that  a  diversion  by  Bothwell  and 
his  party  might  facilitate  a  general  attack,  was  accosted  by 
one  of  the  dragoons,  whose  bloody  face  and  jaded  horse  bore 
witness  he  was  come  from  hard  service. 

*'  What  is  the  matter,  Halliday  ?'*  said  Claverhouse,  for 
he  knew  every  man  in  his  regiment  by  name.  ''Where  is 
Bothwell?" 

"  Bothwell  is  down,''  replied  Halliday,  '^  and  many  a  pretty 
fellow  with  him.'' 

**Then  the  king,"  said  Claverhouse,  with  his  usual  com- 
posure, *'  has  lost  a  stout  soldier.  The  enemy  have  passed  the 
marsh,  I  suppose  ?" 

^'  With  a  strong  body  of  horse,  commanded  by  the  devil 
incarnate  that  killed  Bothwell,"  answered  the  terrified  soldier. 

'*^Hush  !  hush  !"  said  Claverhouse,  putting  his  finger  on 
his  lips,  '^  not  a  word  to  any  one  but  me.  Lord  Evandale,  we 
must  retreat.  The  fates  will  have  it  so.  Draw  together  the 
men  that  are  dispersed  in  the  skirmishing  work.  Let  Allan 
form  the  regiment,  and  do  you  two  retreat  up  the  hill  in  two 


158  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bodies,  each  halting  alternately  as  the  other  falls  back.  I'll 
keep  the  rogues  in  check  with  the  rear-guard,  making  a  stand 
and  facing  from  time  to  time.  They  will  be  over  the  ditch 
presently,  for  I  see  their  whole  line  in  motion  and  preparing 
to  cross;  therefore  lose  no  time.'' 

"  Where  is  Both  well  with  his  party  ?  "  said  Lord  Evandale, 
astonished  at  the  coolness  of  his  commander. 

"Fairly  disposed  of,"  said  Claverhouse,  in  his  ear  ;  "the 
king  has  lost  a  servant  and  the  devil  has  got  one.  But  away 
to  business,  Evandale  ;  ply  your  spurs  and  get  the  men  to- 
gether. Allan  and  you  must  keep  them  steady.  This  re- 
treating is  new  work  for  us  all ;  but  our  turn  will  come  round 
another  day." 

Evandale  and  Allan  betook  themselves  to  their  task  ;  but 
ere  they  had  arranged  the  regiment  for  the  purpose  of  retreat- 
ing in  two  alternate  bodies,  a  considerable  number  of  the 
enemy  had  crossed  the  marsh.  Claverhouse,  who  had  retained 
immediately  around  his  person  a  few  of  his  most  active  and 
tried  men,  charged  those  who  had  crossed  in  person  while  they 
were  yet  disordered  by  the  broken  ground.  Some  they  killed, 
others  they  repulsed  into  the  morass,  and  checked  the  whole 
so  as  to  enable  the  main  body,  now  greatly  diminished,  as  well 
as  disheartened  by  the  loss  they  had  sustained,  to  commence 
their  retreat  up  the  hill. 

But  the  enemy's  van,  being  soon  reinforced  and  supported, 
compelled  Claverhouse  to  follow  his  troops.  Never  did  man, 
however,  better  maintain  the  character  of  a  soldier  than  he 
did  that  day.  Conspicuous  by  his  black  horse  and  white 
feather,  he  was  first  in  the  repeated  charges  which  he  made  at 
every  favorable  opportunity  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  pur- 
suers and  to  cover  the  retreat  of  his  regiment.  The  object  of 
aim  to  every  one,  he  seemed  as  if  he  were  impassive  to  their 
shot.  The  superstitious  fanatics,  who  looked  upon  him  as  a 
man  gifted  by  the  Evil  Spirit  with  supernatural  means  of  de- 
fence, averred  that  they  saw  the  bullets  recoil  from  his  jack- 
boots and  bufl-cpat  like  hailstones  from  a  rock  of  granite,  as 
he  galloped  to  and  fro  amid  the  storm  of  the  battle.  Many  a 
Whig  that  day  loaded  his  musket  with  a  dollar  cut  into  slugs, 
in  order  that  a  silver  bullet  (such  was  their  belief)  might 
bring  down  the  persecutor  of  the  holy  kirk,  on  whom  lead  had 
no  power. 

"  Try  him  with  the  cold  steel,"  was  the  cry  at  every  renewed 
charge  ;  "powder  is  wasted  on  him.  Ye  might  as  weel  shoot 
at  the  Aula  Enemy  himsell."  * 

♦  See  Proof  against  Shot  given  by  Satan.    Note  23. 


01.D  MORTALITY  159 

But  though  this  was  loudly  shouted,  yet  the  awe  on  the  in- 
surgents' minds  was  such  that  they  gave  way  before  Claver- 
house  as  before  a  supernatural  being,  and  few  men  ventured  to 
cross  swords  with  him.  Still,  however,  he  was  lighting  in  re- 
treat, and  with  all  the  disadvantages  attending  that  move- 
ment. The  soldiers  behind  him,  as  they  beheld  the  increasing 
number  of  enemies  who  poured  over  the  morass,  became  un- 
steady ;  and  at  every  successive  movement  Major  Allan  and 
LordEvandale  found  it  more  and  more  difficult  to  bring  them 
to  halt  and  form  line  regularly ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
their  motions  in  the  act  of  retreating  became  by  degrees  much 
more  rapid  than  was  consistent  with  good  order.  As  the 
retiring  soldiers  approached  nearer  to  the  top  of  the  ridge, 
from  which  in  so  luckless  an  hour  they  had  descended,  the 
panic  began  to  increase.  Everyone  became  impatient  to  place 
the  brow  of  the  hill  between  him  and  the  continued  fire  of 
the  pursuers  ;  nor  could  any  individual  think  it  reasonable 
that  he  should  be  the  last  in  the  retreat,  and  thus  sacrifice  his 
own  safety  for  that  of  others.  In  this  mood  several  troopers 
set  spurs  to  their  horses  and  fled  outright,  and  the  others  be- 
came so  unsteady  in  their  movements  and  formations  that 
their  officers  every  moment  feared  they  would  follow  the  same 
example. 

Amid  this  scene  of  blood  and  confusion,  the  trampling  of 
the  horses,  the  groans  of  the  wounded,  the  continued  fire  of 
the  enemy,  which  fell  in  a  succession  of  unintermitted  mus- 
ketry, while  loud  shouts  accompanied  each  bullet  which  the 
fall  of  a  trooper  showed  to  have  been  successfully  aimed — 
amid  all  the  terrors  and  disorders  of  such  a  scene,  and  when 
it  was  dubious  how  soon  they  might  be  totally  deserted  by  their 
dispirited  soldiery,  Evandale  could  not  forbear  remarking  the 
composure  of  his  commanding  officer.  Not  at  Lady  Marga- 
ret's breakfast-table  that  morning  did  his  eye  appear  more 
lively,  or  his  demeanor  more  composed.  He  had  closed  up  to 
Evandale  for  the  purpose  of  giving  some  orders  and  picking 
out  a  few  men  to  reinforce  his  rear-guard. 

'^  If  this  bout  lasts  five  minutes  longer,'' he  said  in  a  whis- 
per, ''  our  rogues  will  leave  you,  my  lord,  old  Allan,  and  my- 
self the  honor  of  fighting  this  battle  with  our  own  hands.  I 
must  do  something  to  disperse  the  musketeers  who  annoy 
them  so  hard,  or  we  shall  be  all  shamed.  Don't  attempt  to 
succor  me  if  you  see  me  go  down,  but  keep  at  the  head  of  your 
men  ;  get  off  as  you  can,  in  God's  name,  and  tell  the  king  and 
the  council  I  died  in  my  duty  !  " 

So  saying,  and  commanding  about  twenty  stout  men  to 


160  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

follow  him,  he  gave,  with  this  small  body,  a  charge  so  des- 
perate and  unexpected  that  he  drove  the  foremost  of  the  pur- 
suers back  to  some  distance.  In  the  confusion  of  the  assault 
he  singled  out  Burley,  and,  desirous  to  strike  terror  into  his 
followers,  he  dealt  him  so  severe  a  blow  on  the  head  as  cut 
through  his  steel  headpiece  and  threw  him  from  his  horse, 
stunned  for  the  moment,  though  unwounded.  A  wonderful 
thing,  it  was  afterwards  thought,  that  one  so  powerful  as  Bal- 
four should  have  sunk  under  the  blow  of  a  man  to  appearance 
so  slightly  made  as  Claverhouse  ;  and  the  vulgar,  of  course, 
set  down  to  supernatural  aid  the  effect  of  that  energy  which  a 
determined  spirit  can  give  to  a  feebler  arm.  Claverhouse  had 
in  this  last  charge,  however,  involved  himself  too  deeply  among 
the  insurgents,  and  was  fairly  surrounded. 

Lord  Evandale  saw  the  danger  of  his  commander,  his  body 
of  dragoons  being  then  halted,  while  that  commanded  by  Allan 
was  in  the  act  of  retreating.  Regardless  of  Claverhouse^s 
disinterested  command  to  the  contrary,  he  ordered  the  party 
which  he  headed  to  charge  down  hill  and  extricate  their  Col- 
onel. Some  advanced  with  him,  most  halted  and  stood  uncer- 
tain, many  ran  away.  With  those  who  followed  Evandale, 
he  disengaged  Claverhouse.  His  assistance  just  came  in  time, 
for  a  rustic  had  wounded  his  horse  in  a  most  ghastly  manner 
by  the  blow  of  a  scythe,  and  was  about  to  repeat  the  stroke 
when  Lord  Evandale  cut  him  down.  As  they  got  out  of  the 
press  they  looked  round  them.  Allan^s  division  had  ridden 
clear  over  the  hill,  that  ofiQcer's  authority  having  proved  alto- 
gether unequal  to  halt  them.  Evandale's  troop  was  scattered 
and  in  total  confusion. 

*' What  is  to  be  done.  Colonel  ?"  said  Lord  Evandale. 

*'  We  are  the  last  men  in  the  field,  I  think,''  said  Claver- 
house ;  ^'  and  when  men  fight  as  long  as  they  can  there  is  no 
shame  in  flying.  Hector  himself  would  say,  '  Devil  take  the 
hindmost,'  when  there  are  but  twenty  against  a  thousand. 
Save  yourselves,  my  lads,  and  rally  as  soon  as  you  can.  Come, 
my  lord,  we  must  e'en  ride  for  it." 

So  saying,  he  put  spurs  to  his  wounded  horse ;  and  the 
generous  animal,  as  if  conscious  that  the  life  of  his  rider  de- 
pended on  his  exertions,  pressed  forward  with  speed  un- 
abated either  by  pain  or  loss  of  blood.  *  A  few  officers  and 
soldiers  followed  him,  but  in  a  very  irregular  and  tumultuary 
manner.  .  The  flight  of  Claverhouse  was  the  signal  for  all  the 
stragglers  who  yet  offered  desultory  resistance  to  fly  as  fast  as 
they  could,  and  yield  up  the  field  of  battle  to  the  victorious 
insurgents. 

*  See  caaverhouae's  Charger.    Note  23. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

But  see  !  through  the  fast-flashing  lightnings  of  war, 
What  steed  to  the  desert  flies  frantic  and  far? 

Campbell. 

DuRiKG  the  severe  skirmish  of  which  we  have  given  the 
details,  Morton,  together  with  Cuddie  and  his  mother  and 
the  Reverend  Gabriel  Kettledrummle,  remained  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill,  near  to  the  small  cairn  or  barrow,  beside  which 
Olaverhouse  had  held  his  preliminary  council  of  war,  so  that 
they  had  a  commanding  view  of  the  action  which  took  place  in 
the  bottom.  They  were  guarded  by  Corporal  Inglisand  four 
soldiers,  who,  as  may  readily  be  supposed,  were  much  more 
intent  on  watching  the  fluctuating  fortunes  of  the  battle  than 
in  attending  to  what  passed  among  the  prisoners. 

*^If  yon  lads  stand  to  their  tackle,"  said  Cuddie,  *' we'll 
hae  some  chance  o'  getting  our  necks  out  o'  the  brecham 
again  ;  but  I  misdoubt  them  ;  they  hae  little  skeel  o'  arms.'' 

''  Much  is  not  necessary,  Cuddie,"  answered  Morton  ; 
"  they  have  a  strong  position,  and  weapons  in  their  hands, 
and  are  more  than  three  times  the  number  of  their  assailants. 
If  they  cannot  fight  for  their  freedom  now,  they  and  theirs 
deserve  to  lose  it  forever." 

'^0,  sirs,"  exclaimed  Mause,  **^  here's  a  goodly  spectacle, 
indeed  !  My  spirit  is  like  that  of  the  blessed  Elihu  :  it  burns 
within  me  ;  my  bowels  are  as  wine  which  lacketh  vent,  they 
are  ready  to  burst  like  new  bottles.  0  that  He  may  look  after 
His  ain  people  in  this  day  of  judgment  and  deliverance  ! 
And  now,  what  ailest  thou,  precious  Mr.  Gabriel  Kettle- 
drummle ?  I  say,  what  ailest  thou  that  wert  a  Nazarite  purer 
than  snow,  whiter  than  milk,  more  ruddy  than  sulphur 
[meaning,  perhaps,  sapphires] — I  say,  what  ails  thee  now, 
that  thou  art  blacker  than  a  coal,  that  thy  beauty  is  departed, 
and  thy  loveliness  withered  like  a  dry  potsherd  ?  Surely  it 
is  time  to  be  up  and  be  doing,  to  cry  loudly  and  to  spare 
not,  and  to  wrestle  for  the  puir  lads  that  are  yonder  testifying 
with  their  ain  bluid  and  that  of  their  enemies." 

This  expostulation  implied  a  reproach  on  Mr.   Kettle- 

m 


163  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

drummle,  who,  though  an  absolute  Boanerges  or  son  of  thun- 
der in  the  pulpit,  when  the  enemy  were  afar,  and  indeed  suf- 
ficiently contumacious,  as  we  have  seen,  when  in  their  power, 
had  been  struck  dumb  by  the  firing,  shouts,  and  shrieks 
which  now  arose  from  the  valley,  and — as  many  an  honest 
man  might  have  been,  in  a  situation  where  he  could  neither 
fight  nor  fly — was  too  much  dismayed  to  take  so  favorable 
an  opportunity  to  preach  the  terrors  of  Presbytery,  as  the 
courageous  Mause  had  expected  at  his  hand,  or  even  to  pray 
for  the  successful  event  of  the  battle.  His  presence  of  mind 
was  not,  however,  entirely  lost  any  more  than  his  jealous  re- 
spect for  his  reputation  as  a  pure  and  powerful  preacher  of 
the  Word. 

*^Hold  your  peace,  woman  V  he  said,  "and  do  not  per- 
turb my  inward  meditations  and  the  wrestlings  wherewith  I 
wrestle.  But  of  a  verity  the  shooting  of  the  foemen  doth  be- 
gin to  increase ;  peradventure  some  pellet  may  attain  unto  us 
even  here.  Lo !  I  will  ensconce  me  behind  the  cairn,  as  be- 
hind a  strong  wall  of  defence." 

■''  He's  but  a  coward  body  after  sl'/'  said  Cuddie,  who  was 
himself  by  no  means  deficient  in  that  sort  of  courage  which 
consists  in  insensibility  to  danger  ;  '  ^  he's  but  a  daidling  coward 
body.  He'll  never  fill  Rumbleberry's  bonnet.  Odd  !  Rum- 
bleberry  fought  and  flyted  like  a  fleeing  dragon.  It  was  a 
great  pity,  puir  man,  he  couldna  cheat  the  woodie.  But  they 
say  he  gaed  singing  and  rejoicing  till't,  just  as  I  wad  gang  to 
a  bicker  ©'  brose,  supposing  me  hungry,  as  I  stand  a  gude 
chance  to  be.  Eh,  sirs  !  yon's  an  awfu'  sight,  and  yet  ane 
canna  keep  their  een  aff  frae  it ! " 

Accordingly,  strong  curiosity  on  the  part  of  Morton  and 
Ouddie,  together  with  the  heated  enthusiasm  of  old  Mause, 
detained  them  on  the  spot  from  which  they  could  best  hear 
and  see  the  issue  of  the  action,  leaving  to  Kettledrummle  to 
occupy  alone  his  place  of  security.  The  vicissitudes  of  com- 
bat, which  we  have  already  described,  were  witnessed  by  our 
spectators  from  the  top  of  the  eminence,  but  without  their 
being  able  positively  to  determine  to  what  they  tended.  That 
the  Presbyterians  defended  themselves  stoutly  was  evident 
from  the  heavy  smoke,  which,  illumined  by  frequent  flashes 
of  fire,  now  eddied  along  the  valley  and  hid  the  contending 
parties  in  its  sulphureous  shade.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
continued  firing  from  the  nearest  side  of  the  morass  indicated 
that  the  enemy  persevered  in  their  attack,  that  the  affair  was 
fiercely  disputed,  and  that  everything  was  to  be  apprehended 
from  a  continued  contest  in  which  undisciplined  rustics  had 


OLD  MORTALITY  163 

to  repel  the  assaults  of  regular  troops,  so  completely  ofiBcered 
and  armed. 

At  length  horses,  whose  caparisons  showed  that  they  be 
longed  to  the  Life  Guards,  began  to  fly  masterless  out  of  the 
confusion.  Dismounted  soldiers  next  appeared,  forsaking  the 
conflict  and  straggling  over  the  side  of  the  hill  in  order  to 
escape  from  the  scei-3  of  action.  As  the  numbers  of  these 
fugitives  increased,  the  fate  of  the  day  seemed  no  longer 
doubtful.  A  large  body  was  then  seen  emerging  from  the 
smoke,  forming  irregularly  on  the  hillside,  and  with  difficulty 
kept  stationary  by  their  officers,  until  Evandale's  corps  also 
appeared  in  full  retreat.  The  result  of  the  conflict  was  then 
apparent,  and  the  joy  of  the  prisoners  was  corresponding  to 
their  approaching  deliverance. 

*'  They  hae  dune  the  job  for  anes,"  said  Cuddie,  ^'  an  they 
ne'er  do't  again. '* 

''They  flee!  they  flee!'*  exclaimed  Mause,  in  ecstasy. 
"0,  the  truculent  tyrants  !  they  are  riding  now  as  they  never 
rode  before.  0,  the  false  Egyptians,  the  proud  Assyrians, 
the  Philistines,  the  Moabites,  the  Edomites,  the  Ishmaelites  ! 
The  Lord  has  brought  sharp  swords  upon  them  to  make  them 
food  for  the  fowls  of  heaven  and  the  beasts  of  the  field.  See 
how  the  clouds  roll  and  the  fire  flashes  ahint  them,  and  goes 
forth  before  the  chosen  of  the  Covenant,  e'en  like  the  pillar  o' 
cloud  and  the  pillar  o'  flame  that  led  the  people  of  Israel  out 
o'  the  land  of  Egypt !  This  is  indeed  a  day  of  deliverance  to 
the  righteous,  a  day  of  pouring  out  of  wrath  to  the  persecutors 
and  the  ungodly  ! " 

"Lord  save  us,  mither,"  said  Cuddie,  ''hand  the  claver- 
ing  tongue  o'  ye,  and  lie  down  ahint  the  cairn,  like  Kettle- 
drummle,  honest  man  !  The  Whigamore  bullets  ken  unco 
little  discretion,  and  will  just  as  sune  knock  out  the  harns  o' 
a  psalm-singing  auld  wife  as  a  swearing  dragoon." 

''Fear  naething  for  me,  Cuddie,"  said  the  old  dame, 
transported  to  ecstasy  by  the  success  of  her  party;  "fear 
naething  for  me  !  I  will  stand,  like  Deborah,  on  the  tap  o' 
the  cairn,  and  tak  up  my  sang  o'  reproach  against  these  men 
of  Harosheth  of  the  Gentiles,  whose  horse-hoofs  are  broken  by 
their  prancing." 

The  enthusiastic  old  woman  would,  in  fact,  have  accom- 
plished her  purpose  of  mounting  on  the  cairn  and  becoming, 
as  she  said,  a  sign  and  a  banner  to  the  people,  had  not  Cuddie, 
with  more  filial  tenderness  than  respect,  detained  her  by  such 
force  as  his  shackled  arms  would  permit  him  to  exert. 

"Eh,  sirs  ! "  he  said,  having  accomplished  this  task,  "look 


164  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

out  yonder,  Milnwood ;  saw  ye  ever  mortal  fight  like  the  deevil 
Claver'se  ?  Yonder  he's  been  thrice  doun  amang  them,  and 
thrice  cam  free  aff.  But  I  think  we'll  soon  be  free  oursells, 
Milnwood.  Inglis  and  his  troopers  look  ower  their  shouthers 
very  aften,  as  if  they  liked  the  road  ahint  them  better  than 
the  road  afore." 

Cuddie  was  not  mistaken  ;  for,  when  the  main  tide  of  fugi- 
tives passed  at  a  little  distance  from  the  spot  where  they  were 
stationed,  the  corporal  and  his  party  fired  their  carabines  at 
random  upon  the  advancing  insurgents,  and,  abandoning  all 
charge  of  their  prisoners,  joined  the  retreat  of  their  comrades. 
Morton  and  the  old  woman,  whose  hands  were  at  liberty,  lost 
no  time  in  undoing  the  bonds  of  Ouddie  and  of  the  clergyman, 
both  of  whom  had  been  secured  by  a  cord  tied  round  their 
arms  above  the  elbows.  By  the  time  this  was  accomplished, 
the  rear-gaard  of  the  dragoons,  which  still  preserved  some 
order,  passed  beneath  the  hillock  or  rising  ground  which  was 
surmounted  by  the  cairn  already  repeatedly  mentioned.  They 
exhibited  all  the  hurry  and  confusion  incident  to  a  forced  re- 
treat, but  still  continued  in  a  body.  Claverhouse  led  the  van, 
his  naked  sword  deeply  dyed  with  blood,  as  were  his  face  and 
clothes.  His  horse  was  all  covered  with  gore,  and  now  reeled 
with  weakness.  Lord  Evandale,  in  not  much  better  plight, 
brought  up  the  rear,  still  exhorting  the  soldiers  to  keep  to- 
gether and  fear  nothing.  Several  of  the  men  were  wounded, 
and  one  or  two  dropped  from  their  horses  as  they  surmounted 
the  hill. 

Mause's  zeal  broke  forth  once  more  at  this  spectacle,  while 
she  stood  on  the  heath  with  her  head  uncovered  and  her  gray 
hairs  streaming  in  the  wind,  no  bad  representation  of  a  super- 
annuated bacchante,  or  Thessalian  witch  in  the  agonies  of  in- 
cantation. She  soon  discovered  Claverhouse  at  the  head  of 
the  fugitive  party,  and  exclaimed  with  bitter  irony,  *'  Tarry, 
tarry,  ye  wha  were  aye  sae  blithe  to  be  at  the  meetings  of  the 
saints,  and  wad  ride  every  muir  in  Scotland  to  find  a  con- 
venticle. Wilt  thou  not  tarry  now  thou  hast  found  ane  ? 
Wilt  thou  not  stay  for  one  word  mair  ?  Wilt  thou  na  bide  the 
afternoon  preaching  ?  Wae  betide  ye  ! "  she  said,  suddenly 
changing  her  tone,  ^'  and  cut  the  houghs  of  the  creature  whase 
fleetness  ye  trust  in  !  Sheugh,  sheugh  !'  awa'  wi'  ye  that  liae 
spilled  sae  muckle  bluid,  and  now  wad  save  your  ain — awa'  wi' 
ye  for  a  railing  Rabshakeh,  a  cursing  Shimei,  a  bloodthirsty 
Doeg  I  The  sword's  drawn  now  that  winna  be  lang  o'  o'er- 
taking  ye,  ride  as  fast  as  ye  will." 

Claverhouse,  it  may  be  easily  supposed,  was  too  busy  to  at- 


OLD  MORTALITY  165 

tend  to  her  reproaches,  but  hastened  over  the  hill,  anxious  to 
get  the  remnant  of  his  men  out  of  gun-shot,  in  hopes  of  again 
collecting  the  fugitives  round  his  standard.  But  as  the  rear 
of  his  followers  rode  over  the  ridge  a  shot  struck  Lord  Evan- 
dale's  horse,  which  instantly  sunk  down  dead  beneath  him. 
Two  of  the  Whig  horsemen  who  were  the  foremost  in  the  pur- 
suit hastened  up  with  the  purpose  of  killing  him,  for  hitherto 
there  had  been  no  quarter  given.  Morton,  on  the  other  hand, 
rushed  forward  to  save  his  life,  if  possible,  in  order  at  once  to 
indulge  his  natural  generosity,  and  to  requite  the  obligation 
which  Lord  Evandale  had  conferred  on  him  that  morning,  and 
under  which  circumstances  had  made  him  wince  so  acutely. 
Just  as  he  had  assisted  Evandale,  who  was  much  wounded,  to 
extricate  himself  from  his  dying  horse  and  to  gain  his  feet, 
the  two  horsemen  came  up,  and  one  of  them,  exclaiming, 
"  Have  at  the  red-coated  tyrant ! "  made  a  blow  at  the  young 
nobleman,  which  Morton  parried  with  difficulty,  exclaiming  to 
the  rider,  who  was  no  other  than  Burley  himself,  *'  Give 
quarter  to  this  gentleman,  for  my  sake — for  the  sake,"  he 
added,  observing  that  Burley  did  not  immediately  recognize 
him,  ''  of  Henry  Morton,  who  so  lately  sheltered  you." 

"Henry  Morton  \"  replied  Burley,  wiping  his  bloody  brow 
with  his  bloodier  hand  ;  "  did  I  not  say  that  the  son  of  Silas 
Morton  would  come  forth  out  of  the  land  of  bondage,  nor  be 
long  an  indweller  in  the  tents  of  Ham  ?  Thou  art  a  brand 
snatched  out  of  the  burning.  But  for  this  booted  apostle  of 
Prelacy,  he  shall  die  the  death  !  We  must  smite  them  hip  and 
thigh,  even  from  the  rising  to  the  going  down  of  the  sun.  It 
is  our  commission  to  slay  them  like  Amalek,  and  utterly  de- 
stroy all  they  have,  and  spare  neither  man  nor  woman,  infant 
nor  suckling ;  therefore  hinder  me  not,"  he  continued,  en- 
deavoring again  to  cut  down  Lord  Evandale,  '*  for  this  work 
must  not  be  wrought  negligently." 

'*  You  must  not,  and  you  shall  not,  slay  him,  more  es- 
pecially while  incapable  of  defence,"  said  Morton,  planting 
himself  before  Lord  Evandale  so  as  to  intercept  any  blow  that 
should  be  aimed  at  him.  "  I  owed  my  life  to  him  this  morn- 
ing— my  life,  which  was  endangered  solely  by  my  having 
sheltered  you  ;  and  to  shed  his  blood  when  he  can  offer  no 
effectual  resistance  were  not  only  a  cruelty  abhorrent  to  God 
and  man,  but  detestable  ingratitude  both  to  him  and  to  me." 

Burley  paused.  "Thou  art  yet,"  he  said,  "in  the  court 
of  the  Gentiles,  and  I  compassionate  thy  human  blindness 
and  frailty.  Strong  meat  is  not  fit  for  babes,  nor  the  mighty 
and  grinding  dispensation  under  which  I  draw  my  sword  for 


166  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

those  whose  hearts  are  yet  dwe^^ing  in  huts  of  clay,  wnose 
footsteps  are  tangled  in  the  mesh  of  mortal  sympathies,  and 
who  clothe  themselves  in  the  righteousness  that  is  as  filthy 
rags.  But  to  gain  a  soul  to  the  truth  is  better  than  to  send 
one  to  Tophet ;  therefore  I  give  quarter  to  this  youth,  pro- 
viding the  grant  is  confirmed  by  the  general  council  of  God's 
army,  whom  He  hath  this  day  blessed  with  so  signal  a  deliv- 
erance. Thou  art  unarmed.  Abide  my  return  here.  I  must 
yet  pursue  these  sinners,  the  Amalekites,  and  destroy  them 
till  they  be  utterly  consumed  from  the  face  of  the  land,  even 
from  Havilah  unto  Shur.'' 

So  saying,  he  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  continued  to  pur- 
sue the  chase. 

'^Ouddie,''  said  Morton,  "for  God's  sake  catch  a  horse  as 
quickly  as  you  can.  I  will  not  trust  Lord  Evandale's  life  with 
these  obdurate  men.  You  are  wounded,  my  lord.  Are  you 
able  to  continue  your  retreat  ? ''  he  continued,  addressing  him- 
self to  his  prisoner,  who,  half  stunned  by  the  fall,  was  but 
beginning  to  recover  himself. 

"  I  think  so,"  replied  Lord  Evandale.  '^  But  is  it  possi- 
ble ?     Do  I  owe  my  life  to  Mr.  Morton  ?'* 

"  My  interference  would  have  been  the  same  from  com- 
mon humanity,"  replied  Morton  ;  '^  to  your  lordship  it  was  a 
sacred  debt  of  gratitude." 

Ouddie  at  this  instant  returned  with  a  horse. 

"  God-sake,  munt — munt  and  ride  like  a  fleeing  hawk,  my 
lord,"  said  the  good-natured  f ellow,  "  for  ne'er  be  in  me  if 
they  arena  killing  every  ane  o'  the  wounded  and  prisoners  ! " 

Lord  Evandale  mounted  the  horse,  while  Ouddie  officiously 
held  the  stirrup. 

"  Stand  off,  good  fellow,  thy  courtesy  may  cost  thy  life. 
Mr.  Morton,"  he  continued,  addressing  Henry,  "  this  makes 
us  more  than  even  ;  rely  on  it,  I  will  never  forget  your  gener- 
osity.    Farewell." 

He  turned  his  horse,  and  rode  swiftly  away  in  the  direc- 
tion which  seemed  least  exposed  to  pursuit. 

Lord  Evandale  had  just  rode  off,  when  several  of  the  in- 
surgents, who  were  in  the  front  of  the  pursuit,  came  up  de- 
nouncing vengeance  on  Henry  Morton  and  Ouddie  for  having 
aided  the  escape  of  a  Philistine,  as  they  called  the  young 
nobleman. 

''  What  wad  ye  hae  had  us  to  do  I"  cried  Ouddie.  "  Had 
we  aught  to  stop  a  man  wi'  that  had  twa  pistols  and  a  sword  ? 
Sudna  ye  hae  come  faster  up  yoursells,  instead  of  flyting  at 
huz  ?" 


Rout  and  slaughter  of  the   Puritans  after  the  battle  or  Bocnwell   Bridge. 


OLD  MORTALITY  167 

This  excuse  wonld  hardly  have  passed  current ;  but  Ket- 
tledrummle,  who  now  awoke  from  his  trance  of  terror,  and 
was  known  to,  and  reverenced  by,  most  of  the  Wanderers,  to- 
gether with  Mause,  who  possessed  their  appropriate  language 
as  well  as  the  preacher  himself,  proved  active  and  effectual 
intercessors. 

**  Touch  them  not,  harm  them  not,"  exclaimed  Kettle- 
drummle,  in  his  very  best  double-bass  tones;  ''this  is  the 
son  of  the  famous  Silas  Morton,  by  whom  the  Lord  wrought 
great  things  in  this  land  at  the  breaking  forth  of  the  reforma- 
tion from  Prelacy,  when  there  was  a  plentiful  pouring  forth 
of  the  Word  and  a  renewing  of  the  Covenant ;  a  hero  and 
champion  of  those  blessed  days  when  there  was  power  and 
efficacy,  and  convincing  and  converting  of  sinners,  and  heart- 
exercises,  and  fellowships  of  saints,  and  a  plentiful  flowing 
forth  of  the  spices  of  the  garden  of  Eden." 

*'  And  this  is  my  son  Cuddie,"  exclaimed  Mause,  in  her 
turn,  "the  son  of  his  father,  Judden  Headrigg,  whawasa  douce 
honest  inan,  and  of  me,  Mause  Middlemas,  an  unworthy  pro- 
fessor and  follower  of  the  pure  gospel,  and  ane  o'  your  ain  folk. 
Is  it  not  written,  '  Cut  ye  not  off  the  tribe  of  the  families  of 
the  Kohathites  from  among  the  Levites  ? '  Numbers  fourth 
and  aughteenth.  0,  sirs !  dinna  be  standing  here  prattling 
wi'  honest  folk  when  ye  suld  be  following  forth  your  victory 
with  which  Providence  has  blessed  ye.'' 

This  party  having  passed  on,  they  were  immediately  beset 
by  another,  to  whom  it  was  necessary  to  give  the  same  ex- 
planation. Kettledi-ummle,  whose  fear  was  much  dissipated 
since  the  firing  had  ceased,  again  took  upon  him  to  be  inter- 
cessor, and  grown  bold,  as  he  felt  his  good  word  necessary  for 
the  protection  of  his  late  fellow-captives,  he  laid  claim  to  no 
small  share  of  the  merit  of  the  victory,  appealing  to  Mor- 
ton and  Cuddie  whether  the  tide  of  battle  had  not  turned 
while  he  prayed  on  the  Mount  of  Jehovah-Nissi,  like  Moses, 
that  Israel  might  prevail  over  Amalek  ;  but  granting  them, 
at  the  same  time,  the  credit  of  holding  up  his  hands  when  they 
waxed  heavy,  as  those  of  the  prophet  were  supported  by  Aaron 
and  Hur.  It  seems  probable  that  Kettledrummle  allotted  this 
part  in  the  success  to  his  companions  in  adversity  lest  they 
should  be  tempted  to  disclose  his  carnal  self-seeking  and  fall- 
ing away,  in  regarding  too  closely  his  own  personal  safety. 

These  strong  testimonies  in  favor  of  the  liberated  captives 
quickly  flew  abroad,  with  many  exaggerations,  among  the 
victorious  army.  The  reports  on  the  subject  were  various  ; 
but  it  was  universally  agreed  that  young  Morton  of  Milnwood, 


168  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  son  of  the  stout  soldier  of  the  Covenant,  Silas  Morton, 
together  with  the  precious  Gabriel  Kettledrummle,  and  a  sin- 
gular devout  Christian  woman,  whom  many  thought  as  good 
as  himself  at  extracting  a  doctrine  or  a  use,  whether  of  ter- 
ror or  consolation,  had  arrived  to  support  the  good  old  cause, 
with  a  reinforcement  of  a  hundred  well-armed  men  from  the 
Middle  Ward.* 

♦  See  Skirmish  at  Drumclcf'.    Note  34. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


When  pulpit,  drum  ecclesiastic, 
Was  beat  with  fists  instead  of  a  stick. 

Hudibras, 


In  the  meantime,  the  insurgent  cavalry  returned  from  the 
pursuit.  Jaded  and  worn  out  with  their  unwonted  efforts,  and 
the  infantry  assembled  on  the  ground  which  they  had  won, 
fatigued  with  toil  and  hunger.  Their  success,  however,  was  a 
cordial  to  every  bosom,  and  seemed  even  to  serve  in  the  stead 
of  food  and  refreshment.  It  was,  indeed,  much  more  Irilliant 
than  they  durst  have  ventured  to  anticipate  ;  for,  with  no 
great  loss  on  their  part,  they  had  totally  routed  a  regiment  of 
picked  men,  commanded  by  the  first  officer  in  Scotland,  and 
one  whose  very  name  had  long  been  a  terror  to  them.  Their 
success  seemed  even  to  have  upon  their  spirits  the  effect  of  a 
sudden  and  violent  surprise,  so  much  had  their  taking  up 
arms  been  a  measure  of  desperation  rather  than  of  hope. 
Their  meeting  was  also  casual,  and  they  had  hastily  arranged 
themselves  under  such  commanders  as  were  remarkable  for 
zeal  and  courage,  without  much  respect  to  any  other  qualities. 
It  followed  from  this  state  of  disorganization  that  the  whole 
army  appeared  at  once  to  resolve  itself  into  a  general  commit- 
tee for  considering  what  steps  were  to  be  taken  in  consequence 
of  their  success,  and  no  opinion  could  be  started  so  wild  that 
it  had  not  some  favorers  and  advocates.  Some  proposed  they 
should  march  to  Glasgow,  some  to  Hamilton,  some  to  Edin- 
burgh, some  to  London.  Some  were  for  sending  a  deputa- 
tion of  their  number  to  London  to  convert  Charles  11.  to  a 
sense  of  the  error  of  his  ways  ;  and  others,  less  charitable, 
proposed  either  to  call  a  new  successor  to  the  crown,  or  to  de- 
clare Scotland  a  free  republic.  A  free  parliament  of  the  nation, 
and  a  free  assembly  of  the  Kirk,  were  the  objects  of  the  more 
sensible  and  moderate  of  the  party.  In  the  meanwhile,  a 
clamor  arose  among  the  soldiers  for  bread  and  other  neces- 
saries ;  and  while  all  complained  of  hardship  and  hunger, 
none  took  the  necessary  measures  to  procure  supplies.  In 
short,  the  camp  of  the  Covenanters,  even  in  the  very  moment 


169 


170  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  success,  seemed  about  to  dissolve  like  a  rope  of  sand,  from 
want  of  the  original  principles  of  combination  and  union. 

Burley,  who  had  now  returned  from  the  pursuit,  found 
his  followers  in  this  distracted  state.  With  the  ready  talent 
of  one  accustomed  to  encounter  exigencies,  he  proposed  that 
one  hundred  of  the  freshest  men  should  be  drawn  out  for 
duty  ;  that  a  small  number  of  those  who  had  hitherto  acted 
as  leaders  should  constitute  a  committee  of  direction  until  offi- 
cers should  be  regularly  cKosen  ;  and  that,  to  crown  the  victory, 
Gabriel  Kettledrummle  should  be  called  upon  to  improve  the 
providential  success  which  they  had  obtained  by  a  word  in 
season  addressed  to  the  army.  He  reckoned  very  much,  and 
not  without  reason,  on  this  last  expedient  as  a  means  of  en- 
gaging the  attention  of  the  bulk  of  the  insurgents,  while  he 
himself  and  two  or  three  of  their  leaders  held  a  private  coun- 
cil of  war,  undisturbed  by  the  discordant  opinions  or  senseless 
clamor  of  the  general  body. 

Kettledrummle  more  than  answered  the  expectations  of 
Burley.  Two  mortal  hours  did  he  preach  at  a  breathing ;  and 
certainly  no  lungs  or  doctrine  excepting  his  own  could  have 
kept  up,  for  so  long  a  time,  the  attention  of  men  in  such 
precarious  circumstances.  But  he  possessed  in  perfection  a 
sort  of  rude  and  familiar  eloquence  peculiar  to  the  preachers 
of  that  period,  which,  though  it  would  have  been  fastidiously 
rejected  by  an  audience  which  possessed  any  portion  of  taste, 
was  a  cake  of  the  right  leaven  for  the  palates  of  those  whom 
he  now  addressed.  His  text  was  from  the  forty-ninth  chap- 
ter of  Isaiah,  "  Even  the  captives  of  the  mighty  shall  betaken 
away,  and  the  prey  of  the  terrible  shall  be  delivered :  for  I 
will  contend  with  him  that  contendeth  with  thee,  and  I  will 
save  thy  children.  And  I  will  feed  them  that  oppress  thee 
with  their  own  flesh ;  and  they  shall  be  drunken  with  their 
own  blood,  as  with  sweet  wine  :  and  all  flesh  shall  know  that 
I  the  Lord  am  thy  Saviour  and  thy  Redeemer,  the  Mighty 
One  of  Jacob." 

The  discourse  which  he  pronounced  upon  this  subject  was 
divided  into  fifteen  heads,  each  of  which  was  garnished  with 
seven  uses  of  application,  two  of  consolation,  two  of  terror, 
two  declaring  the  causes  of  backsliding  and  of  wrath,  and 
one  announcing  the  promised  and  expected  deliverance.  The 
first  part  of  his  text  he  applied  to  his  own  deliverance  and 
that  of  his  companions ;  and  took  occasion  to  speak  a  few 
words  in  praise  of  young  Milnwood,  of  whom,  as  of  a  champion 
of  the  Covenant,  he  augured  great  tilings.  The  second  part 
he  applied  to  the  punishments  which  were  about  to  fall  upon 


OLD  MORTALITY  171 

the  persecuting  government.  At  times  he  was  familiar  and 
colloquial ;  now  he  was  loud,  energetic,  and  boisterous  ;  some 
parts  of  his  discourse  might  be  called  sublime,  and  others 
sunk  below  burlesque.  Occasionally  he  vindicated  with  gresit 
animation  the  right  of  every  freeman  to  worship  God  accord- 
ing to  his  own  conscience  ;  and  presently  he  charged  the  guilt 
and  misery  of  the  people  on  the  awful  negligence  of  their 
rulers,  who  had  not  only  failed  to  establish  Presbytery  as  the 
national  religion,  but. had  tolerated  sectaries  of  various  de- 
scriptions. Papists,  Prelatists,  Erastians  assuming  the  name 
of  Presbyterians,  Independents,  Socinians,  and  Quakers  ;  all 
of  whom  Kettledrummle  proposed,  by  one  sweeping  act,  to 
expel  from  the  land,  and  thus  re-edify  in  its  integrity  the 
beauty  of  the  sanctuary.  He  next  handled  very  pithily  the 
doctrine  of  defensive  arms  and  of  resistance  to  Charles  II., 
observing  that,  instead  of  a  nursing  father  to  the  Kirk,  that 
monarch  had  been  a  nursing  father  to  none  but  his  own  bas- 
tards. He  went  at  some  length  through  the  life  and  conver- 
sation of  that  joyous  prince,  few  parts  of  which,  it  must  be 
owned,  were  qualified  to  stand  the  rough  handling  of  so  un- 
courtly  an  orator,  who  conferred  on  him  the  hard  names  of 
Jeroboam,  Omri,  Ahab,  Shallum,  Pekah,  and  every  other 
evil  monarch  recorded  in  the  Chronicles,  and  concluded  with 
a  round  application  of  the  Scripture,  '^  Tophet  is  ordained  of 
old  ;  yea,  for  the  Kikg  it  is  provided  :  he  hath  made  it  deep 
and  large  ;  the  pile  thereof  is  fire  and  much  wood  :  the 
breath  of  the  Lord,  like  a  stream  of  brimstone,  doth  kindle  it.'' 
Kettledrummle  had  no  sooner  ended  his  sermon  and  de- 
scended from  the  huge  rock  which  had  served  him  for  a  pul- 
pit than  his  post  was  occupied  by  a  pastor  of  a  very  different 
description.  The  Reverend  Gabriel  was  advanced  in  years, 
somewhat  corpulent,  with  a  loud  voice,  a  square  face,  and  a 
set  of  stupid  and  unanimated  features,  in  which  the  body 
seemed  more  to  predominate  over  the  spirit  than  was  seemly  in 
a  sound  divine.  The  youth  who  succeeded  him  in  exhorting 
this  extraordinary  convocation,  Ephraim  Macbriar  by  name, 
was  hardly  twenty  years  old  ;  yet  his  thin  features  already  in- 
dicated that  a  constitution,  naturally  hectic,  was  worn  out  by 
vigils,  by  fasts,  by  the  rigor  of  imprisonment,  and  the  fa- 
tigues incident  to  a  fugitive  life.  Young  as  he  was  he  had  been 
twice  imprisoned  for  several  months,  and  suffered  many  se- 
verities, which  gave  him  great  influence  with  those  of  his  own 
sect.  H©  threw  his  faded  eyes  over  the  multitude  and  over 
the  scene  of  battle  ;  and  a  light  of  triumph  arose  in  his  glance, 
his  pale  yet  striking  features  were  colored  with  a  transient  and 


173  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hectic  blush  of  joy.  He  folded  his  hands,  raised  his  face 
to  heaven,  and  seemed  lost  in  mental  prayer  and  thanksgiving 
ere  he  addressed  the  people.  When  he  spoke,  his  faint  and 
broken  voice  seemed  at  first  inadequate  to  express  his  concep- 
tions. But  the  deep  silence  of  the  assembly,  the  eagerness 
with  which  the  ear  gathered  every  word,  as  the  famished  Is- 
raelites collected  the  heavenly  manna,  had  a  corresponding 
effect  upon  the  preacher  himself.  His  words  became  more 
distinct,  his  manner  more  earnest  and  energetic  ;  it  seemed  as 
i'f  religious  zeal  was  triumphing  over  bodily  weakness  and  in- 
firmity. His  natural  eloquence  was  not  altogether  untainted 
with  the  coarseness  of  his  sect ;  and  yet,  by  the  influence  of 
a  good  natural  taste,  it  was  freed  from  the  grosser  and  more 
ludicrous  errors  of  his  contemporaries  ;  and  the  language  of 
Scripture,  which  in  their  mouths  was  sometimes  degraded 
by  misapplication,  gave,  in  Macbriar^s  exhortation,  a  ricli  and 
solemn  effect,  like  that  which  is  produced  by  the  beams  of  the 
sun  streaming  through  the  storied  representation  of  saints 
and  martyrs  on  the  Gothic  window  of  some  ancient  cathe- 
dral. 

He  painted  the  desolation  of  the  church,  during  the  late 
period  of  her  distresses,  in  the  most  affecting  colors.  He  de- 
scribed her,  like  Hagar  watching  the  waning  life  of  lier  infant 
amid  the  fountainless  desert ;  like  Judah,  under  her  palm- 
tree,  mourning  for  the  devastation  of  her  temple  ;  like  Rachel, 
weeping  for  her  children  and  refusing  comfort.  But  he 
chiefly  rose  into  rough  sublimity  when  addressing  the  men  yet 
reeking  from  battle.  He  called  on  them  to  remember  the 
great  things  which  God  had  done  for  them,  and  to  persevere 
in  the  career  which  their  victory  had  opened. 

''Your  garments  are  dyed,  but  not  with  the  juice  of  the 
wine-press  ;  your  swords  are  filled  with  blood,''  he  exclaimed, 
'*  but  not  with  the  blood  of  goats  or  lambs  ;  the  dust  of  the 
desert  on  which  ye  stand  is  made  fat  with  gore,  but  not  with 
the  blood  of  bullocks,  for  the  Lord  hath  a  sacrifice  in  Bozrah, 
and  a  great  slaughter  in  the  land  of  Idumea.  These  were  not 
the  firstlings  of  the  flock,  the  small  cattle  of  burnt-offerings, 
whose  bodies  lie  like  dung  on  the  ploughed  field  of  the  husband- 
man ;  this  is  not  the  savor  of  myrrh,  of  frankincense,  or  of 
sweet  herbs  that  is  steaming  in  your  nostrils ;  but  these 
bloody  trunks  are  the  carcasses  of  those  who  held  the  bow  and 
the  lance,  who  were  cruel  and  would  show  no  mercy,  whose 
voice  roared  like  the  sea,  who  rode  upon  horses,  every  man  in 
*rray  as  if  to  battle  ;  they  are  the  carcasses  even  of  the  mighty 
men  of  war  that  came  against  Jacob  in  the  day  of  his  deliver- 


OLD  MORTALITY  178 

ance,  and  the  smoke  is  that  of  the  devouring  fires  that  have 
consumed  them.  And  those  wild  hills  that  surround  you  are 
not  a  sanctuary  planked  with  cedar  and  plated  with  silver  ; 
nor  are  ye  ministering  priests  at  the  altar  with  censers  and 
with  torches ;  but  ye  hold  in  your  hands  the  sword  and  the 
bow  and  the  weapons  of  death.  And  yet  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  that  not  when  the  ancient  temple  was  in  its  first  glory 
was  there  offered  sacrifice  more  acceptable  than  that  which 
you  have  this  day  presented,  giving  to  the  slaughter  the 
tyrant  and  the  oppressor,  with  the  rocks  for  your  altars,  and 
the  sky  for  your  vaulted  sanctuary,  and  your  own  good  swords 
for  the  instruments  of  sacrifice.  Leave  not,  therefore,  the 
plough  in  the  furrow ;  turn  not  back  from  the  path  in  wliicli 
you  have  entered  like  the  famous  worthies  of  old,  whom  God 
raised  up  for  the  glorifying  of  His  name  and  the  deliverance 
of  His  afflicted  people  ;  halt  not  in  the  race  you  are  running, 
lest  the  latter  end  should  be  worse  than  the  beginning.  Where- 
fore, set  up  a  standard  in  the  land  ;  blow  a  trumpet  upon  the 
mountains  ;  let  not  the  shepherd  tarry  by  his  sheepfold,  or 
the  seedsman  continue  in  the  ploughed  field  ;  but  make  the 
watch  strong,  sharpen  the  arrows,  burnish  the  shields,  name 
ye  the  captains  of  thousands,  and  captains  of  hundreds,  of 
fifties,  and  of  tens ;  call  the  footmen  like  the  rushing  of  winds, 
and  cause  the  horsemen  to  come  up  like  the  sound  of  many 
waters ;  for  the  passages  of  the  destroyers  are  stopped,  their 
rods  are  burned,  and  the  face  of  their  men  of  battle  hath  been 
turned  to  flight.  Heaven  has  been  with  you  and  has  broken 
the  bow  of  the  mighty  ;  then  let  every  man's  heart  be  as  the 
heart  of  the  valiant  Maccabeus,  every  man's  hand  as  the  hand 
of  the  mighty  Samson,  every  man's  sword  as  that  of  Gideon, 
which  turned  not  back  from  the  slaughter  ;  for  the  banner  of 
reformation  is  spread  abroad  on  the  mountains  in  its  first  love- 
liness, and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it. 

''  Well  is  he  this  day  that  shall  barter  his  house  for  a 
helmet,  and  sell  his  garment  for  a  sword,  and  cast  in  his  lot 
with  the  children  of  the  Covenant,  even  to  the  fulfilling  of 
the  promise  ;  and  woe,  woe  unto  him  who,  for  carnal  ends 
and  self-seeking,  shall  withhold  himself  from  the  great  w^ork, 
for  the  curse  shall  abide  with  him,  even  the  bitter  curse  of 
Meroz,  because  he  came  not  to  the  help  of  the  Lord  against 
the  mighty.  Up,  then,  and  be  doing  ;  the  blood  of  martyrs, 
reeking  upon  scaffolds,  is  crying  for  vengeance  ;  the  bones 
of  saints,  which  lie  whitening  in  the  highways,  are  pleading 
for  retribution  ;  the  groans  of  innocent  captives,  from  desolate 
isles  of  the  sea,  and  from  the  dungeons  of  the  tyrants'  high 


m  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

places,  cry  for  deliverance  ;  the  prayers  of  persecuted  Chris- 
tians, sheltering  themselves  in  dens  and  deserts  from  the 
sword  of  their  persecutors,  famished  with  hunger,  starving 
with  cold,  lacking  fire,  food,  shelter,  and  clothing,  because 
they  serve  God  rather  than  man — all  are  with  you,  pleading, 
watching,  knocking,  storming  the  gates  of  heaven  in  your 
behal+f.  Heaven  itself  shall  fight  for  you,  as  the  stars  in 
their  courses  fought  against  Sisera.  Then  whoso  will  deserve 
immortal  fame  in  this  world,  and  eternal  happiness  in  that 
which  is  to  come,  let  them  enter  into  God^s  service,  and  take 
arles  at  the  hand  of  His  servant — a  blessing,  namely,  upon 
him  and  his  household,  and  his  children,  to  the  ninth  gener- 
ation, even  the  blessing  of  the  promise,  forever  and  ever  1 
Amen/' 

The  eloquence  of  the  preacher  was  rewarded  by  the  deep 
hum  o-  stern  approbation  which  resounded  through  the  armed 
assemblage  at  the  conclusion  of  an  exhortation  so  well  suited 
to  that  which  they  had  done,  and  that  which  remained  for 
them  to  do.  The  wounded  forgot  their  pain,  the  faint  and 
hungry  their  fatigues  and  privations,  as  they  listened  to  doc- 
trines which  elevated  them  alike  above  the  wants  and  calami- 
ties of  the  world,  and  identified  their  cause  with  that  of  the 
Deity.  Many  crowded  around  the  preacher  as  he  descended 
from  the  eminence  on  which  he  stood,  and,  clasping  him 
with  hands  on  which  the  gore  was  not  yet  hardened,  pledged 
their  sacred  vow  that  they  would  play  the  part  of  Heaven's 
true  soldiers.  Exhausted  by  his  own  enthusiasm,  and  by  the 
animated  fervor  which  he  had  exerted  in  his  discourse,  the 
preacher  could  only  reply  in  broken  accents,  '^  God  bless  you, 
my  brethren — it  is  His  cause.  Stand  strongly  up  and  play 
the  men ;  the  worst  that  can  befall  us  is  but  a  brief  and 
bloody  passage  to  heaven.'* 

Balfour  and  the  other  leaders  had  not  lost  the  time  which 
was  employed  in  these  spiritual  exercises.  Watch-fires  were 
lighted,  sentinels  were  posted,  and  arrangements  were  made 
to  refresh  the  army  with  such  provisions  as  had  been  hastily 
collected  from  the  nearest  farm-houses  and  villages.  The 
present  necessity  thus  provided  for,  they  turned  their  thoughts 
to  the  future.  They  had  despatched  parties  to  spread  the 
news  of  their  victory,  and  to  obtain,  either  by  force  or  favor, 
supplies  of  what  they  stood  most  in  need  of.  In  this  they 
had  succeeded  beyond  their  hopes,  having  at  one  village  seized 
a  small  magazine  of  provisions,  forage,  and  ammunition 
which  had  been  provided  for  the  royal  forces.  This  success 
not  only  gave  them  relief  at  the  time,  but  such  hopes  for  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  175 

future,  that,  whereas  formerly  some  of  their  number  had 
begun  to  slacken  in  their  zeal,  they  now  unanimously  resolved 
to  abide  together  in  arms,  and  commit  themselves  and  their 
cause  to  the  event  of  war. 

And  whatever  niay  be  thought  of  the  extravagance  or 
narrow-minded  bigotry  of  many  of  their  tenets,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  deny  the  praise  of  devoted  courage  to  a  few  hundred 
peasants,  who,  without  leaders,  without  money,  without  mag- 
azines, without  any  fixed  plan  of  action,  and  almost  without 
arms,  borne  out  only  by  their  innate  zeal  and  a  detestation  of 
the  oppression  of  their  rulers,  ventured  to  declare  open  war 
against  an  established  government,  supported  by  a  regular 
army  and  the  whole  force  of  three  kingdoms. 


CHAPTER  XIX    ""^ 

Why,  then,  say  an  old  man  can  do  somewhat. 

ficwn/ IF.,  Part  IL 

"We  must  now  return  to  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem,  which  the 
march  of  the  Life  Guards  on  the  morning  of  this  eventful  day 
had  left  to  silence  and  anxiety.  The  assurances  of  Lord  Evan- 
dale  had  not  succeeded  in  quelling  the  apprehensions  of  Edith. 
She  knew  him  generous,  and  faithful  to  his  word  ;  but  it 
seemed  too  plain  that  he  suspected  the  object  of  her  interces- 
sion to  be  a  successful  rival ;  and  was  it  not  expecting  from 
him  an  effort  above  human  nature  to  suppose  that  he  was  to 
watch  over  Morton^s  safety,  and  rescue  him  from  all  the  dan- 
gers to  which  his  state  of  imprisonment,  and  the  suspicions 
which  he  had  incurred,  must  repeatedly  expose  him  ?  She 
therefore  resigned  herself  to  the  most  heartrending  appre- 
hensions, without  admitting,  and  indeed  almost  without  lis- 
tening to,  the  multifarious  grounds  of  consolation  which  Jenny 
Dennison  brought  forward,  one  after  another,  like  a  skilful 
general  who  charges  with  the  several  divisions  of  his  troops  in 
regular  succession. 

First,  Jenny  was  morally  positive  that  young  Milnwood 
would  come  to  no  harm  ;  then,  if  he  did,  there  was  consolation 
in  the  reflection  that  Lord  Evandale  was  the  better  and  more 
appropriate  match  of  the  two  ;  then,  there  was  every  chance 
of  a  battle  in  which  the  said  Lord  Evandale  might  be  killed, 
and  there  wad  be  nae  mair  fash  about  that  job  ;  then,  if  the 
Whigs  gat  the  better,  Milnwood  and  Cuddie  might  come  to 
the  Castle,  and  carry  off  the  beloved  of  their  hearts  by  the 
strong  hand.  "For  I  forgot  to  tell  ye,  madam,''  continued 
the  damsel,  putting  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  '*  that  puir 
Cuddie's  in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines  as  weel  as  young  Miln- 
wood, and  he  was  brought  here  a  prisoner  this  morning,  and 
I  was  fain  to  speak  Tam  Halliday  fair,  and  fleech  him,  to  let 
me  near  the  puir  creature  ;  but  Cuddie  wasna  sae  thankfu'  as 
he  needed  till  hae  been  neither,"  she  added,  and  at  the  same 
time  changed  her  tone,  and  briskly  withdrew  the  handker- 
chief from  her  face  ;  **so  I  will  ne'er  waste  my  een  wi'  greet- 

170 


OLD  MORTALITY  177 

ing  about  the  matter.  There  wad  be  aye  enow  o'  young  men 
left,  if  they  were  to  hang  the  tae  half  o'  them." 

The  other  inhabitants  of  the  Castle  were  also  in  a  state 
of  dissatisfaction  and  anxiety.  Lady  Margaret  thought  that 
Colonel  Grahame,  in  commanding  an  execution  at  the  door  of 
her  house,  and  refusing  to  grant  a  reprieve  at  her  request,  had 
fallen  short  of  the  deference  due  to  her  rank,  and  had  even 
encroached  on  her  seigniorial  rights. 

"  The  Colonel,"  she  said,  *'  ought  to  have  remembered, 
brother,  that  the  barony  of  Tillietudlem  has  the  baronial 
privilege  of  pit  and  gallows  ;  and  therefore,  if  the  lad  was  to 
be  executed  on  my  estate — which  I  consider  as  an  unhandsome 
thing,  seeing  it  is  in  the  possession  of  females,  to  whom  such 
tragedies  cannot  be  acceptable — he  ought,  at  common  law,  to 
have  been  delivered  up  to  my  bailie,  and  justified  at  his 
sight." 

"  Martial  law,  sister,"  answered  Major  Bellenden,  "super- 
sedes every  other.  But  I  must  own  I  think  Colonel  Grahame 
rather  deficient  in  attention  to  you  ;  and  I  am  not  over  and 
above  pre-eminently  flattered  by  his  granting  to  young  Evan- 
dale — I  suppose  because  he  is  a  lord,  and  has  interest  with 
the  privy  council — a  request  which  he  refused  to  so  old  a  ser- 
vant of  the  king  as  I  am.  But  so  long  as  the  poor  young 
fellow's  life  is  saved,  I  can  comfort  myself  with  the  fag-end 
of  a  ditty  as  old  as  myself."  And  therewithal  he  hummed  a 
stanza : 

**  And  what  though  winter  will  pinch  severe 

Through  locks  of  gray  and  a  cloak  that's  old  ? 
Yet  keep  up  thy  heart,  bold  cavalier, 
For  a  cup  of  sack  shall  fence  the  cold. 

I  must  be  your  guest  here  to-day,  sister.  I  wish  to  hear  the 
issue  of  this  gathering  on  Loudon  Hill,  though  I  cannot  con- 
ceive their  standing  a  body  of  horse  appointed  like  our  guests 
this  morning.  Woe's  me,  the  time  has  been  that  I  would 
have  liked  ill  to  have  sat  in  biggit  wa's  waiting  for  the  news 
of  a  skirmish  to  be  fought  within  ten  miles  of  me  !  But,  as 
the  old  song  goes, 

"  For  time  will  rust  the  brightest  blade, 

And  years  will  break  the  strongest  bow  ; 
Was  ever  wight  so  starkly  made, 
But  time  and  years  would  overthrow  ?  " 

"  We  are  well  pleased  you  will  stay,  brother,"  said  Lady 
Margaret ;  '^  I  will  take  mv  old  privilege  to  look  after  my 


out  again. 
<< 


178  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

household,  whom  this  collation  has  thrown  into  some  disorder, 

although  it  is  uncivil  to  leave  you  alone." 

"  0,  I  hate  ceremony  as  I  hate  a  stumbling  horse,"  replied 
the  Major.  **  Besides,  your  person  would  be  with  me,  and 
your  mind  with  the  cold  meat  and  reversionary  pasties.  Where 
is  Edith  ?  " 

^*  Gone  to  her  room  a  little  evil-disposed,  I  am  informed, 
and  laid  down  in  her  bed  for  a  gliif,"  said  her  grandmother  ; 
^^as  soon  as  she  wakes,  she  shall  take  some  drops." 

*'  Pooh  !  pooh  !  she's  only  sick  of  the  soldiers,"  answered 
Major  Bellenden.  ''  She's  not  accustomed  to  see  one  acquaint- 
ance led  out  to  be  shot,  and  another  marching  oif  to  actual 
service,  with  some  chance  of  not  finding  his  way  back  again. 
She  would  soon  be  used  to  it,  if  the  Civil  War  were  to  break 

"God  forbid,  brother  ! "  said  Lady  Margaret. 

"  Ay,  Heaven  forbid,  as  you  say  ;  and,  in  the  meantime, 
ril  take  a  hit  at  trick  track  with  Harrison." 

"^  He  has  ridden  out,  sir,"  said  Gudyill,  "  to  try  if  he  can 
hear  any  tidings  of  the  battle." 

"  D — n  the  battle,"  said  the  Major  ;  '^  it  puts  this  family 
as  much  out  of  order  as  if  there  had  never  been  such  a  thing 
in  the  country  before  ;  and  yet  there  was  such  a  place  as  Kil- 
syth, John." 

"  Ay,  and  as  Tippermuir,  your  honor,"  replied  Gudyill, 
*'  where  I  was  his  honor  my  late  master's  rear- rank  man." 

"  And  Alford,  John,"  pursued  the  Major,  ^'  where  I  com- 
manded -the  horse  ;  and  Innerlochy,  where  I  was  the  Great 
Marquis's  aide-de-camp  ;  and  Auld  Earn,  and  Brig  o'  Dee." 

"  And  Philiphaugh,  your  honor,"  said  John. 

"  Umph  !"  replied  the  Major;  ^' the  less,  John,  we  say 
about  that  matter,  fclie  better." 

However,  being  once  fairly  embarked  on  the  subject  of 
Montrose's  campaigns,  the  Major  and  John  Gudyill  carried  on 
the  war  so  stoutly  as  for  a  considerable  time  to  keep  at  bay 
the  formidable  enemy  called  Time, with  whom  retired  veterans, 
\P  during  the  q^uiet  close  of  a  bustling  life,  usually  wage  an  un- 
ceasing hostility. 

It  has  been  frequently  remarked  that  the  tidings  of  im- 
portant events  fly  with  a  celerity  almost  beyond  the  power  of 
credibility,  and  that  reports',  correct  in  the  general  point, 
though  inaccurate  in  details,  precede  the  certain  intelligence, 
as  if  carried  by  the  birds  of  the  air.  Such  rumors  anticipate 
the  reality,  not  unlike  to  the  **  shadows  of  coming  events," 
-"irhich  occupy  the  imagination  of  the  Highland  seer.     Harri* 


OLD  MORTALITY  17d 

son,  in  his  ride,  encountered  some  snch  report  concerning  the 
event  of  the  battle,  and  turned  his  horse  back  to  Tillietudlem 
in  great  dismay.  He  made  it  his  first  business  to  seek  out 
the  Major,  and  interrupted  him  in  the  midst  of  a  prolix  ac- 
count of  the  siege  and  storm  of  Dundee  with  the  ejaculation, 
^'  Heaven  send.  Major,  that  we  do  not  see  a  siege  of  Tillietud- 
lem before  we  are  many  days  older  ! '' 

^'  How  is  that,  Harrison  ?  what  the  devil  do  you  mean  ?'* 
exclaimed  the  astonished  veteran. 

"  Troth,  sir,  there  is  strong  and  increasing  belief  that 
Claver^se  is  clean  broken,  some  say  killed  ;  that  the  soldiers 
are  all  dispersed  ;  and  that  the  rebels  are  hastening  this  way, 
threatening  death  and  devastation  to  aHhat  will  not  take  the 
Covenant." 

*'  I  will  never  believe  that,"  said  the  Major,  starting  on  his 
feet — ^'  I  will  never  believe  that  the  Life  Guards  would  re- 
treat before  rebels  ;  and  yet  why  need  I  say  that,"  he  contin- 
ued, checking  himself ,  ^'  when  I  have  seen  such  sights  myself  ? 
Send  out  Pike  and  one  or  two  of  the  servants  for  intelligence, 
and  let  all  the  men  in  the  Castle  and  in  the  village  that  can 
be  trusted  take  up  arms.  This  old  tower  may  hold  them  play 
a  bit  if  it  were  but  victualled  and  garrisoned,  and  it  com- 
mands the  pass  between  the  high  and  low  countries.  It^s 
lucky  I  chanced  to  be  here.  Go,  muster  men,  Harrison.  You, 
Gudyill,  look  what  provisions  you  have,  or  can  get  brought 
in,  and  be  ready,  if  the  news  be  confirmed,  to  knock  down  as 
many  bullocks  as  you  have  salt  for.  The  well  never  goes  dry. 
There  are  some  old-fashioned  guns  on  the  battlements  ;  if  we 
had  but  ammunition  we  should  do  well  enough." 

^*  The  soldiers  left  some  casks  of  ammunition  at  the  Grange 
this  morning,  to  bide  their  return,"  said  Harrison. 

*'  Hasten,  then,"  said  the  Major,  ^'and  bring  it  into  the 
Castle,  with  every  pike,  sword,  pistol,  or  gun  that  is  within  our 
reach  ;  don^t  leave  so  much  as  a  bodkin.  Lucky  that  I  was 
here  !     I  will  speak  to  my  sister  instantly." 

Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  was  astounded  at  intelligence  so 
unexpected  and  so  alarming.  It  had  seemed  to  her  that  the 
imposing  force  which  had  that  morning  left  her  walls  was  suf- 
ficient to  have  routed  all  the  disaffected  in  Scotland,  if  col- 
lected in  a  body  ;  and  now  her  first  reflection  was  upon  the 
inadequacy  of  their  own  means  of  resistance  to  an  army  strong 
enough  to  have  defeated  Claverhouse  and  such  select  troops. 
*^  Woe^s  me  !  woe^s  me  !"  said  she  ;  '^  what  will  all  that  we 
can  do  avail  us,  brother  ?    What  will  resistance  do  but  bring 


180  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sure  destruction  on  the  house  and  on  the  bairn  Edith !  for, 
God  knows,  I  thinkna  on  my  ain  auld  life/' 

*'  Come,  sister, '^  said  the  Major,  "  you  must  not  be  cast 
down.  The  place  is  strong,  the  rebels  ignorant  and  ill  pro- 
vided ;  my  brother's  house  shall  not  be  made  a  den  of  thieves 
and  rebels  while  old  Miles  Bellenden  is  in  it.  My  hand  is 
weaker  than  it  was,  but  I  thank  my  old  gray  hairs  that  I  have 
some  knowledge  of  war  yet.  Here  comes  Pike  with  intelli- 
gence.    What  news;  Pike  ?    Another  Philiphaugh  job,  eh  ?'' 

^'Ay,  ay,''  said  Pike,  composedly  ;  ^'a  total  scatteriug.  I 
thought  this  morning  little  gude  would  come  of  their  new- 
fangled gate  of  slinging  their  carabines." 

"  Whom  did  you  see  ?  Who  gave  you  the  news  ?  "  asked 
the  Major. 

'*  0,  mair  than  half  a  dozen  dragoon  fellows  that  are  a'  on 
the  spur  whilk  to  get  first  to  Hamilton.  They'll  win  the 
race,  I  warrant  them,  win  the  battle  wha  like." 

''  Continue  your  preparations,  Harrison,"  said  the  alert 
veteran  ;  ^'get  your  ammunition  in,  and  the  cattle  killed. 
Send  down  to  the  borough-town  for  what  meal  you  can  gather. 
We  must  not  lose  an  instant.  Had  not  Edith  and  you,  sister, 
better  return  to  Cham  wood,  while  we  have  the  means  of  send- 
ing you  there  ?  " 

^^  No,  brother,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  looking  very  pale, 
but  speaking  with  the  greatest  composure  ;  *^  since  the  auld 
house  is  to  be  held  out,  I  will  take  my  chance  in  it.  I  have 
fled  twice  from  it  in  my  days,  and  I  have  aye  found  it  deso- 
late of  its  bravest  and  its  bonniest  when  I  returned  ;  sae  that 
I  will  e'en  abide  now,  and  end  my  pilgrimage  in  it." 

*^  It  may,  on  the  whole,  be  the  safest  course  both  for  Edith 
and  you,"  said  the  Major  ;  '*  for  the  Whigs  will  rise  all  the  way 
between  this  and  Glasgow,  and  make  your  travelling  there,  or 
your  dwelling  at  Charnwood,  very  unsafe." 

"  So  be  it,  then,"  said  Lady  Margaret ;  '*  and,  dear  brother, 
as  the  nearest  blood  relation  of  my  deceased  husband,  I  de- 
liver to  you  by  this  symbol  [here  she  gave  into  his  hand  the 
venerable  gold-headed  staff  of  the  deceased  Earl  of  Tor  wood] 
the  keeping  and  government  and  seneschalship  of  my  Tower 
of  Tillietudlem,  and  the  appurtenances  thereof,  with  full 
power  to  kill,  slay,  and  damage  those  who  shall  assail  the 
same,  as  freely  as  I  might  do  myself.  And  I  trust  you  will 
so  defend  it  as  becomes  a  house  in  which  his  most  sacred 
Majesty  has  not  disdained " 

'*  Pshaw  I  sister,"  interrupted  the  Major,  "we  have  no  time 
to  speak  about  the  king  and  his  breakfast  just  now." 


OLD  MORTALITY  181 

And  hastily  leaving  the  room  he  hurried,  with  all  the  alert- 
ness of  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  to  examine  the  state  of  his 
garrison,  and  superintend  -the  measures  which  were  necessary 
for  defending  the  place. 

The  Tower  of  Tillietudlem,  having  very  thick  walls  and 
very  narrow  windows,  having  also  a  very  strong  courtyard  wall, 
with  flanking  turrets  on  the  only  accessible  side,  and  rising  on 
the  other  from  the  very  verge  of  a  precipice,  was  fully  capable 
of  defence  against  anything  but  a  train  of  heavy  artillery. 

Famine  or  escalade  was  what  the  garrison  had  chiefly  to  fear. 
For  artillery,  the  top  of  the  Tower  was  mounted  with  some 
antiquated  wall-pieces,  and  small  cannons,  which  bore  the  old- 
fashioned  names  of  culverins,  sakers,  demi-sakers,  falcons,  and 
falconets.      These  the  Major,    with  the   assistance  of   John 
Gudyill,  caused  to  be  scaled  and  loaded,  and  pointed  them  so 
as  to  command  the  road  over  the  brow  of  the  opposite  hill,  by 
which  the  rebels  must  advance,  causing,  at  the  same  time,  two 
or  three  trees  to  be  cut  down,  which  would  have  impeded  the 
effect  of  the  artillery  when  it  should  be  necessary  to  use  it. 
With  the  trunks  of  these  trees,  and  other  materials,  he  directed 
barricades  to  be  constructed  upon  the  winding  avenue  which 
rose  to  the  Tower  along  the  high-road,  taking  care  that  each 
should  command  the  other.     The  large  gate  of  the  courtyard; 
he  barricaded  yet  more  strongly,  leaving  only  a  wicket  open  \ 
for  the  convenience  of  passage.     What  he  had  most  to  appre- 1 
hend  was  the  slenderness  of  his  garrison  ;  for  all  the  efforts  of  I 
the  steward  were  unable  to  get  more  than  nine  men  under  arms,  ! 
himself  and  Grudyill  included,  so  much  more  popular  was  the  ^ 
cause  of  the  insurgents  than  that  of  the  government.     ]\Iajor 
Bellenden  and   his  trusty   servant  Pike   made   the   garrison 
eleven  in  number,  of  whom  one-half  were  old  men.  The  round 
dozen  might  indeed  have  been  made  up,  would  Lady  Margaret 
have  consented  that  Goose  Gibbie  should  again  take  up  arms. 
But  she  recoiled  from  the  proposal,  when  moved  by  Gudyill, 
with  such  abhorrent  recollection  of  the  former  achievements  of 
that  luckless  cavalier  that  she  declared  she  would  rather  the 
Castle  were  lost  than  that  he  were  to  be  enrolled  in  the  defence 
of  it.     With  eleven  men,  however,  himself  included,  Major 
Bellenden  determined  to  hold  out  the  place  to  the  uttermost. 

The  arrangements  for  defence  were  not  made  without  the 
degree  of  fracas  incidental  to  such  occasions.  Women  shrieked, 
cattle  bellowed,  dogs  howled,  men  ran  to  and  fro,  cursing  and 
swearing  without  intermission  ;  the  lumbering  of  the  old  guns 
backwards  and  forwards  shook  the  battlements,  the  courts 
resounded  with  the  hasty  gallop  of  messengers  who  went  and 


\ 


188  WAVERLEV  NOVELS 

returned  npon  errands  of  importance,  and  the  din  of  warlike 
preparation  was  mingled  with  the  sound  of  female  laments. 

Such  a  Babel  of  discord  might  have  awakened  the  slum- 
bers of  the  very  dead,  and,  therefore,  was  not  long  ere  it  dis- 
pelled the  abstracted  reveries  of  Edith  Bellenden.  She  sent 
out  Jenny  to  bring  her  the  cause  of  the  tumult  which  shook 
the  Castle  to  its  very  basis  ;  but  Jenny,  once  engaged  in  the 
bustling  tide,  found  so  much  to  ask  and  to  hear  that  she  for- 
got the  state  of  anxious  uncertainty  in  which  she  had  left 
\  her  young  mistress.  Having  no  pigeon  to  dismiss  in  pursuit 
]  of  information  when  her  raven  messenger  had  failed  to  return 
I  with  it,  Edith  was  compelled  to  venture  in  quest  of  it  out  of 
I  the  ark  of  her  own  chamber  into  the  deluge  of  confusion  which 
I  overflowed  the  rest  of  the  Castle.  Six  voices  speaking  at 
once  informed  her,  in  reply  to  her  first  inquiry,  that  Claver'se 
and  all  his  men  were  killed,  and  that  ten  thousand  Whigs 
were  marching  to  besiege  the  Castle,  headed  by  John  Balfour 
of  Burley,  young  Milnwood,  and  Cuddie  Headrigg.  This 
strange  association  of  persons  seemed  to  infer  the  falsehood 
of  the  whole  story,  and  yet  the  general  bustle  in  the  Castle 
intimated  that  danger  was  certainly  apprehended. 

'^  Where  is  Lady  Margaret  ? ''  was  Edith's  second  ques- 
tion. 

"  In  her  oratory,"  was  the  reply — a  cell  adjoining  to  the 
chapel,  in  which  the  good  old  lady  was  wont  to  spend  the 
greater  part  of  the  days  destined  by  the  rules  of  the  Episco- 
pal Church  to  devotional  observances,  as  also  the  anniversa- 
ries of  those  on  which  she  had  lost  her  husband  and  her  chil- 
dren, and,  finally,  those  hours  in  which  a  deeper  and  more 
solemn  address  to  Heaven  was  called  for  by  national  or  domes- 
tic calamity. 

'*  Where,  then/'  said  Edith,  much  alarmed,  '*  is  Major 
Bellenden  ?" 

"On  the  battlements  of  the  Tower,  madam,  pointing 
the  cannon,"  was  the  reply. 

To  the  battlements,  therefore,  she  made  her  way,  impeded 
by  a  thousand  obstacles,  and  found  the  old  gentleman  in  the 
midst  of  his  natural  military  element,  commanding,  rebuking, 
encouraging,  instructing,  and  exercising  all  the  numerous 
duties  of  a  good  governor. 

"In  the  name  of  God,  what  is  the  matter,  uncle  ?"  ex- 
claimed Edith. 

"The  matter,  my  love  !"  answered  the  Major,  coolly,  m, 
with  spectacles  on  his  nose,  he  examined  the  position  of  a  gun. 
"  The  matter  !    Why — raise  her  breech  a  thought  more,  John 


OLD  MORTALITY  188 

Gndyill — the  matter !  Why,  Claver'se  is  routed,  my  dear,  aud 
the  Whigs  are  coming  down  upon  us  in  force,  that's  all  the 
matter/' 

''  Gracious  powers  \"  said  Edith,  whose  eye  at  that  instant 
caught  a  glance  of  the  road  which  ran  up  the  river,  *'and 
yonder  they  come  ! " 

"Yonder  !  where?"  said  the  veteran ;  and,  his  eyes  tak- 
ing the  same  direction,  he  beheld  a  large  body  of  horsemen 
coming  down  the  path.  *'  Stand  to  your  guns,  my  lads  \" 
was  the  first  exclamation  ;  "  we'll  make  them  pay  toll  as  they 
pass  the  heugh.  But  stay,  stay,  these  are  ceitainly  the  Life 
Guards." 

"0  no,  uncle,  no,"  replied  Edith;  "see  how  disorderly 
they  ride,  and  how  ill  they  keep  their  ranks ;  these  cannot  be 
the  fine  soldiers  who  left  us  this  morning." 

"Ah,  my  dear  girl !"  answered  the  Major,  "you  do  not 
know  the  difference  between  men  before  a  battle  and  after  a 
defeat  ;  but  the  Life  Guards  it  is,  for  I  see  the  red  and  blue 
and  the  king's  colors.  I  am  glad  they  have  brought  them  off, 
however." 

His  opinion  was  confirmed  as  the  troopers  approached 
nearer,  and  finally  halted  on  the  road  beneath  the  Tower ; 
while  their  commanding  officer,  leaving  them  to  breathe  and 
refresh  their  horses,  hastily  rode  up  the  hill. 

"It  is  Claverhouse,  sure  enough," said  the  Major;  "I  am 
glad  he  has  escaped,  but  he  has  lost  his  famous  black  horse. 
Let  Lady  Margaret  know,  John  Gudyill ;  order  some  refresh- 
ments ;  get  oats  for  the  soldiers'  horses ;  and  let  us  to  the 
hall,  Edith,  to  meet  him.  I  surmise  we  shall  hear  but  in- 
different news,*' 


CHAPTER  XX 

With  careless  gesture,  mind  unmoved. 

On  rade  he  north  the  plain, 
His  seem  in  thrang  of  fiercest  strife. 

When  winner  aye  the  same. 

Hardyknute. 

CoLOKEL  Grahame  of  Olaverhouse  met  the  family,  assembled 
in  the  hall  of  the  Tower,  with  the  same  serenity  and  the  same 
courtesy  which  had  graced  his  manners  in  the  morning.  He 
had  even  had  the  composure  to  rectify  in  part  the  derangement 
of  his  dress,  to  wash  the  signs  of  battle  from  his  face  and 
hands,  and  did  not  appear  more  disordered  in  his  exterior 
than  if  returned  from  a  morning  ride. 

'*I  am  grieved.  Colonel  Grahame,'^  said  the  reverend  old 
lady,  the  tears  trickling  down  her  face — *^  deeply  grieved.'' 

*'And  I  am  grieved,  my  dear  Lady  Margaret,''  replied 
Claverhouse,  *Hhat  this  misfortune  may  render  your  re- 
maining at  Tillietudlem  dangerous  for  you,  especially  consid- 
ering your  recent  hospitality  to  the  king's  troops,  and  your 
well-known  loyalty.  And  I  came  here  chiefly  to  request  Miss 
Bellenden  and  you  to  accept  my  escort — if  you  will  not  scorn 
that  of  a  poor  runaway — to  Glasgow,  from  whence  I  will  see 
you  safely  sent  either  to  Edinburgh  or  to  Dumbarton  Castle, 
as  you  shall  think  best." 

*^  I  am  much  obliged  to  you.  Colonel  Grahame,"  replied 
Lady  Margaret ;  '*  but  my  brother.  Major  Bellenden,  has 
taken  on  him  the  responsibility  of  holding  out  this  house 
against  the  rebels;  and,  please  God,  thej""' shall  never  drive 
Margaret  Bellenden  from  her  ain  hearth-stane  while  there's 
a  brave  man  that  says  he  can  defend  it." 

*'  And  will  Major  Bellenden  undertake  this  ?"  said  Claver- 
house, hastily,  a  joyful  light  glancing  from  his  dark  eye  as  he 
turned  it  on  the  veteran.  **  Yet  why  should  I  question  it  ? 
it  is  of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  his  life.  But  have  you  the 
means.  Major  ?  " 

'^  All  but  men  and  provisions,  with  which  we  are  ill  sup- 
plied," answered  the  Major. 

ast 


OLD  MORTALITY  185 

"  As  for  men/'  said  Claverliouse,  '"- 1  will  leave  yon  a  dozen 
or  twenty  fellows  who  will  make  good  a  breach  against  the 
devil.  It  will  be  of  the  utmost  service  if  you  can  defend  the 
place  but  a  week,  and  by  that  time  you  must  surely  be  re- 
lieved/' 

"  I  will  make  it  good  for  that  space.  Colonel/' replied  the 
Major,  "  with  twenty-five  good  men  and  store  of  ammunition, 
if  we  should  gnaw  the  soles  of  our  shoes  for  hunger ;  but  I 
trust  we  shall  get  in  provisions  from  the  country/'' 

^  ^  And,  Colonel  Grahame,  if  I  might  presume  a  request,^' 
said  Lady  Margaret,  *'  I  would  entreat  that  Sergeant  Francis 
Stewart  might  command  the  auxiliaries  whom  you  are  so  good 
as  to  add.  to  the  garrison  of  our  people  ;  it  may  serve  to  legiti- 
mate his  promotion,  and  I  have  a  prejudice  in  favor  of  his 
noble  birth/' 

'^The  sergeant's  wars  are  ended,  madam,"  said  Grahame, 
in  an  unaltered  tone,  *^and  he  now  needs  no  promotion  that 
an  earthly  master  can  give/' 

'^  Pardon  me,"  said  Major  Bellenden,  taking  Claverhouse 
by  the  arm,  and  turning  him  away  from  the  ladies,  *^  but  I 
am  anxious  for  my  friends  ;  I  fear  you  have  other  and  more 
important  loss.  I  observe  another  officer  carries  your  nephew's 
standard." 

'^  You  are  right.  Major  Bellenden," answered  Claverhouse, 
firmly;  ^^my  nephew  is  no  more.  He  has  died  in  his  duty, 
as  became  him." 

'^^  Great  God!"  exclaimed  the  Major,  ''^  how  unhappy  I 
The  handsome,  gallant,  high-spirited  youth  !  " 

*'  He  was  indeed  all  you  say,"  answered  Claverhouse  ; 
''  poor  Richard  was  to  me  as  an  eldest  son,  the  apple  of  my 
eye,  and  my  destined  heir  ;  but  he  died  in  his  duty,  and  I — I 
— Major  Bellenden  [he  wrung  the  Major's  hand  hard  as  he 
spoke],  I  live  to  avenge  him." 

^^  Colonel  Grahame,"  said  the  affectionate  veteran,  his  eyes 
filling  with  tears,  '{ I  am  glad  to  see  you  bear  this  misfortune 
with  such  fortitude/' 

'*I  am  not  a  selfish  man,"  replied  Claverhouse,  "though 
the  world  will  tell  you  otherwise — I  am  not  selfish  either  in 
my  hopes  or  fears,  my  joys  or  sorrows,  I  have  not  been  severe 
for  myself,  or  grasping  for  myself,  or  ambitious  for  myself. 
The  service  of  my  master  and  the  good  of  the  country  are 
what  I  have  tried  to  aim  at.  I  may,  perhaps,  have  driven 
severity  into  cruelty,  but  I  acted  for  the  best ;  and  now  I  will 
not  yield  to  my  own  feelings  a  deeper  sympathy  than  I  have, 
given  to  those  of  others/' 


186  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  I  am  astonished  at  your  fortitude  under  all  the  unpleas- 
ant circumstances  of  this  affair,"  pursued  the  Major. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Claverhouse,  "  my  enemies  in  the  council 
will  lay  this  misfortune  to  my  charge  ;  I  despise  their  accusa- 
tions. They  will  calumniate  me  to  my  sovereign  ;  I  can  repel 
their  charge.  The  public  enemy  will  exult  in  my  flight;  I 
shall  find  a  time  to  show  them  that  they  exult  too  early.  This 
youth  that  has  fallen  stood  betwixt  a  grasping  kinsman  and 
my  inheritance,  for  you  know  that  my  marriage-bed  is  barren  ; 
yet,  peace  be  with  him  !  the  country  can  better  spare  him 
than  your  friend  Lord  Evandale,  who,  after  behaving  very 
gallantly,  has,  I  fear,  also  fallen." 

"  What  a  fatal  day  ! "  ejaculated  the  Major.  ''  I  heard  a 
report  of  this,  but  it  was  again  contradicted  ;  it  was  added 
that  the  poor  young  nobleman's  impetuosity  had  occasioned 
the  loss  of  this  unhappy  field." 

''Not  so,  Major,"  said  Grahame  ;  ''let  the  living  officers 
bear  the  blame,  if  there  be  any ;  and  let  the  laurels  flourish 
untarnished  on  the  grave  of  the  fallen.  I  do  not,  however, 
spccik  of  Lord  Evandale's  death  as  certain  ;  but  killed  or 
prisoner  I  fear  he  must  be.  Yet  he  was  extricated  from  the 
tumult  the  last  time  we  spoke  together.  We  were  then  on  the 
point  of  leaving  the  field  with  a  rear-guard  of  scarce  twenty 
men  ;  the  rest  of  the  regiment  were  almost  dispersed." 

"They  have  rallied  again  soon,"  said  the  Major,  looking 
from  the  window  on  the  dragoons,  who  were  feeding  their 
horses  and  refreshing  themselves  beside  the  brook. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Claverhouse,  "  my  blackguards  had  little 
temptation  either  to  desert  or  to  straggle  farther  than  they 
wer^e  driven  by  their  first  panic.  There  is  small  friendship 
and  scant  courtesy  between  them  and  the  boors  of  this  country ; 
every  village  they  pass  is  likely  to  rise  on  them,  and  so  the 
scoundrels  are  driven  back  to  their  colors  by  a  wholesome 
terror  of  spits,  pike-staves,  hay-forks,  and  broomsticks.  But 
now  let  us  talk  about  your  plans  and  wants,  and  the  means  of 
corresponding  with  you.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  doubt  being 
able  to  make  a  long  stand  at  Glasgow,  even  when  I  have  joined 
my  Lord  Ross  ;  for  this  transient  and  accidental  success  of  the 
fanatics  will  raise  the  devil  through  all  the  western  counties." 

They  then  discussed  Major  Bellenden's  means  of  defence, 
and  settled  a  plan  of  correspondence,  in  case  a  general  insur- 
rection took  place,  as  was  to  be  expected.  Claverhouse  re- 
newed his  offer  to  escort  the  ladies  to  a  place  of  safety  ;  but, 
all  things  considered,  Major  Bellenden  thought  they  would  be 
in  equal  safety  at  Tillietudlem 


OLD  MORTALITY  187 

The  Colonel  then  took  a  polite  leave  of  Lady  Margaret  and 
Miss  Bellenden,  assuring  them  that  though  he  was  reluctantly 
obliged  to  leave  them  for  the  present  in  dangerous  circum- 
stances, yet  his  earliest  means  should  be  turned  to  the  redemp- 
tion of  his  character  as  a  good  knight  and  true,  and  that  they 
might  speedily  rely  on  hearing  from  or  seeing  him. 

Full  of  doubt  and  apprehension.  Lady  Margaret  was  little 
able  to  reply  to  a  speech  so  much  in  unison  with  her  usual 
expressions  and  feelings,  but  contented  herself  with  bid- 
ding Claverhouse  farewell,  and  thanking  him  for  the  succors 
which  he  had  promised  to  leave  them.  Edith  longed  to  in- 
quire the  fate  of  Henry  Morton,  but  could  find  no  pretext  for  do- 
ing so,  and  could  only  hope  that  it  had  made  a  subject  of  some 
part  of  the  long  private  communication  which  her  uncle  had 
held  with  Claverhouse.  On  this  subject,  however,  she  was 
disappointed  ;  for  the  old  Cavalier  was  so  deeply  immersed  in 
the  duties  of  his  own  office  that  he  had  scarce  said  a  single 
word  to  Claverhouse,  excepting  upon  military  matters,  and 
most  probably  would  have  been  equally  forgetful  had  the  fate 
of  his  OAvn  son,  instead  of  his  friend's,  lain  in  the  balance. 

Claverhouse  now  descended  the  bank  on  which  the  Castle 
is  founded;  in  order  to  put  his  troops  again  in  motion,  and 
Major  Bellenden  accompanied  him  to  receive  the  detachment 
who  were  to  be  left  in  the  tower. 

''  I  shall  leave  Inglis  with  you,"  said  Claverhouse,  *'  for, 
as  I  am  situated,  I  cannot  spare  an  officer  of  rank  ;  it  is  all 
we  can  do,  by  our  joint  efforts,  to  keep  the  men  together. 
But  should  any  of  our  missing  officers  make  their  appearance 
I  authorize  you  to  detain  them  ;  for  my  fellows  can  with  diffi- 
culty be  subjected  to  any  other  authority." 

His  troops  being  now  drawn  up,  he  picked  out  sixteen 
men  by  name,  and  committed  them  to  the  command  of  Cor- 
poral Inglis,  whom  he  promoted  to  the  rank  of  sergeant  on 
the  spot. 

'*  And  hark  ye,  gentlemen,"  was  his  concluding  harangue, 
^'  I  leave  you  to  defend  the  house  of  a  lady,  and  under  the 
command  of  her  brother.  Major  Bellenden,  a  faithful  servant 
to  the  king.  You  are  to  behave  bravely,  soberly,  regularly, 
and  obediently,  and  each  of  you  shall  be  handsomely  rewarded 
on  my  return  to  relieve  the  garrison.  In  case  of  mutiny,  cow- 
ardice, neglect  of  duty,  or  the  slightest  excess  in  the  family, 
the  provost-marshal  and  cord  ;  you  know  I  keep  my  word  for 
good  and  evil." 

He  touched  his  hat  as  he  bade  them  farewell,  and  shook 
hands  cordially  with  Major  Bellenden. 


188  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'  Adieu/'  he  said,  ^'  my  stout-hearted  old  friend  !  Good 
luck  be  Avith  you,  and  better  times  to  us  both/' 

The  horsemen  whom  he  commanded  had  been  once  more 
reduced  to  tolerable  order  by  the  exertions  of  Major  Allan  ; 
and,  though  shorn  of  their  splendor,  and  with  their  gilding 
all  besmirched,  made  a  much  more  regular  and  military  ap- 
pearance on  leaving,  for  the  second  time,  the  Tower  of  Tillie- 
tudlem  than  when  they  returned  to  it  after  their  rout. 

Major  Bellenden,  now  left  to  his  own  resources,  sent  out 
several  videttes,  both  to  obtain  supplies  of  provisions,  and 
especially  of  meal,  and  to  get  knowledge  of  the  motions  of  the 
enemy.  All  the  news  he  could  collect  on  the  second  subject 
tended  to  prove  that  the  insurgents  meant  to  remain  on  the 
field  of  battle  for  that  night.  But  they  also  had  abroad  their 
detachments  and  advanced  guards  to  collect  supplies,  and 
great  was  the  doubt  and  distress  of  those  who  received  con- 
trary orders,  in  the  name  of  the  king  and  in  that  of  the  kirk  ; 
the  one  commanding  them  to  send  provisions  to  victual  the 
Oastle  of  Tillietudlem,  and  the  other  enjoining  them  to  for- 
ward supplies  to  the  camp  of  the  godly  professors  of  true 
religion,  now  in  arms  for  the  cause  of  covenanted  reformation, 
presently  pitched  at  Drumclog,  nigh  to  Loudon  Hill.  Each 
summons  closed  with  a  denunciation  of  fire  and  sword  if  it 
was  neglected ;  for  neither  party  could  confide  so  far  in  the 
loyalty  or  zeal  of  those  whom  they  addressed  as  to  hope  they 
would  part  with  their  property  upon  other  terms.  So  that 
the  poor  people  knew  not  what  hand  to  turn  themselves  to  ; 
and,  to  say  truth,  there  were  some  who  turned  themselves  to 
more  than  one. 

*'Thir  kittle  times  will  drive  the  wisest  o'  us  daft,''  said 
Niel  Blane,  the  prudent  host  of  the  Howff ;  "  but  I'se  aye 
keep  a  calm  sough.     Jenny,  what  meal  is  in  the  girnel  ?  " 

"  Four  bows  o'  aitmeal,  twa  bows  o'  bear,  and  twa  bows  o' 
pease,"  was  Jenny's  reply. 

"Aweel,  hinny,"  continued  Niel  Blane,  sighing  deeply, 
"  let  Bauldy  drive  the  pease  and  bear  meal  to  the  camp  at 
Drumclog  ;  he's  a  Whig,  and  was  the  auld  gudewife's  pleugh- 
man  ;  the  mashlum  bannocks  will  suit  their  muirland  stamachs 
weel.  He  maun  say  it's  the  last  unce  o'  meal  in  the  house, 
or,  if  he  scruples  to  tell  a  lie — as  it's  no  likely  he  will  when 
if  3  for  the  gude  o'  the  house — he  may  wait  till  Duncan  Glen, 
the  auld  drucken  trooper,  drives  up  the  aitmeal  to  Tillietud- 
lem, wi'  my  dutifu'  service  to  my  Leddy  and  the  Major,  and 
I  haena  as  muckle  left  as  will  mak  my  parritch  ;  and  if  Dun- 


OLD  MORTALITY  189 

can  manage  right.  111  gie  him  a  tass  o'  whiskey  shall  mak  the 
blue  low  come  out  at  his  mouth." 

"  And  what  are  we  to  eat  oursells,  then,  father,"  asked 
Jenny,  "  when  we  hae  sent  awa'  the  haill  meal  in  the  ark  and 
the  girnel  ?  " 

*^  We  maun  gar  wheat-flour  serve  us  for  a  blink,"  said  Kiel, 
in  a  tone  of  resignation;  '^iVs  no  that  ill  food,  though  far 
frae  being  sae  hearty  or  kindly  to  a  Scotchman's  stamach  as 
the  curney  aitmeal  is.  The  Englishers  live  amaist  upon't ; 
but  to  be  sure,  the  pock-puddings  ken  nae  better." 

While  the  prudent  and  peaceful  endeavored,  like  Neil 
Blane,  to  make  fair  weather  with  both  parties,  those  who  had 
more  public  (or  party)  spirit  began  to  take  arms  on  all  sides. 
The  Eoyalists  in  the  country  were  not  numerous,  but  were  re- 
spectable from  their  fortune  and  influence,  being  chiefly  landed 
proprietors  of  ancient  descent,  who,  with  their  brothers, 
cousins,  and  dependants  to  the  ninth  generation,  as  well  as 
their  domestic  servants,  formed  a  sort  of  militia  capable  of 
defending  their  own  peel-houses  against  detached  bodies  of 
the  insurgents,  of  resisting  their  demand  of  supplies,  and  in- 
tercepting those  which  were  sent  to  the  Presbyterian  camp 
by  others.  The  news  that  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem  was  to 
be  defended  against  the  insurgents  afforded  great  courage 
and  support  to  these  feudal  volunteers,  who  considered  it  as 
a  stronghold  to  which  they  might  retreat,  in  case  it  should 
become  impossible  for  them  to  maintain  the  desultory  war 
they  were  now  about  to  wage. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  towns,  the  villages,  the  farm- 
houses, the  properties  of  the  small  heritors,  sent  forth  nu- 
merous recruits  to  the  Presbyterian  interest.  These  men  had 
been  the  principal  sufferers  during  the  oppression  of  the  time. 
Their  minds  were  fretted,  soured,  and  driven  to  desperation 
by  the  various  exactions  and  cruelties  to  which  they  had  been 
subjected  ;  and  although  by  no  means  united  among  them- 
selves either  concerning  the  purpose  of  this  formidable  in- 
surrection, or  the  means  by  which  that  purpose  was  to  be 
obtained,  most  of  them  considered  it  as  a  door  opened  by 
Providence  to  obtain  the  liberty  of  conscience  of  which  they 
had  been  long  deprived,  and  to  shake  themselves  free  of  a 
tyranny  directed  both  against  body  and  soul.  Numbers  of 
these  men,  therefore,  took  up  arms  ;  and,  in  the  phrase  of 
their  time  and  party,  prepared  to  cast  in  their  lot  with  the 
victors  of  Loudon  Hill. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Ananias.  I  do  not  like  the  man.     He  is  a  heathen, 
And  speaks  the  language  of  Canaan  truly. 

Tribulation.  You  must  await  his  calling,  and  the  coming 
Of  the  good  spirit.     You  did  ill  to  upbraid  him. 

The  Alchemist. 

We  return  to  Henry  Morton,  whom  we  left  on  the  field  of  battle. 
He  was  eating  by  one  of  the  watch-fires  his  portion  of  the  pro- 
visions which  had  been  distributed  to  the  army,  and  musing 
deeply  on  the  path  which  he  was  next  to  pursue,  when  Burley 
suddenly  came  up  to  him,  accompanied  by  the  young  minister, 
whose  exhortation  after  the  victory  had  produced  such  a  power- 
ful effect. 

"  Henry  Morton,^'  said  Balfour,  abruptly,  ''the council  of 
the  army  of  the  Covenant,  confiding  that  the  son  of  Silas  Mor- 
ton can  never  prove  a  lukewarm  Laodicean,  or  an  indifferent 
G-allio  in  this  great  day,  have  nominated  you  to  be  a  captain 
of  their  host,  with  the  right  of  a  vote  in  their  council,  and 
all  authority  fitting  for  an  officer  who  is  to  command  Chris- 
tian men.'' 

"Mr.  Balfour,''  replied  Morton,  without  hesitation, ''I  feel 
this  mark  of  confidence,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  a  natural 
sense  of  the  injuries  of  my  country,  not  to  mention  those  I 
have  sustained  in  my  own  person,  should  make  me  sufficiently 
willing  to  draw  my  sword  for  liberty  and  freedom  of  conscience. 
But  I  will  own  to  you,  that  I  must  be  better  satisfied  concern- 
ing the  principles  on  which  you  bottom  your  cause  ere  I  can 
.  agree  to  take  a  command  among  you." 

/        ''  And  can  you  doubt  of  our  principles,"  answered  Burley, 

I    *'  since  we  have  stated  them  to  be  the  reformation  both  of 

I    church  and  state,  the  rebuilding  of  the  decayed  sanctuary,  the 

I    gathering  of  the  dispersed  saints,  and  the  destruction  of  the 

I     man  of  sin  ?  " 

/  "I  will  own  frankly,  Mr.  Balfour,"  replied  Morton,  "  much 

of  this  sort  of  language,  which  I  observe  is  so  powerful  with 
others,  is  entirely  lost  on  me.  It  is  proper  you  should  be  aware 
of  this  before  we  commune  further  together."  The  young 
clergyman  here  groaned  deeply.     **I  distress  you,  sir,"  said 


>r^LD  MORTALITY  lltt 

Morton;  *'but  perhaps  it  is  because  you  will  not  hear  me  out. 
I  revere  the  Scriptures  as  deeply  as  you  or  any  Christian  caiL 
do.  I  look  into  them  with  humble  hope  of  extracting  a  rule 
of  conduct  and  a  law  of  salvation.  But  I  expect  to  find  this  " 
by  an  examination  of  their  general  tenor,  and  of  the  spirit 
which  they  uniformly  breathe,  and  not  by  wresting  particular 
passages  from  their  context,  or  by  the  application  of  Scriptu- 
ral phrases  to  circumstances  and  events  with  which  they  have 
often  very  slender  relation. "" 

The  young  divine  seemed  shocked  and  thunderstruck  with 
this  declaration,  and  was  about  to  remonstrate. 

**  Hush,  Ephraim  ! "  said  Burley,  **^  remember  he  is  but  as 
a  babe  in  swaddling-clothes.  Listen  to  me,  Morton.  I  will 
speak  to  the  3  in  the  worldly  language  of  that  carnal  reason 
which  is  for  the  present  thy  blind  and  imperfect  guide.  AY  hat 
is  the  object  for  which  thou  art  content  to  draw  thy  sword  ? 
Is  it  not  that  the  church  and  state  should  be  reformed  by  the 
free  voice  of  a  free  parliament,  with  such  laws  as  shall  here- 
after prevent  the  executive  government  from  spilling  the 
blood,  torturing  and  imprisoning  the  persons,  exhausting  the 
estates,  and  trampling  upon  the  consciences  of  men  at  their 
own  wicked  pleasure  ?  " 

*'  Most  certainly,"  said  Morton  ;  **  such  I  esteem  legitimate 
causes  of  warfare,  and  for  such  I  will  fight  while  I  can  wield 
a  sword." 

'*  Nay,  but,"  said  Macbriar,  "ye  handle  this  matter  too 
tenderly ;  nor  will  my  conscience  permit  me  to  fard  or  daub 
over  the  causes  of  divine  wrath " 

"  Peace,  Ephraim  Macbriar  ! "  again  interrupted  Burley. 

"  I  will  not  peace,"  said  the  young  man.  "  Is  it  not  the 
cause  of  my  Master  who  hath  sent  me  ?  Is  it  not  a  profane 
and  Erastian  destroying  of  His  authority,  usurpation  of  His 
power,  denial  of  His  name,  to  place  either  King  or  Parlia-^ 
ment  in  His  place  as  the  master  and  governor  of  His  house- 
hold, the  adulterous  husband  of  His  spouse  ?  " 

"You  speak  well,"  said  Burley,  dragging  him  aside,  "but 
not  wisely ;  your  own  ears  have  heard  this  night  in  council 
how  this  scattered  remnant  are  broken  and  divided,  and  would 
ye  now  make  a  veil  of  separation  between  them  ?  Would  ye 
build  a  wall  with  unslaked  mortar  ?  If  a  fox  go  up,  it  will 
breach  it." 

"  I  know,"  said  the  young  clergyman,  in  reply,  "  that  thou 
art  faitlif ul,  honest,  and  zealous,  even  unto  slaying ;  but,  be- 
lieve me,  this  worldly  craft,  this  temporizing  with  sin  and  with 
infirmity,  is  in  itself  a  falling  away ;  and  I  fear  me  Heaven 


192  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

will  not  honor  us  to  do  much  more  for  His  glory,  when  we 
seek  to  carnal  cunning  and  to  a  fleshly  arm.  The  sanctified 
end  must  be  wrought  by  sanctified  means." 

'^I  tell  thee,"  answered  Balfour,  '^Hhy  zeal  is  too  rigid  in 
this  matter  ;  we  cannot  yet  do  without  the  help  of  the  Lao- 
diceans  and  the  Erastians ;  we  must  endure  for  a  space  the 
indulged  in  the  midst  of  the  council  ;  the  sons  of  Zeruiah 
are  yet  too  strong  for  us." 

"I  tell  thee  I  like  it  not,"  said  Macbriar  ;  *'  God  can  work 
deliverance  by  a  few  as  well  as  by  a  multitude.  The  host  of 
the  faithful  that  was  broken  upon  Pentland  Hills  paid  but 
the  fitting  penalty  of  acknowledging  the  carnal  interest  of 
that  tyrant  and  oppressor,  Charles  Stewart." 

'^  Well,  then,"  said  Balfour,  *'  thou  knowest  the  healing 
resolution  that  the  council  have  adopted — to  make  a  compre- 
hending declaration  that  may  suit  the  tender  consciences  of 
all  who  groan  under  the  yoke  of  our  present  oppressors. 
Return  to  the  council  if  thou  wilt,  and  get  them  to  recall  it, 
and  send  forth  one  upon  narrower  grounds ;  but  abide  not  here 
to  hinder  my  gaining  over  this  youth,  whom  my  soul  travails 
for  ;  his  name  alone  will  call  forth  hundreds  to  our  banners." 

*•  Do  as  thou  wilt,  then,"  said  Macbriar  ;  ''^  but  I  will  not 
"assist  to  mislead  the  youth,  nor  bring  him  into  jeopardy  of  life, 
unless  upon  such  grounds  as  will  insure  his  eternal  reward." 

The  more  artful  Balfour  then  dismissed  the  impatient 
preacher  and  returned  to  his  proselyte. 

That  we  may  be  enabled  to  dispense  with  detailing  at 
length  the  arguments  by  which  he  urged  Morton  to  join  the 
insurgents,  we  shall  take  this  opportunity  to  give  a  brief  sketch 
of  the  person  by  whom  they  were  used,  and  the  motives  which 
he  had  for  interesting  himself  so  deeply  in  the  conversion  of 
young  Morton  to  his  cause. 

John  Balfour  of  Kinloch,  or  Burley,  for  he  is  designated 
both  ways  in  the  histories  and  proclamations  of  that  melan- 
choly period,  was  a  gentleman  of  some  fortune,  and  of  good 
family,  in  the  county  of  Fife,  and  had  been  a  soldier  from 
his  youth  upwards.  In  the  younger  part  of  his  life  he  had 
been  wild  and  licentious,  but  had  early  laid  aside  open  profli- 
gacy and  embraced  the  strictest  tenets  of  Calvinism.  Un- 
fortunately, habits  of  excess  and  intemperance  were  more 
easily  rooted  out  of  his  dark,  saturnine,  and  enterprising 
spirit  than  the  vices  of  revenge  and  ambition,  which  continued, 
notwithstanding  his  religious  professions,  to  exercise  no  small 
sway  over  his  mind.  Daring  in  design,  precipitate  and  vio- 
lent in  execution,  and  going  to  the  very  extremity  of  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  193 

most  rigid  recusancy,  it  was  his  ambition  to  place  himself  at 
the  head  of  the  Presbyterian  interest.' 

To  attain  this  eminence  among  the  Whigs,  he  had  been 
active  in  attending  their  conventicles,  and  more  than  once 
had  commanded  them  when  they  appeared  in  arms,  and 
beaten  off  the  forces  sent  to  disperse  them.  At  length  the 
gratification  of  his  own  fierce  enthusiasm,  joined,  as  some  say, 
with  motives  of  private  revenge,  placed  him  at  the  head  of 
that  party  who  assassinated  the  Primate  of  Scotland  as  the 
author  of  the  sufferings  of  the  Presbyterians.  The  violent 
measures  adopted  by  government  to  revenge  this  deed,  not 
on  the  perpetrators  only,  but  on  the  whole  professors  of  the 
religion  to  which  they  belonged,  together  with  long  previous 
sufferings  without  any  prospect  of  deliverance,  except  by 
force  of  arms,  occasioned  the  insurrection  which,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  commenced  by  the  defeat  of  Claverhouse  in  the 
bloody  skirmish  of  Loudon  Hill. 

But  Burley,  notwithstanding  the  share  he  had  in  the  vic- 
tory, was  far  from  finding  himself  at  the  summit  which  his 
ambition  aimed  at.  This  was  partly  owing  to  the  various 
opinions  entertained  among  the  insurgents  concerning  the 
murder  of  Archbishop  Sharp.  The  more  violent  among 
them  did  indeed  approve  of  this  act  as  a  deed  of  justice  ex- 
ecuted upon  a  persecutor  of  God's  church  through  the  im- 
mediate inspiration  of  the  Deity  ;  but  the  greater  part  of  the 
Presbyterians  disowned  the  deed  as  a  crime  highly  culpable, 
although  they  admitted  that  the  Archbishop's  punishment 
had  by  no  means  exceeded  his  deserts.  The  insurgents  dif- 
fered in  another  main  point,  which  has  been  already  touched 
upon.  The  more  warm  and  extravagant  fanatics  condemned, 
as  guilty  of  a  pusillanimous  abandonment  of  the  rights  of  the 
church,  those  preachers  and  congregations  who  were  con- 
tented, in  any  manner,  to  exercise  their  religion  through  the 
permission  of  the  ruling  government.  This,  they  said,  was 
absolute  Erastianism,  or  subjection  of  the  church  of  God 
to  the  regulations  of  an  earthly  government,  and  therefore 
but  one  degree  better  than  Prelacy  or  Popery.  Again,  the 
more  moderate  party  were  content  to  allow  the  king's  title 
to  the  throne,  and  in  secular  affairs  to  acknowledge  iis 
authority,  so  long  as  it  was  exercised  with  due  regard  to  the 
liberties  of  the  subject,  and  in  conformity  to  the  laws  of  the 
realm.  But  the  tenets  of  the  wilder  sect,  called,  from  their 
leader,  Richard  Cameron,  by  the  name  of  Cameronians,  went 
the  length  of  disowning  the  reigning  monarch,  and  every  one 
of  his  successors  who  should  not  acknowledge  the  Solemn 


/' 


./ 


194  WAVERLEV  NOVELS 

League  and  Covenant.  The  seeds  of  disunion  were  therefore 
thickly  sown  in  this  ill-fated  party  ;  and  Balfour,  however 
enthusiastic,  and  however  much  attached  to  the  most  violent 
of  those  tenets  which  we  have  noticed,  saw  nothing  but  ruin 
to  the  general  cause  if  they  were  insisted  on  during  this 
crisis,  when  unity  was  of  so  much  consequence.  Hence  he 
disapproved,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  honest,  downright,  and 
ardent  zeal  of  Macbriar,  and  was  extremely  desirous  to  re- 
ceive the  assistance  of  the  moderate  party  of  Presbyterians  in 
the  immediate  overthrow  of  the  government,  with  the  hope 
of  being  hereafter  able  to  dictate  to  them  what  should  be 
substituted  in  its  place. 

He  was  on  this  account  particularly  anxious  to  secure  the 
accession  of  Henry  Morton  to  the  cause  of  the  insurgents. 
The  memory  of  his  father  was  generally  esteemed  among  the 
Presbyterians  ;  and  as  few  persons  of  any  decent  quality  had 
joined  the  insurgents,  this  young  man's  family  and  pros- 
pects were  such  as  almost  insured  his  being  chosen  a  leader. 
Through  Morton's  means,  as  being  the  son  of  his  ancient 
comrade,  Burley  conceived  he  might  exercise  some  influence 
over  the  more  liberal  part  of  the  army,  and  ultimately  per- 
haps ingratiate  himself  so  far  with  them  as  to  be  chosen 
commander-in-chief,  which  was  the  mark  at  which  his  ambi- 
tion aimed.  He  had  therefore,  without  waiting  till  any  other 
person  took  up  the  subject,  exalted  to  the  council  the  talents 
and  disposition  of  Morton,  and  easily  obtained  his  elevation 
to  the  painful  rank  of  a  leader  in  this  disunited  and  undis- 
ciplined army. 

The  arguments  by  which  Balfour  pressed  Morton  to  accept 
of  this  dangerous  promotion,  as  soon  as  he  had  gotten  rid  of 
his  less  wary  and  uncompromising  companion,  Macbriar,  were 
sufficiently  artful  and  urgent.  He  did  not  affect  either  to 
deny  or  to  disguise  that  the  sentiments  which  he  himself  en- 
tertained concerning  church  government  went  as  far  as  those 
of  the  preacher  who  had  just  left  them  ;  but  he  argued  that 
when  the  affairs  of  the  nation  were  at  such  a  desperate  crisis, 
minute  difference  of  opinion  should  not  prevent  those  who, 
in  general,  wished  well  to  their  oppressed  country  from  draw- 
ing their  swords  in  its  behalf.  Many  of  the  subjects  of  divi- 
sion, as,  for  example,  that  concerning  the  Indulgence  itself, 
arose,  he  observed,  out  of  circumstances  which  would  cease  to 
exist,  provided  their  attempt  to  free  the  country  should  be 
successful,  seeing  that  the  Presbytery,  being  in  that  case  tri- 
umphant, would  need  to  make  no  such  compromise  with  the 
government,  and,  consequently,  with  the  abolition  of  the  In- 


OLD  MORTALITY  195 

dulgence  all  discnssion  of  its  legality  would  be  at  once  ended. 
He  insisted  much  and  strongly  upon  the  necessity  of  taking 
advantage  of  this  favorable  crisis,  upon  the  certainty  of  their 
being  joined  by  the  force  of  the  whole  western  shires,  and 
upon  the  gross  guilt  which  those  would  incur  who,  seeing  the 
distress  of  the  country  and  the  increasing  tyranny  with  which 
it  was  governed,  should,  from  fear  or  indifference,  withhold 
their  active  aid  from  the  good  cause. 

Morton  wanted  not  these  arguments  to  indnce  him  to  join 
in  any  insurrection  which  might  appear  to  have  a  feasible 
prospect  of  freedom  to  the  country.  He  doubted,  indeed, 
greatly  whether  the  present  attempt  was  likely  to  be  sup- 
ported by  the  strength  sufiBcient  to  insure  success,  or  by  the 
wisdom  and  liberality  of  spirit  necessary  to  make  a  good  use 
of  the  advantages  that  might  be  gained.  Upon  the  whole, 
however,  considering  the  wrongs  he  had  personally  endured, 
and  those  which  he  had  seen  daily  inflicted  on  his  fellow-sub- 
jects, meditating  also  upon  the  precarious  and  dangerous  sit- 
uation in  which  he  already  stood  with  relation  to  the  govern- 
ment, he  conceived  himself,  in  every  point  of  view,  called 
upon  to  join  the  body  of  Presbyterians  already  in  arms. 

But  while  he  expressed  to  Burley  his  acquiescence  in  the 
vote  which  had  named  him  a  leader  among  the  insurgents,  and 
a  member  of  their  council  of  war,  it  was  not  without  a  quali- 
fication. 

"  I  am  willing,^'  he  said,  *Ho  contribute  everything  with- 
in my  limited  power  to  effect  the  emancipation  of  my  country. 
But  do  not  mistake  me.  I  disapprove,  in  the  utmost  degree, 
of  the  action  in  which  this  rising  seems  to  have  originated ; 
and  no  arguments  should  induce  me  to  join  it,  if  it  is  to  be 
carried  on  by  such  measures  as  that  with  which  it  has  com- 
menced.'' 

Burle/s  blood  rushed  to  his  face,  giving  a  ruddy  and  dark 
glow  to  his  swarthy  brow. 

*'  You  mean,^'  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  he  designed  should 
not  betray  any  emotion — "you  mean  the  death  of  James 
Sharp  ?^' 

'^ Frankly,'^  answered  Morton,  ''such  is  my  meaning. '^ 

*'  You  imagine,  then,^^  said  Burley,  ''that  the  Almighty 
in  times  of  difficulty  does  not  raise  up  instruments  to  deliver 
His  church  from  her  oppressors  ?  You  are  of  opinion  that  the 
justice  of  an  execution  consists,  not  in  the  extent  of  the  suf- 
ferer^s  crime,  or  in  his  having  merited  punishment,  or  in  the 
wholesome  and  salutary  effect  which  that  example  is  likely  to 
produce  upon  other  evil-doers,  but  hold  that  it  rests  solely  in 


196  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  robe  of  the  judge,  the  height  of  the  bench,  and  the  voic« 
of  the  doomster  ?  Is  not  just  punishment  justly  inflicted, 
whether  on  the  scaffold  or  the  moor  ?  And  where  constituted 
judges,  from  cowardice,  or  from  having  cast  in  their  lot  with 
transgressors,  suffer  them  not  only  to  pass  at  liberty  through 
the  land,  but  to  sit  in  the  high  places  and  dye  their  garments 
in  the  blood  of  the  saints,  is  it  not  well  done  in  any  brave 
spirits  who  shall  draw  their  private  swords  in  the  public 
cause  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  judge  this  individual  action,'^  replied 
Morton,  "  further  than  is  necessary  to  make  you  fully  aware 
of  my  principles.  I  therefore  repeat  that  the  case  you  have 
supposed  does  not  satisfy  my  judgment.  That  the  Almighty, 
in  His  mysterious  providence,  may  bring  a  bloody  man  to  an 
end  deservedly  bloody  does  not  vindicate  those  who,  without 
authority  of  any  kind,  take  upon  themselves  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  execution,  and  presume  to  call  them  the  executors 
of  divine  vengeance.'' 

^' And  were  we  not  so  ?"  said  Burley,  in  a  tone  of  fierce 
enthusiasm.  "Were  not  we — was  not  every  one  who  owned 
the  interest  of  the  Covenanted  Church  of  Scotland — bound 
by  that  covenant  to  cut  off  the  Judas  who  had  sold  the  cause 
of  God  for  fifty  thousand  merks  a  year  ?  Had  we  met  him  by 
the  way  as  he  came  down  from  London,  and  there  smitten 
him  with  the  edge  of  the  sword,  we  had  done  but  the  duty  of 
men  faithful  to  our  cause  and  to  our  oaths  recorded  in  heaven. 
Was  not  the  execution  itself  a  proof  of  our  warrant  ?  Did  not 
the  Lord  deliver  him  into  our  hands  when  we  looked  out  but 
for  one  of  His  inferior  tools  of  persecution  ?  Did  we  not 
pray  to  be  resolved  how  we  should  act,  and  was  it  not  borne  in 
on  our  hearts  as  if  it  had  been  written  on  them  with  the  point 
of  a  diamond,  '  Ye  shall  surely  take  him  and  slay  him  ? ' 
Was  not  the  tragedy  full  half  an  hour  in  acting  ere  the  sacri- 
fice was  completed,  and  that  in  an  open  heath,  and  within  the 
patrols  of  their  garrisons ;  and  yet  who  interrupted  the  great 
work  ?  What  dog  so  much  as  bayed  us  during  the  pursuit, 
the  taking,  the  slaying,  and  the  dispersing  ?  Then,  who  will 
say — who  dare  say,  that  a  mightier  arm  than  ours  was  not 
herein  revealed  ?" 

''You  deceive  yourself,  Mr.  Balfour,"  said  Morton; 
"  such  circumstances  of  facility  of  execution  and  escape  have 
often  attended  the  commission  of  the  most  enormous  crimes. 
But  it  is  not  mine  to  judge  you.  I  have  not  forgotten  that 
the  way  was  opened  to  the  former  liberation  of  Scotland  by 
an  act  of  violence  which  no  man  can  justify— the  slaughter 


OLD  MORTALITY  197 

of  Gumming  by  the  hand  of  Eobert  Bruce;  and  therefore 
condemning  this  action,  as  I  do  and  must,  I  am  not  unwilling 
to  suppose  that  you  may  have  motives  vindicating  it  in  your 
own  eyes,  though  not  in  mine  or  in  those  of  sober  reason.  I 
only  now  mention  it  because  I  desire  you  to  understand  that 
I  join  a  cause  supported  by  men  engaged  in  open  war,  which 
it  is  proposed  to  carry  on  according  to  the  rules  of  civilized 
nations,  without  in  any  respect  approving  of  the  act  of  vio- 
lence which  gave  immediate  rise  to  it/' 

Balfour  bit  his  lip,  and  with  difficulty  suppressed  a  violent 
answer.  He  perceived  with  disappointment  that,  upon  points 
of  principle,  his  young  brother-in-arms  possessed  a  clearness 
of  judgment  and  a  firmness  of  mind  which  afforded  butjijttle 
hope  of  his  being  able  to  exert  that  degree  of  influence. over 
him  which  he  liad  expected  to  possess.  After  a  moment's 
pause,  however,  he  said,  with  coolness,  *'  My  conduct  is  open 
to  men  and  angels.  The  deed  was  not  done  in  a  corner ;  I 
am  here  in  arms  to  avow  it,  and  care  not  where  or  by  whom 
I  am  called  on  to  do  so,  whether  in  the  council,  the  field  of 
battle,  the  place  of  execution,  or  the  day  of  the  last  great 
trial.  I  will  not  now  discuss  it  further  with  one  who  is  yet 
on  the  other  side  of  the  veil.  But  if  you  will  cast  in  your  lot 
with  us  as  a  brother,  come  with  me  to  the  council,  who  are 
still  sitting  to  arrange  the  future  march  of  the  army  and  the 
means  of  improving  our  victory.'' 

Morton  arose  and  followed  him  in  silence,  not  greatly  de- 
lighted with  his  associate,  and  better  satisfied  with  the  gen- 
eral justice  of  the  cause  which  he  had  espoused  than  either 
with  the  measures  or  the  motives  of  many  of  those  who  were 
embarked  in  it. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

And  look  how  many  Grecian  tents  do  stand 
Hollow  upon  this  plain — so  many  hollow  factions. 

Troilus  and  Cressida, 

In"  a  hollow  of  the  hill,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  field 
of  battle,  was  a  shepherd^s  hut — a  miserable  cottage,  which,  as 
the  only  enclosed  spot  within  a  moderate  distance,  the  leaders 
of  the  Presbyterian  army  had  chosen  for  their  council-house. 
Towards  this  spot  Burley  guided  Morton,  who  was  surprised, 
as  he  approached  it,  at  the  multifarious  confusion  of  sounds 
which  issued  from  its  precincts.  The  calm  and  anxious  gravity 
which  it  might  be  supposed  would  have  presided  in  councils 
held  on  such  important  subjects,  and  at  a  period  so  critical, 
seemed  to  have  given  place  to  discord,  wild  and  loud  uproar- 
which  fell  on  the  ear  of  their  new  ally  as  an  evil  augury  of 
their  future  measures.  As  they  approached  the  door,  they 
found  it  open,  indeed,  but  choked  up  with  the  bodies  and 
heads  of  countrymen,  who,  though  no  members  of  the  council, 
felt  no  scruple  in  intruding  themselves  upon  deliberations  in 
which  they  were  so  deeply  interested.  By  expostulation,  by 
threats,  and  even  by  some  degree  of  violence,  Burley,  the 
sternness  of  whose  character  maintained  a  sort  of  superiority 
over  these  disorderly  forces,  compelled  the  intruders  to  retire, 
and  introducing  Morton  into  the  cottage,  secured  the  door 
behind  them  against  impertinent  curiosity.  At  a  less  agitat- 
ing moment  the  young  man  might  have  been  entertained  with 
the  singular  scene  of  which  he  now  found  himself  an  auditor 
and  a  spectator. 

The  precincts  of  the  gloomy  and  ruinous  hut  were  enlight- 
ened partly  by  some  furze  which  blazed  on  the  hearth,  the 
smoke  whereof,  having  no  legal  vent,  eddied  around,  and 
formed  over  the  heads  of  the  assembled  council  a  clouded 
canopy  as  opaque  as  their  metaphysical  theology,  through 
which,  like  stars  through  mist,  were  dimly  seen  to  twinkle  a 
few  blinking  candles,  or  rather  rushes  dipped  in  tallow,  the 
property  of  the  poor  owner  of  the  cottage,  which  were  stuck 
to  the  walls  by  patche?  of  wet  clay.     This  broken  and  dusky 


OLD  MORTALITY  199 

light  showed  many  a  countenance  elated  with  spiritual  pride, 
or  rendered  dark  by  fierce  enthusiasm  ;  and  some  whose  anx- 
ious, wandering,  and  uncertain  looks  showed  they  felt  them- 
selves rashly  embarked  in  a  cause  which  they  had  neither  cour- 
age nor  conduct  to  bring  to  a  good  issue,  yet  knew  not  how  to 
abandon  for  very  shame.  They  were,  indeed,  a  doubtful  and 
disunited  body.  The  most  active  of  their  number  were  those 
concerned  with  Burley  in  the  death  of  the  Primate,  four  or 
five  of  whom  had  found  their  way  to  Loudon  Hill,  together 
with  other  men  of  the  same  relentless  and  uncompromising 
zeal,  who  had  in  various  ways  given  desperate  and  unpardon- 
able offence  to  the  government. 

With  them  were  mingled  their  preachers,  men  who  had 
spurned  at  the  Indulgence  offered  by  government,  and  pre- 
ferred assembling  their  flocks  in  the  wilderness  to  worship- 
ping in  temples  built  by  human  hands,  if  their  doing  the 
latter  should  be  construed  to  admit  any  right  on  the  part  of 
their  rulers  to  interfere  with  the  supremacy  of  the  kirk.  The 
other  class  of  counsellors  were  such  gentlemen  of  small  for- 
tune, and  substantial  farmers,  as  a  sense  of  intolerable  op- 
pression had  induced  to  take  arms  and  join  the  insurgents. 
These  also  had  their  clergymen  with  them  ;  and  such  divines, 
having  many  of  them  taken  advantage  of  the  Indulgence, 
were  prepared  to  resist  the  measures  of  their  more  violent 
brethren,  who  proposed  a  declaration  in  which  they  should 
give  testimony  against  the  warrants  and  instructions  for  in- 
dulgence as  sinful  and  unlawful  acts.  This  delicate  question 
had  been  passed  over  in  silence  in  the  first  draught  of  the 
manifestoes  which  they  intended  to  publish  of  the  reasons  of 
their  gathering  in  arms  ;  but  it  had  been  stirred  anew  during 
Balfour's  absence,  and  to  his  great  vexation  he  now  found 
that  both  parties  had  opened  upon  it  in  full  cry,  Macbriar, 
Kettledrummle,  and  other  teachers  of  the  Wanderers  being 
at  the  very  spring-tide  of  polemical  discussion  with  Peter 
Poundtext,  the  indulged  pastor  of  Milnwood's  parish,  who,  it 
seems,  had  e'en  girded  himself  with  a  broadsword,  but,  ere 
he  was  called  upon  to  fight  for  the  good  cause  of  Presbytery 
in  the  field,  was  manfully  defending  his  own  dogmata  in  the 
council.  It  was  the  din  of  this  conflict,  maintained  chiefly 
between  Poundtext  and  Kettledrummle,  together  with  the 
clamor  of  their  adherents,  which  had  saluted  Morton's  ears 
upon  approaching  the  cottage.  Indeed,  as  both  the  divines 
were  men  well  gifted  with  words  and  lungs,  and  each  fierce, 
ardent,  and  intolerant  in  defence  of  his  own  doctrine,  prompt 
in  the  recollection  of   texts  wherewith  they  battered  each 


«00  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Other  without  mercy,  and  deeply  impressed  with  the  impor- 
tance of  the  subject  of  discussion,  the  noise  of  the  debate  be- 
twixt them  fell  little  short  of  that  which  might  have  attended 
an  actual  bodily  conflict. 

Burley,  scandalized  at  the  disunion  implied  in  this  virulent 
strife  of  tongues,  interposed  between  the  disputants,  and,  by 
some  general  remarks  on  the  unseasonableness  of  discord,  a 
soothing  address  to  the  vanity  of  each  party,  and  the  exertion 
of  the  authority  which  his  services  in  that  day's  victory  en- 
titled him  to  assume,  at  length  succeeded  in  prevailing  upon 
them  to  adjourn  further  discussion  of  the  controversy.  But 
although  Kettledrummle  and  Poundtext  were  thus  for  the  time 
silenced,  they  continued  to  eye  each  other  like  two  dogs,  who, 
having  been  separated  by  the  authority  of  their  masters  while 
fighting,  have  retreated,  each  beneath  the  chair  of  his  owner, 
still  watching  each  other's  motions,  and  indicating,  by  occa- 
sional growls,  by  the  erected  bristles  of  the  back  and  ears,  and 
by  the  red  glance  of  the  eye,  that  their  discord  is  unappeased, 
and  that  they  only  wait  the  first  opportunity  afforded  by  any 
general  movement  or  commotion  in  the  company  to  fly  once 
more  at  each  other's  throats. 

Balfour  took  advantage  of  the  momentary  pause  to  present 
to  the  council  Mr.  Henry  Morton  of  Milnwood,  as  one  touched 
with  a  sense  of  the  evils  of  the  times,  and  willing  to  peril  goods 
and  life  in  the  precious  cause  for  which  his  father,  the  re- 
nowned Silas'  Morton,  had  given  in  his  time  a  soul-stirring 
testimony.  Morton  was  instantly  received  with  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship  by  his  ancient  pastor,  Poundtext,  and  by  those 
among  the  insurgents  who  supported  the  more  moderate  prin- 
ciples. The  others  muttered  something  about  Erastianism, 
and  reminded  each  other  in  whispers  that  Silas  Morton,  once  a 
stout  and  worthy  servant  of  the  Covenant,  had  been  a  backslider 
in  the  day  when  the  Resolutioners  had  led  the  way  in  owning 
the  authority  of  Charles  Stewart,  thereby  making  a  gap  whereat 
the  present  tyrant  was  afterwards  brought  in  to  the  oppression 
both  of  kirk  and  country.  They  added,  however,  that  on  this 
great  day  of  calling  they  would  not  refuse  society  with  any  who 
should  put  hand  to  the  plough  ;  and  so  Morton  was  installed 
in  his  office  of  leader  and  counsellor,  if  not  with  the  full 
approbation  of  his  colleagues,  at  least  without  any  formal  or 
avowed  dissent.  They  proceeded,  on  Burle/s  motion,  to  di- 
vide among  themselves  the  command  of  the  men  who  had 
assembled,  and  whose  numbers  were  daily  increasing.  In  this 
partition  the  insurgents  of  Pound  text's  parish  and  congrega- 
tion were  naturally  placed  under  the  command  of  Morton;  an 


OLD  MORTALITY  201 

arrangement  mutually  agreeable  to  both  parties,  as  he  was 
recommended  to  their  confidence  as  well  by  his  personal  quali- 
ties as  his  having  been  born  among  them. 

When  this  task  was  accomplished,  it  became  necessary  to 
determine  what  use  was  to  be  made  of  their  victory.  Morton's 
heart  throbbed  high  when  he  heard  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem 
named  as  one  of  the  most  important  positions  to  be  seized  upon. 
It  commanded,  as  we  have  often  noticed,  the  pass  between  the 
more  wild  and  the  more  fertile  country,  and  must  furnish,  it 
was  plausibly  urged,  a  stronghold  and  place  of  rendezvous  to 
the  Cavaliers  and  Malignants  of  the  district,  supposing  the  in- 
surgents were  to  march  onward  and  leave  it  uninvested.  This 
measure  was  particularly  urged  as  necessary  by  Poundtext 
and  those  of  his  immediate  followers  whose  habitations  and 
families  might  be  exposed  to  great  severities  if  this  strong 
place  were  permitted  to  remain  in  possession  of  the  Eoyal- 

istS.  Cjf^rJ^ 

"  I  opine,"  said  Poundtext,  for,  like  the  other  divines  of  ^J/f^  J^ 
the  period,  he  had  no  hesitation  in  offering  his  advice  upon  ^   *[/vS^ 
military  matters,  of  which  he  was  profoundly  ignorant — **  I     ^^je^ 
opine  tliat  we  sliould  take  in  and  raze  that  stronghold  of  the     y^ 
woman  Lady   Margaret   Bellenden,  even  though  we  should 
build  a  fort  and  raise  a  mount  against  it ;  for  the  race  is  a  re- 
bellious and  a  bloody  race,  and  their  hand  has  been  heavy  on 
the  children  of  the  Covenant,  both  in  the  former  and  the  lat- 
ter times.     Their  hook  hath  been  in  our  noses,  and  their  bri- 
dle betwixt  our  jaws.'' 

"  What  are  their  means  and  men  of  defence  ?  "  said  Bur- 
ley.  ''  The  place  is  strong  ;  but  I  cannot  conceive  that  two 
women  can  make  it  good  against  a  host." 

*•'  There  is  also,"  said  Poundtext,  *'  Harrison  the  steward, 
and  John  Gudyill,  even  the  lady's  chief  butler,  who  boasteth 
himself  a  man  of  war  from  his  youth  upward,  and  who  spread 
the  banner  against  the  good  cause  with  that  man  of  Belial, 
James  Grahame  of  Montrose." 

"Pshaw  !"  returned  Burley,  scornfully,  "a  butler  !" 

"  Also,  there  is  that  ancient  Malignant,''  replied  Pound- 
text,  *^  Miles  Bellenden  of  Charnwood,  w^hose  hands  have  been 
dipped  in  the  blood  of  the  saints." 

"  If  that,"  said  Burley,  ''  be  Miles  Bellenden,  the  brother 
of  Sir  Arthur,  he  is  one  whose  sword  will  not  turn  back  from 
battle  ;  but  he  must  now  be  stricken  in  years." 

"  There  was  word  in  the  country  as  I  rode  along,"  said 
another  of  the  council,  '^  that  so  soon  as  they  heard  of  the 
victory  which  has  been  given  to  us,  they  caused  shut  the  gates 


202  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

of  the  Tower,  and  called  in  men,  and  collected  ammunition. 
They  were  ever  a  fierce  and  a  malignant  house." 

''  We  will  not,  with  my  consent,"  said  Burley,  "  engag* 
in  a  siege  which  may  consume  time.  We  must  rush  forward 
and  follow  our  advantage  by  occupying  Glasgow  ;  fori  do  not 
fear  that  the  troops  we  have  this  day  beaten,  even  with  the 
assistance  of  my  Lord  Ross's  regiment,  will  judge  it  safe  to 
await  our  coming." 

^^  Howbeit,"  said  Poundtext,  ^*we  may  display  a  banner 
before  the  Tower,  and  blow  a  trumpet  and  summon  them  to 
come  forth.  It  may  be  that  they  will  give  over  the  place 
into  our  mercy  though  they  be  a  rebellious  people.  And  we 
will  summon  the  women  to  come  forth  of  their  stronghold — 
that  is.  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  and  her  granddaughter, 
and  Jenny  Dennison,  which  is  a  girl  of  an  ensnaring  eye, 
and  the  other  maids,  and  we  will  give  them  a  safe-conduct, 
and  send  them  in  peace  to  the  city,  even  to  the  town  of  Edin- 
burgh. But  John  Gudyill,  and  Hugh  Harrison,  and  Miles 
Bellenden,  we  will  restrain  with  fetters  of  iron,  even  as  they 
in  times  by-past  have  done  to  the  martyred  saints." 

^'  Who  talks  of  safe-conduct  and  of  peace  ?  "  said  a  shrill, 
broken,  and  overstrained  voice  from  the  crowd. 

^^  Peace,  brother  Habakkuk,"  said  Macbriar,  in  a  soothing 
tone  to  the  speaker. 

"  I  will  not  hold  my  peace,"  reiterated  the  strange  and 
unnatural  voice  ;  "  is  this  a  time  to  speak  of  peace,  when  the 
earth  quakes,  and  the  mountains  are  rent,  and  the  rivers  are 
changed  into  blood,  and  the  two-edged  sword  is  drawn  from 
the  sheath  to  drink  gore  as  if  it  were  water,  and  devour  flesh 
as  the  fire  devours  dry  stubble  ?  " 

While  he  spoke  thus,  the  orator  struggled  forward  to  the 
inner  part  of  the  circle,  and  presented  to  Morton's  wondering 
eyes  a  figure  worthy  of  such  a  voice  and  such  language.  The 
rags  of  a  dress  which  had  once  been  black,  added  to  the  tat- 
tered fragments  of  a  shepherd's  plaid,  composed  a  covering 
scarce  fit  for  the  purposes  of  decency,  much  less  for  those  of 
warmth  or  comfort.  A  long  beard,  as  white  as  snow,  hung 
down  on  his  breast,  and  mingled  with  bushy,  uncombed, 
grizzled  hair,  which  hung  in  elf-locks  around  his  wild  and 
staring  visage.  The  features  seemed  to  be  extenuated  by 
penury  and  famine,  until  they  hardly  retained  the  likeness  of 
a  human  aspect.  The  eyes,  gray,  wild,  and  wandering,  evi- 
dently betokened  a  bewildered  imagination.  He  held  in  his 
hand  a  rusty  sword,  clotted  with  blood,  as  were  his  long  lean 


Habbakuk  Mucklewrath  struggled  forward  to  tlie  inner  part  of  the  circle. 


OLD  MORTALITY  20S 

hands,  which  were  garnished  at  the  extremity  with  nails  like 
eagle's  claws. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven  I  who  is  he  ?  "  said  Morton,  in  a 
whisper  to  Poundtext,  surprised,  shocked,  and  even  startled 
at  this  ghastly  apparition,  which  looked  more  like  the  resur- 
rection of  some  cannibal  priest,  or  Druid  red  from  his  human 
sacrifice,  than  like  an  earthly  mortal. 

'^  It  is  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath,"  answered  Poundtext,  in 
the  same  tone,  '^  whom  the  enemy  have  long  detained  in  cap- 
tivity in  forts  and  castles,  until  his  understanding  hath  de- 
parted from  him,  and,  as  I  fear,  an  evil  demon  hath  possessed 
him.  Nevertheless,  our  .violent  brethren  will  have  it  that  he 
speaketh  of  the  spirit,  and  that  they  fructify  by  his  pouring 
forth.'' 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  Mucklewrath,  who  cried  in  a 
voice  that  made  the  very  beams  of  the  roof  quiver — '*  Who 
talks  of  peace  and  safe-conduct  ?  who  speaks  of  mercy  to  the 
bloody  house  of  the  Malignants  ?  I  say  take  the  infants  and 
dash  them  against  the  stones  ;  take  the  daughters  and  the 
mothers  of  the  house  and  hurl  them  from  the  battlements  of 
their  trust,  that  the  dogs  may  fatten  on  their  blood  as  they 
did  on  that  of  Jezabel,  the  spouse  of  Ahab,  and  that  their 
carcasses  may  be  dung  to  the  face  of  the  field  even  in  the  por- 
tion of  their  fathers  !  " 

*'  He  speaks  right,"  said  more  than  one  sullen  voice  from 
behind  ;  '^  we  will  be  honored  with  little  service  in  the  great 
cause  if  we  already  make  fair  weather  with  Heaven's  enemies.'^ 

"  This  is  utter  abomination  and  daring  impiety,"  said 
Morton,  unable  to  contain  his  indignation.  "  What  blessing 
can  you  expect  in  a  cause  in  which  you  listen  to  the  mingled 
ravings  of  madness  and  atrocity  ?  " 

"Hush,  young  man  !  "  said Kettledrummle,  ''and  reserve 
thy  censure  for  that  for  which  thou  canst  render  a  reason. 
It  is  not  for  thee  to  judge  into  what  vessels  the  spirit  may  be 
poured." 

"We  judge  of  the  tree  by  the  fruit,"  said  Poundtext, 
"and  allow  not  that  to  be  of  divine  inspiration  that  contra- 
dicts the  divine  laws." 

"  You  forget,  brother  Poundtext,"  said  Macbriar,  "  that 
these  are  the  latter  days  when  signs  and  wonders  shall  be 
multiplied." 

Poundtext  stood  forward  to  reply ;  but  ere  he  could  ar- 
ticulate a  word,  the  insane  preacher  broke  in  with  a  scream 
that  drowned  all  competition.  "Who  talks  of  signs  and 
wonders  ?    Am  not  I  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath,  whose  name  is 


/ 


/ 


204  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

changed  to  Magor-Missabib,  because  I  am  made  a  terror  unto 
myself  and  unto  all  that  are  around  me  ?  I  heard  it.  When 
did  I  hear  it  ?  Was  it  not  in  the  Tower  of  the  Bass,  that 
overhangeth  the  wide  wild  sea  ?  And  it  howled  in  the  winds, 
and  it  roared  in  the  billows,  and  it  screamed,  and  it  whistled, 
and  it  clanged,  with  the  screams  and  the  clang  and  the  whis- 
tle of  the  sea-birds,  as  they  floated,  and  flew,  and  dropped, 
and  dived,  on  the  bosom  of  the  waters.  I  saw  it.  Where 
did  I  see  it  ?  Was  it  not  from  the  high  peaks  of  Dunbarton, 
when  I  looked  westward  upon  the  fertile  land,  and  northward 
on  the  wild  Highland  hills ;  when  the  clouds  gathered  and 
the  tempest  came,  and  the  lightnings  of  heaven  flashed  in 
sheets  as  wide  as  the  banners  of  an  host  ?  What  did  I  see  ? 
Dead  corpses  and  wounded  horses,  the  rushing  together  of 
battle,  and  garments  rolled  in  blood.  What  heard  I  ?  The 
voice  that  cried,  '  Slay,  slay,  smite,  slay  utterly,  let  not  your 
eye  have  pity  !  slay  utterly,  old  and  young,  the  maiden,  the 
child,  and  the  woman  whose  head  is  gray.  Defile  the  house 
and  fill  the  courts  with  the  slain  ! ' " 

"  We  receive  the  command,^'  exclaimed  more  than  one  of 
the  company.  ^'  Six  days  he  hath  not  spoken  nor  broken 
bread,  and  now  his  tongue  is  unloosed.  We  receive  the  com- 
mand ;  as  he  hath  said,  so  will  we  do.'' 

Astonished,  disgusted,  and  horror-struck  at  what  he  had 
seen  and  heard,  Morton  turned  away  from  the  circle  and  left 
the  cottage.  He  was  followed  by  Burley,  who  had  his  eye 
on  his  motions. 

"  Whither  are  you  going  ?  "  said  the  latter,  taking  him 
by  the  arm. 

"  Anywhere,  I  care  not  whither  ;  but  here  I  will  abide  no 
longer.'' 

"  Art  thou  so  soon  weary,  young  man  ?  "  answered  Burley. 
^^  Thy  hand  is  but  now  put  to  the  plough,  and  wouldst  thou 
already  abandon  it  ?  Is  this  thy  adherence  to  the  cause  of 
thy  father?" 

''  No  cause,"  replied  Morton,  indignantly — *^  no  cause  can 
prosper  so  conducted.  One  party  declares  for  the  ravings  of 
a  bloodthirsty  madman  ;  another  leader  is  an  old  scholastic 
pedant ;  a  third  " — he  stopped,  and  his  companion  continued 
the  sentence — '*  Is  a  desperate  homicide,  thou  wouldst  say, 
like  John  Balfour  of  Burley  ?  I  can  bear  thy  misconstruction 
without  resentment.  Thou  dost  not  consider  that  it  is  not 
men  of  sober  and  self-seeking  minds  who  arise  in  these  days 
of  wrath  to  execute  judgment  and  to  accomplish  deliverance. 
Hadst  thou  but  seen  the  armies  of  England  during  her  Parlia- 


OLD  MORTALITY  206 

ment  of  1640,  whose  ranks  were  filled  with  sectaries  and  enthu- 
siasts wilder  than  the  Anabaptists  of  Munster,  thou  wouldst 
have  had  more  cause  to  marvel ;  and  yet  these  men  were  un- 
conquered  on  the  field,  and  their  hands  wrought  marvellous 
things  for  the  liberties  of  the  land." 

'*But  their  affairs,"  replied  Morton,  ''were  wisely  con- 
ducted, and  the  violence  of  their  zeal  expended  itself  in  their 
exhortations  and  sermons,  without  bringing  divisions  into 
their  counsels,  or  cruelty  into  their  conduct.  I  have  often 
heard  my  father  say  so,  and  protest  that  he  wondered  at  nothing 
so  much  as  the  contrast  between  the  extravagance  of  their  relig- 
ious tenets  and  the  wisdom  and  moderation  with  which  they 
conducted  their  civil  and  military  affairs.  But  our  councils 
seem  all  one  wild  chaos  of  confusion." 

''Thou  must  have  patience,  Henry  Morton,"  answered 
Balfour  ;  "  thou  must  not  leave  the  cause  of  thy  religion  and 
country  either  for  one  wild  word  or  one  extravagant  action. 
Hear  me.  I  have  already  persuaded  the  wiser  of  our  friends 
that  the  counsellors  are  too  numerous,  and  that  we  cannot  ex- 
pect that  the  Midianites  shall,  by  so  large  a  number,  be  deliv- 
ered into  our  hands.  They  have  hearkened  to  my  voice,  and 
our  assemblies  will  be  shortly  reduced  within  such  a  number 
as  can  consult  and  act  together ;  and  in  them  thou  shalthave 
a  free  voice,  as  well  as  in  ordering  our  affairs  of  war  and  pro- 
tecting those  to  whom  mercy  should  be  shown.  Art  thou  now 
satisfied  ?" 

"  It  will  give  me  pleasure,  doubtless,"  answered  Morton, 
"  to  be  the  means  of  softening  the  horrors  of  civil  war  ;  and 
I  will  not  leave  the  post  I  have  taken  unless  I  see  measures 
adopted  at  which  my  conscience  revolts.  But  to  no  bloody 
executions  after  quarter  asked,  or  slaughter  without  trial,  will 
I  lend  countenance  or  sanction  ;  and  you  may  depend  on  my 
opposing  them,  with  both  heart  and  hand,  as  constantly  and 
resolutely,  if  attempted  by  our  own  followers,  as  when  they 
are  the  work  of  the  enemy." 

Balfour  waved  his  hand  impatiently. 

"  Thou  wilt  find,"  he  said,  "  that  the  stubborn  and  hard- 
hearted generation  with  whom  we  deal  must  be  chastised  with 
scorpions  ere  their  hearts  be  humbled,  and  ere  they  accept 
the  punishment  of  their  iniquity.  The  word  is  gone  forth 
against  them,  '  I  will  bring  a  sword  upon  you  that  shall 
avenge  the  quarrel  of  my  Covenant.'  But  what  is  done  shall 
be  done  gravely,  and  with  discretion,  like  that  of  the  worthy 
James  Melvin,  who  executed  judgment  on  the  tyrant  and 
oppressor.  Cardinal  Beaton." 


J06  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''  I  own  to  you/'  replied  Morton,  "  that  I  feel  still  mom 
abhorrent  at  cold-blooded  and  premeditated  cruelty  than  at 
that  which  is  practised  in  the  heat  of  zeal  and  resentment/^ 

*'  Thou  art  yet  but  a  youth/'  replied  Balfour,  *'  and  hast 
not  learned  how  light  in  the  balance  are  a  few  drops  of  blood 
in  comparison  to  the  weight  and  importance  of  this  great 
national  testimony.  But  be  not  afraid  ;  thyself  shall  vote 
and  judge  in  these  matters  ;  it  may  be  we  shall  see  little  cause 
to  strive  together  anent  them/' 

With  this  concession  Morton  was  compelled  to  be  satis- 
fied for  the  present ;  and  Burley  left  him,  advising  him  to 
lie  down  and  get  some  rest,  as  the  host  would  probably  move 
in  the  morning. 

*'  And  you,"  answered  Morton,  *'  do  not  you  go  to  rest 
also?" 

''  No/'  said  Burley  ;  "  my  eyes  must  not  yet  know  slum- 
ber. This  is  no  work  to  be  done  lightly  ;  I  have  yet  to  perfect 
the  choosing  of  the  committee  of  leaders,  and  I  will  call  you 
by  times  in  the  morning  to  be  present  at  their  consultation." 

He  turned  away,  and  left  Morton  to  his  repose. 

The  place  in  which  he  found  himself  was  not  ill  adapted 
for  the  purpose,  being  a  sheltered  nook,  beneath  a  large  rock, 
well  protected  from  the  prevailing  wind.  A  quantity  of  moss 
with  which  the  ground  was  overspread  made  a  couch  soft 
enough  for  one  who  had  suffered  so  much  hardship  and  anx- 
iety. Morton  wrapped  himself  in  the  horseman's  cloak  which 
he  had  still  retained,  stretched  himself  on  the  ground,  and 
had  not  long  indulged  in  melancholy  reflections  on  the  state 
of  the  country,  and  upon  his  own  condition,  ere  he  was 
relieved  from  them  by  deep  and  sound  slumber. 

The  rest  of  the  army  slept  on  the  ground,  dispersed  in 
groups,  which  chose  their  beds  on  the  fields  as  they  could 
best  find  shelter  and  convenience.  A  few  of  the  principal 
leaders  held  wakeful  conference  with  Burley  on  the  state  of 
their  affairs,  and  some  watchmen  were  appointed  who  kept 
themselves  on  the  alert  by  chanting  psalms,  or  listening  to 
the  exercises  of  the  more  gifted  of  their  numbiar. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

Got  with  much  ease — now  merrily  to  horse. 

Henry  IV.,  Parti 

With  the  first  peep  of  day  Henry  awoke  and  found  the 
faithful  Cuddle  standing  beside  him  with  a  portmanteau  in 
his  hand. 

"  I  hae  been  just  putting  your  honoris  things  in  readiness 
again  ye  were  waking/'  said  Cuddie,  *'as  is  my  duty,  seeing 
ye  hae  been  sae  gude  as  to  tak  me  into  your  service/' 

"I  take  you  into  my  service,  Cuddie  ?"  said  Morton  ; 
*'you  must  be  dreaming." 

^'  Na,  na,  stir,"  answered  Cuddie  ;  "  didna  I  say  when  I 
was  tied  on  the  horse  yonder,  that  if  ever  ye  gat  loose  I  would 
be  your  servant,  and  ye  didna  say  no  ?  and  if  that  isna  hir- 
ing, I  kenna  what  is.  Ye  gae  me  nae  arles,  indeed,  but  ye 
had  gien  me  eneugh  before  at  Milnwood." 

*'  Well,  Cuddie,  if  you  insist  on  taking  the  chance  of  my 
unprosperous  fortunes " 

"  Ou,  ay,  I'se  warrant  us  a'  prosper  weel  eneugh,"  an- 
swered Cuddie,  cheeringly,  '^an  anes  my  auld  mither  was 
weel  putten  up.  I  hae  begun  the  campaigning  trade  at  an 
end  that  is  easy  eneugh  to  learn." 

"Pillaging,  I  suppose?"  said  Morton,  "for  how  else 
could  you  come  by  that  portmanteau  ?  " 

"  I  wotna  if  it's  pillaging,  or  how  ye  ca't,"  said  Cuddie, 
"  but  it  comes  natural  to  a  body,  and  it's  a  profitable  trade. 
Our  folk  had  tirled  the  dead  dragoons  as  bare  as  bawbees 
before  we  were  loose  amaist.  But  when  I  saw  the  Whigs  a'  weel 
yokit  by  the  lugs  to  Kettledrummle  and  the  other  chie  Id,  I 
set  off  at  the  lang  trot  on  my  ain  errand  and  your  honor's. 
Sae  I  took  up  the  syke  a  wee  bit,  away  to  the  right,  where  I 
saw  the  marks  o'  mony  a  horse-foot ;  and  sure  eneugh  I  cam 
to  a  place  where  there  had  been  some  clean  leatherin',  and  a' 
the  puir  chields  were  lying  there  buskit  wi'  their  claes  just 
as  they  had  put  them  on  that  morning — naebody  had  found 
out  that  pose  o'  carcages  ;  and  wha  suld  be  in  the  midst 
thereof,  as  my  mither  says,  but  our  auld  acquaintance.  Ser- 
geant Bothwell  ? " 


208  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Ay,  has  that  man  fallen  ?  "  said  Morton. 

'^  Troth  has  he/'  answered  Cuddle  ;  *'  and  his  een  were 
open  and  his  brow  brent,  and  his  teeth  clinched  thegither, 
like  the  jaws  of  a  trap  for  foumarts  when  the  springes  doun. 
I  was  amaist  feared  to  look  at  him  ;  however,  I  thought  to  hae 
turn  about  wi'  him,  and  sae  I  e'en  riped  his  pouches,  as  he 
had  dune  mony  an  honester  man's ;  and  here's  your  ain  siller 
again — or  your  uncle's,  which  is  the  same — that  he  got  at  Miln- 
wood  that  unlucky  night  that  made  us  a'  sodgers  thegither." 

''  There  can  be  no  harm.  Cuddle,"  said  Morton, ''  in  mak- 
ing use  of  this  money,  since  we  know  how  he  came  by  it ;  but 
you  must  divide  with  me." 

'^  Bide  a  wee — bide  a  wee,"  said  Cuddle.  '^Weel,  and 
there's  a  bit  ring  he  had  hinging  in  a  black  ribbon  doun  on 
his  breast — I  am  thinking  it  has  been  a  love-token,  puir  fal- 
low, there's  naebody  sae  rough  but  they  hae  aye  a  kind  heart 
to  the  lasses — and  there's  a  book  wi'  a  wheen  papers,  and  I 
got  twa  or  three  odd  things,  that  I'll  keep  to  mysell,  forbye.'^ 

^'  Upon  my  word,  you  have  made  a  very  successful  foray 
for  a  beginner,"  said  his  new  master. 

'^  Haena  I  e'en  now  ?  "  said  Cuddle,  with  great  exultation. 
'^  I  tauld  ye  I  wasna  that  dooms  stupid,  if  it  cam  to  lifting 
things.  And  forbye,  I  hae  gotten  twa  gude  horse.  A  feck- 
less loon  of  a  Straven  weaver,  that  has  left  his  loom  and  his 
bien  house  to  sit  skirling  on  a  cauld  hillside,  had  catched  twa 
dragoon  naigs,  and  he  could  neither  gar  them  hup  nor  wind, 
sae  he  took  a  gowd  noble  for  them  baith.  I  suld  hae  tried  him 
wi'  half  the  siller,  but  it's  an  unco  ill  place  to  get  change  in. 
Ye'll  find  the  siller's  missing  out  o'  Both  well's  purse." 

*^  You  have  made  a  most  excellent  and  useful  purchase. 
Cuddle  ;  but  what  is  that  portmanteau  ?  " 

"The  pockmantle  ?"  answered  Cuddle.  "It  was  Lord 
Evandale's  yesterday,  and  it's  yours  the  day.  I  fand  it  ahint 
the  bush  o'  broom  yonder ;  ilka  dog  has  if  8  day.  Ye  ken  what 
the  auld  sang  says, 

"  Take  turn  about,  mither,  quo'  Tarn  o'  the  Linn. 

And  speaking  o'  that,  I  maun  gang  and  see  about  my  mither, 
puir  auld  body,  if  your  honor  hasna  ony  immediate  com- 
mands." 

"  But,  Cuddle,"  said  Morton,  "  I  really  cannot  take  these 
things  from  you  without  some  recompense." 

"  Hout  fie,  stir,"  answered  Cuddie,  "  ye  suld  aye  be  tak- 
ing ;  for  recompense,  ye  may  think  about  that  some  other 


OLD  MORTALITY  809 

time ;  I  liae  seen  gay  weel  to  mysell  wi'  v^ome  things  that  fit 
me  better.  What  couid  I  do  \vi'  Lord  Evandale's  braw  claes? 
Sergeant  BothwelFs  will  serve  me  weel  eneugh/^ 

Not  being  able  to  prevail  on  the  self -constituted  and  dis- 
interested follower  to  accept  of  anything  for  himself  out  of 
these  warlike  spoils,  Morton  resolved  to  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  Lord  Evandale's  property,  supposing  him 
yet  to  be  alive  ;  and  in  the  meanwhile,  did  not  hesitate  to 
avail  himself  of  Ouddie's  prize,  so  far  as  to  appropriate  some 
changes  of  linen  and  other  trifling  articles  among  those  of  more 
value  which  the  portmanteau  contained. 

He  then  hastily  looked  over  the  papers  which  wei-e  found 
in  BothwelFs  pocketbook.  These  were  of  a  miscellaneous 
description.  The  roll  of  his  troop,  with  the  names  of  those 
absent  on  furlough,  memorandums  of  tavern  bills,  and  lists  of 
delinquents  who  might  be  made  subjects  of  fine  and  persecu- 
tion, first  presented  themselves,  along  with  a  copy  of  a  war- 
rant from  the  privy  council  to  arrest  certain  persons  of 
distinction  therein  named.  In  another  pocket  of  the  book 
were  one  or  two  commissions  which  Bothwell  had  held  at  dif- 
ferent times,  and  certificates  of  his  services  abroad,  in  which 
his  courage  and  military  talents  were  highly  praised.  But 
the  most  remarkable  paper  was  an  accurate  account  of  his 
genealogy,  with  reference  to  many  documents  for  establish- 
ment of  its  authenticity  ;  subjoined  was  a  list  of  the  ample 
possessions  of  the  forfeited  Earls  of  Bothwell,  and  a  particu- 
lar account  of  the  proportions  in  which  King  James  VI.  had 
bestowed  them  on  the  courtiers  and  nobility  by  whose  descend- 
ants they  were  at  present  actually  possessed  ;  beneath  this  list 
was  written,  in  red  letters,  in  the  hand  of  the  deceased,  Haud 
Immemor,  F.  S.  E.  B.,  the  initials  probeibly  intimating  Fran- 
cis Stewart,  Earl  of  Bothwell.  To  these  documents,  which 
strongly  painted  the  character  and  feelings  of  their  deceased 
proprietor,  were  added  some  which  showed  him  in  a  light 
greatly  different  from  that  in  which  we  have  hitherto  pre- 
sented him  to  the  reader. 

In  a  secret  pocket  of  the  book,  which  Morton  did  not  dis- 
cover without  some  trouble,  were  one  or  two  letters,  written 
in  a  beautiful  female  hand.  They  were  dated  about  twenty 
years  back,  bore  no  address,  and  were  subscribed  only  by 
initials.  Without  having  time  to  peruse  them  accurately, 
Morton  perceived  that  they  contained  the  elegant  yet  fond 
expressions  of  female  affection  directed  towards  an  object 
whose  jealousy  they  endeavored  to  soothe,  and  of  whose 
hasty,  suspicious,  and   impatient  temper  the  writer  seemed 


210  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gently  to  complain.  The  ink  of  these  manuscripts  had 
faded  by  time,  and,  notwithstanding  the  great  care  which  had 
obviously  been  taken  for  their  preservation,  they  were  in  one 
or  two  places  chafed  so  as  to  be  illegible. 

*'  It  matters  not,"  these  words  were  written  on  the  envelope 
of  that  which  had  suffered  most,  ^^  I  have  them  by  heart." 

With  these  letters  was  a  lock  of  hair  wrapped  in  a  copy 
of  verses,  written  obviously  with  a  feeling  which  atoned,  in 
Morton^s  opinion,  for  the  roughness  of  the  poetry,  and  the 
conceits  with  which  it  abounded,  according  to  the  taste  of 
the  period  : 

Thy  hue,  dear  pledge,  is  pure  and  bright, 
As  in  that  well-remember'd  night. 
When  first  thy  mystic  braid  was  wove, 
And  first  my  Agnes  whisper'd  love. 

Since  then,  how  often  hast  thou  press'd 
The  torrid  zone  of  this  wild  breast. 
Whose  wrath  and  hate  have  sworn  to  dwell 
With  the  first  sin  which  peopled  hell ; 
A  breast  whose  blood's  a  troubled  ocean. 
Each  throb  the  earthquake's  wild  commotion  I 
O,  if  such  clime  thou  canst  endure, 
Yet  keep  thy  hue  unstain'd  and  pure- 
What  conquest  o'er  each  erring  thought 
Of  that  fierce  realm  had  Agnes  wrought  I 
I  had  not  wander'd  wild  and  wide. 
With  such  an  angel  for  my  guide  ; 
Nor  heaven  nor  earth  could  then  reprove  mej 
If  she  had  lived,  and  lived  to  love  me. 

Not  then  this  world's  wild  joys  had  been 
To  me  one  savage  hunting-scene, 
My  sole  delight  the  headlong  race, 
And  frantic  hurry  of  the  chase. 
To  start,  pursue,  and  bring  to  bay, 
Rush  in,  drag  down,  and  rend  my  prey, 
Then  from  the  carcass  turn  away  ; 
Mine  ireful  mood  had  sweetness  tamed. 
And  soothed  each  wound  which  pride  inflamed ; — 
Yes,  God  and  man  might  now  approve  me, 
If  thou  hadst  lived,  and  lived  to  love  me  ! 

As  he  finished  reading  these  lines,  Morton  could  not  forbear 
reflecting  with  compassion  on  the  fate  of  this  singular  and 
most  unhappy  being,  who,  it  appeared,  while  in  the  lowest  state 
of  degradation,  and  almost  of  contempt,  had  his  recollections 
continually  fixed  on  the  high  station  to  which  his  birth  seemed 
to  entitle  him  ;  and,  while  plunged  in  gross  licentiousness, 
was  in  secret  looking  back  with  bitter  remorse  to  the  period  of 
his  youth,  during  which  he  had  nourished  a  virtuous,  though 
u?ifortuiiate^  attachment. 


OLD  MORTALITY  211 

''Alas  !  what  are  we/'  said  Morton,  '*  that  our  best  an(J 
most  praiseworthy  feelings  can  be  thus  debased  and  depraved ; 
that  honorable  pride  can  sink  into  haughty  and  desperate  in- 
difference for  general  opinion,  and  the  sorrow  of  blighted 
affection  inhabit  the  same  bosom  which  license,  revenge,  and 
rapine  have  chosen  for  their  citadel  ?  But  it  is  the  same  through- 
out; the  liberal  principles  of  one  man  sink  into  cold  and  un- 
feeling indifference,  the  religious  zeal  of  another  hurries  him 
into  frantic  and  savage  enthusiasm.  Our  resolutions,  our 
passions,  are  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and,  without  the  aid 
of  Him  who  formed  the  human  breast,  we  cannot  say  to  its 
tides,  'Thus  far  shall  ye  come,  and  no  farther/^' 

While  he  thus  moralized,  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  observed 
that  Burley  stood  before  him. 

' '  Already  awake  't "  said  that  leader.  "  It  is  well,  and  shows 
zeal  to  tread  the  path  before  you.  What  papers  are  these  ?  " 
he  continued. 

Morton  gave  him  some  brief  account  of  Cuddie's  successful 
marauding  party,  and  handed  him  the  pocketbook  of  Bothwell, 
with  its  contents.  The  Cameronian  leader  looked  with  some 
attention  on  such  of  the  papers  as  related  to  military  affairs  or 
public  business ;  but  when  he  came  to  the  verses  he  threw 
them  from  him  with  contempt. 

''I  little  thought,'"  he  said,  "  when,  by  the  blessing  of  God, 
I  passed  my  sword  three  times  through  the  body  of  that  arch 
tool  of  cruelty  and  persecution,  that  a  character  so  desperate 
and  so  dangerous  could  have  stooped  to  an  art  as  trifling  as  it 
is  profane.  But  I  see  that  Satan  can  blend  the  most  different 
qualities  in  his  well -beloved  and  chosen  agents,  and  that  the 
same  hand  which  can  wield  a  club  or  a  slaughter-weapon 
against  the  godly  in  the  valley  of  destruction  can  touch  a 
tinkling  lute  or  a  gittern,  to  soothe  the  ears  of  the  dancing 
daughters  of  perdition  in  their  Vanity  Fair.'' 

''Your  ideas  of  duty,  then,''  said  Morton,  "exclude  love 
of  the  fine  arts,  which  have  been  supposed  in  general  to  purify 
and  to  elevate  the  mind  ?" 

"  To  me,  young  man,"  answered  Burley,  "  and  to  those 
who  think  as  I  do,  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  under  whatever 
name  disguised,  are  vanity,  as  its  grandeur  and  power  are  a 
snare.  We  have  but  one  object  on  earth,  and  that  is  to  build 
up  the  temple  of  the  Lord."' 

"I  have  heard  my  father  observe,"  replied  Morton,  "  that 
many  who  assumed  power  in  the  name  of  Heaven  were  as  se- 
vere in  its  exercise,  and  as  unwilling  to  part  with  it,  as  if  they 
had  been  solely  moved  by  the  motives  of  worldly  ambition, — 


212  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  of  this  another  time.  Have  you  succeeded  in  obtaining  a 
committee  of  the  council  to  be  nominated  ? '' 

*'  I  have,"  answered  Burley.  "  The  number  is  limited  to 
six,  of  which  you  are  one,  and  I  come  to  call  you  to  their  de- 
liberations/' 

Morton  accompanied  him  to  a  sequestered  grass-plot,  where 
their  colleagues  awaited  them.  In  this  delegation  of  author- 
ity, the  two  principal  factions  which  divided  the  tumultuary 
army  had  each  taken  care  to  send  three  of  their  own  number. 
On  the  part  of  the  Cameronians  were  Burley,  Macbriar,  and 
Kettledrummle  ;  and  on  that  of  the  Moderate  party  Pound- 
text.  Henry  Morton,  and  a  small  proprietor,  called  the  Laird 
of  Langcale.  Thus  the  two  parties  were  equally  balanced  by 
their  representatives  in  the  committee  of  management,  al- 
though it  seemed  likely  that  those  of  the  most  violent  opinions 
were,  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  to  possess  and  exert  the  greater 
degree  of  energy.  Their  debate,  however,  was  conducted 
more  like  men  of  this  world  than  could  have  been  expected 
from  their  conduct  on  the  preceding  evening.  After  maturely 
considering  their  means  and  situation,  and  tlie  probable  in- 
crease of  their  numbers,  they  agreed  that  they  would  keep 
their  position  for  that  day,  in  order  to  refresh  their  men,  and 
give  time  to  reinforcements  to  join  them,  and  that,  on  the  next 
morning,  they  would  direct  their  march  towards  Tillietudlem, 
and  summon  that  stronghold,  as  they  expressed  it,  of  Malig- 
nancy. If  it  was  not  surrendered  to  their  summons,  they  re- 
solved to  try  the  eifect  of  a  brisk  assault ;  and  should  that 
miscarry,  it  was  settled  that  they  should  leave  a  part  of  their 
number  to  blockade  the  place,  and  reduce  it,  if  possible,  by 
famine,  while  their  mam  body  should  march  forward  to  drive 
Claverhouse  and  Lord  Ross  from  the  town  of  Glasgow.  Such 
was  the  determination  of  the  council  of  management ;  and 
thus  Morton's  first  enterprise  in  active  life  was  likely  to  be 
the  attack  of  a  castle  belonging  to  the  parent  of  his  mistress, 
and  defended  by  her  relative.  Major  Bellenden,  to  whom  he 
personally  owed  many  obligations  !  He  felt  fully  the  embar- 
rassment of  his  situation,  yet  consoled  himself  with  the  reflec- 
tion that  his  newly  acquired  power  in  the  insurgent  army 
would  give  him,  at  all  events,  the  means  of  extending  to  the 
inmates  of  Tillietudlem  a  protection  which  no  other  circum- 
stance could  have  afforded  them  ;  and  he  was  not  without 
hope  that  he  might  be  able  to  mediate  such  an  accommoda- 
tion betwixt  them  and  the  Presbyterian  army  as  should  secure 
them  a  safe  neutrality  during  the  war  which  was  about  to 
ensue. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

There  came  a  knight  from  the  field  of  slain. 
His  steed  was  drench'd  in  blood  and  rain. 

FiNLAY. 

We  must  now  return  to  the  fortress  of  Tillietudlem  and  its 
inhabitants.  The  morning,  being  the  first  after  the  battle  of 
Loudon  Hill,  had  dawned  upon  its  battlements,  and  the  de- 
fenders had  already  resumed  the  labors  by  which  they  pro- 
posed to  render  the  place  tenable,  when  the  watch itnan,  who 
was  placed  in  a  high  turret,  called  the  Warder's  Tcwer,  gave 
the  signal  that  a  horseman  was  approaching.  A?  he  came 
nearer,  his  dress  indicated  an  officer  of  the  Life  Guards ;  and 
the  slowness  of  his  horse's  pace,  as  well  as  the  manner  in 
which  the  rider  stooped  on  the  saddle-bow,  plainly  showed 
that  he  was  sick  or  wounded.  The  wicket  was  instantly 
opened  to  receive  him,  and  Lord  Evandale  rode  into  the  court- 
yard, so  reduced  by  loss  of  blood  that  he  was  unable  to  dis- 
mount without  assistance.  As  he  entered  the  haJi,  leaning 
upon  a  servant,  the  ladies  shrieked  with  surprise  and  terror ; 
for,  pale  as  death,  stained  with  blood,  his  regimentals  soiled 
and  torn,  and  his  hair  matted  and  disordered,  he  ^-esembled 
rather  a  spectre  than  a  human  being.  But  thei>*  next  ex- 
clamation was  that  of  joy  at  his  escape. 

''Thank  God  ! "  exclaimed  Lady  Margaret, ''  that  you  are 
here,  and  have  escaped  the  hands  of  the  bloodthirsty  murder- 
ers who  have  cut  off  so  many  of  the  king's  loyal  servants  ! " 

''Thank  God  !"  added  Edith,  "that  you  are  here  and  in 
safety  !  We  have  dreaded  the  worst.  But  you  are  wounded, 
and  I  fear  we  have  little  the  means  of  assisting  you." 

"My  wounds  are  only  sword-cuts,"  answered  the  young 
nobleman,  as  he  reposed  himself  on  a  seat ;  "the  pam  is  not 
worth  mentioning,  and  I  should  not  even  feel  exhausted  but 
for  the  loss  of  blood.  But  it  was  not  my  purpose  to  bring 
my  weakness  to  add  to  your  danger  and  distress,  but  to  re- 
lieve them,  if  possible.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Permit 
me,"  he  added,  addressing  Lady  Margaret — "  permit  mp.  to 
think  and  act  as  your  son,  my  dear  madam — as  vour  brother. 
Edith!" 


214  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

He  prononnced  the  last  part  of  the  sentence  with  some 
emphasis,  as  if  he  feared  that  tlie  apprehension  of  his  pre- 
tensions as  a  suitor  might  render  his  proffered  services  un- 
acceptable to  Miss  Bellenden.  She  was  not  insensible  to  his 
delicacy,  but  there  was  no  time  for  exchange  of  senti- 
ments. 

*' We  are  preparing  for  our  defence,"  said  the  old  lady, 
with  great  dignity ;  "  my  brother  has  taken  charge  of  our 
garrison,  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  we  will  give  the  rebels 
such  a  reception  as  they  deserve/' 

"  How  gladly,"  said  Evandale,  ^'  would  I  share  in  the  de- 
fence of  the  Castle  !  But  in  my  present  state  I  should  be  but 
a  burden  to  you  ;  nay,  something  worse,  for  the  knowledge 
that  an  officer  of  the  Life  Guards  was  in  the  Castle  would  be 
sufficient  to  make  these  rogues  more  desperately  earnest  to 
possess  themselves  of  it.  If  they  find  it  defended  only  by 
the  family,  they  may  possibly  march  on  to  Glasgow  rather 
than  hazard  an  assault." 

'^  And  can  you  think  so  meanly  of  us,  my  lord,"  said 
Edith,  with  the  generous  burst  of  feeling  which  woman  so 
often  evinces,  and  which  becomes  her  so  well,  her  voice  fal- 
tering through  eagerness,  and  her  brow  coloring  with  the 
noble  warmth  which  dictated  her  language — ^'  can  you  thinK 
so  meanly  of  your  friends,  as  that  they  would  permit  such 
considerations  to  interfere  with  their  sheltering'  and  protect- 
ing you  at  a  moment  when  you  are  unable  to  defend  yourself, 
and  when  the  whole  country  is  filled  with  the  enemy  ?  Is 
there  a  cottage  in  Scotland  whose  owners  would  permit  a 
valued  friend  to  leave  it  in  such  circumstances  ?  And  can 
you  think  we  will  allow  you  to  go  from  a  castle  which  we 
hold  to  be  strong  enough  for  our  own  defence  ?  " 

'^  Lord  Evandale  need  never  think  of  it,"  said  Lady  Mar- 
garet. "  I  will  dress  his  wounds  myself  ;  it  is  all  an  old 
wife  is  fit  for  in  war  time  ;  but  to  quit  the  Castle  of  Tillie- 
tudlem  when  the  sword  of  the  enemy  is  drawn  to  slay  him — 
the  meanest  trooper  that  ever  wore  the  king's  coat  on  his 
back  should  not  do  so,  much  less  my  young  Lord  Evandale. 
Ours  is  not  a  house  that  ought  to  brook  such  dishonor.  The 
Tower  of  Tillietudlem  has  been  too  much  distinguished  by 
the  visit  of  his  most  sacred " 

Here  she  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  the  Major. 

'*  We  have  taken  a  prisoner,  my  dear  uncle,"  said  Edith — 
**  a  wounded  prisoner,  and  he  wants  to  escape  from  us>  Yon 
must  help  us  to  keep  him  by  force." 

''  Lord  Evandale  ! "  exclaimed  the  veteran.     "  I  am  as 


I 


OLD  MORTALITY  215 

imich  pleased  as  when  I  got  my  first  commission.  Claver- 
house  reported  you  were  killed,  or  missing  at  least." 

^'  I  should  have  been  slain  but  for  a  friend  of  yours/'  said 
Lord  Evandale,  speaking  with  some  emotion,  and  bending  his 
eyes  on  the  ground,  as  if  he  wished  to  avoid  seeing  the  im- 
pression that  what  he  was  about  to  say  would  make  upon  Miss 
Bellenden.  *^  I  was  unhorsed  and  defenceless,  and  the  sword 
raised  to  despatch  me,  when  young  Air.  Morton,  the  prisoner 
for  whom  you  interested  yourself  yesterday  morning,  inter- 
posed in  the  most  generous  manner,  preserved  my  life,  and 
furnished  me  with  the  means  of  escaping." 

As  he  ended  the  sentence,  a  painful  curiosity  overcame  his 
first  resolution  ;  he  raised  his  eyes  to  Edith's  face,  and  imag- 
ined he  could  read,  in  the  glow  of  her  cheek  and  the  sparkle 
of  her  eye,  Joy  at  hearing  of  her  lover's  safety  and  freedom, 
and  triumph  at  his  not  having  been  left  last  in  the  race  of 
generosity.  Such,  indeed,  were  her  feelings ;  but  they  were 
also  mingled  with  admiration  of  the  ready  frankness  with  which 
Lord  Evandale  had  hastened  to  bear  witness  to  the  merit  of  a 
favored  rival,  and  to  acknowledge  an  obligation  which,  in  all 
probability,  he  would  rather  have  owed  to  any  other  individual 
in  the  world. 

Major  Bellenden,  who  would  never  have  observed  the  emo- 
tions of  either  party,  even  had  they  been  much  more  mark- 
edly expressed,  contented  himself  with  saying,  *^  Since  Henry 
Morton  has  influence  with  these  rascals,  I  am  glad  he  has  so 
exerted  it ;  but  I  hope  he  will  get  clear  of  them  as  soon  as  he 
can.  Indeed,  I  cannot  doubt  it.  I  know  his  principles,  and 
that  he  detests  their  cant  and  hypocrisy.  I  have  heard  him 
laugh  a  thousand  times  at  the  pedantry  of  that  old  Presby- 
terian scoundrel,  Poundtext,  who,  after  enjoying  the  Indul- 
gence of  the  government  for  so  many  years,  has  now,  upon  the 
very  first  ruffle,  shown  himself  in  his  own  proper  colors,  and 
set  off,  with  three  parts  of  his  crop-eared  congregation,  to  join 
the  host  of  the  fanatics.  But  how  did  you  escape  after  leav- 
ing the  field,  my  lord  t" 

'^I  rode  for  my  life,  as  a  recreant  knight  must,"  answered 
Lord  Evandale,  smiling.  '*  I  took  the  route  where  I  thought 
I  had  least  chance  of  meeting  with  any  of  the  enemy,  and  I 
found  shelter  for  several  hours — you  will  hardly  guess  where." 

"  At  Castle  Bracklan,  perhaps,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  **  or 
in  the  house  of  some  other  loyal  gentleman  ?  " 

"  No,  madam.  I  was  repulsed,  under  one  mean  pretext  or 
another,  from  more  than  one  house  of  that  description,  for 
fear  of  the  enemy  following  my  traces  ;  but  I  found  refuge  in 


216  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  cottage  of  a  poor  widow  whose  husband  had  been  shot 
within  these  three  months  by  a  party  of  our  corps,  and  whose 
two  sons  are  at  this  very  moment  with  the  insurgents/^ 

'^  Indeed  ! "  said  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  ;  '^  and  was  a 
fanatic  woman  capable  of  such  generosity  ?    But  she  disap- 
^.^roved,  I  suppose,  of  the  tenets  of  her  family  ?  " 
i  "  Far  from  it,  madam, ^^  continued  the  young  nobleman  j 

/  '^  she  was  in  principle  a  rigid  recusant,  but  she  saw  my  danger 
/  and  distress,  considered  me  as  a  fellow-creature,  and  forgot 
L^  that  I  was  a  Cavalier  and  a  soldier.  She  bound  my  wounds, 
and  permitted  me  to  rest  upon  her  bed,  concealed  me  from  a 
party  of  the  insurgents  who  were  seeking  for  stragglers,  sup- 
plied me  with  food,  and  did  not  suffer  me  to  leave  my  place 
of  refuge  until  she  had  learned  that  I  had  every  chance  of 
getting  to  this  tower  without  danger." 

*^It  was  nobly  done,"  said  Miss  Bellenden  ;  ''and  I  trust 
you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  rewarding  her  generosity." 

''I  am  running  up  an  arrear  of  obligation  on  all  sides. 
Miss  Bellenden,  during  these  unfortunate  occurrences,"  re- 
plied Lord  Evandale  ;  ''  but  when  I  can  attain  the  means  of 
showing  my  gratitude,  the  will  shall  not  be  wanting." 

All  now  joined  in  pressing  Lord  Evandale  to  relinquish 
his  intention  of  leaving  the  Castle  ;  but  the  argument  of  Major 
Bellenden  proved  the  most  effectual. 

"  Your  presence  in  the  Castle  will  be  most  useful,  if  not 
absolutely  necessary,  my  lord,  in  order  to  maintain,  by  your 
authority,  proper  discipline  among  the  fellows  whom  Claver- 
house  has  left  in  garrison  here,  and  who  do  not  prove  to  be  of 
the  most  orderly  description  of  inmates  ;  and,  indeed,  we  have 
the  Colonel's  authority,  for  that  very  purpose,  to  detain  any 
officer  of  his  regiment  who  might  pass  this  way." 

''That,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "is  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment, since  it  shows  me  that  my  residence  here  may  be  useful, 
even  in  my  present  disabled  state." 

"  For  your  wounds,  my  lord,"  said  the  Major,  "  if  my  sister. 
Lady  Bellenden,  will  undertake  to  give  battle  to  any  feverish 
symptom,  if  such  should  appear,  I  will  answer  that  my  old 
campaigner,  Gideon  Pike,  shall  dress  a  flesh-wound  with  any  of 
the  incorporation  of  barber-surgeons.  He  had  enough  of 
practice  in  Montrose's  time,  for  we  had  few  regularly  bred 
army  chirurgeons,  as  you  may  well  suppose.  You  agree  \o 
stay  with  us,  then  ?  " 

"  My  reasons  for  leaving  the  Castle,"  said  Lord  Evandale, 
glancing  a  look  towards  Edith,  "  though  they  evidently  seemed 
weighty,  must  needs  give  way  to  those  which  infer  the  power  of 


OLD  MORTALITY  217 

serving  yon.  May  I  presume.  Major,  to  inquire  into  the  means 
and  plan  of  defence  which  you  have  prepared  ?  or  can  I  at- 
tend you  to  examine  the  works  ?  " 

It  did  not  escape  Miss  Bellenden  that  Lord  Evandale  seemed 
much  exhausted  both  in  body  and  mind.  ''  I  think,  sir/'  she 
said,  addressing  the  Major,  ^'^that  since  Lord  Evandale  con- 
descends to  become  an  officer  of  our  garrison,  you  should  begin 
by  rendering  him  amenable  to  your  authority,  and  ordering 
him  to  his  apartment,  that  he  may  take  some  refreshment  ere 
he  enters  on  military  discussions.'' 

'^  Edith  is  right,"  said  the  old  lady ;  ''  you  must  go  instantly 
to  bed,  my  lord,  and  take  some  febrifuge,  which  I  will  prepare 
with  my  own  hand  ;  and  my  lady-in-waiting.  Mistress  Martha 
Weddell,  shall  make  some  friar's  chicken,  or  something  very 
light.  I  would  not  advise  wine.  John  Gudyill,  let  the  house- 
keeper make  ready  the  chamber  of  dais.  Lord  Evandale  must 
lie  down  instantly.  Pike  will  take  off  the  dressings  and  ex- 
amine the  state  of  the  wounds. " 

"  These  are  melancholy  preparations,  madam,"  said  Lord 
Evandale,   as  he  returned  thanks  to  Lady  Margaret,  and  was 
about  to  leave  the  hall  ;  '^  but  I  must  submit  to  your  ladyship's 
directions,  and  I  trust  that  your  skill  will  soon  make  me  a 
more  able  defender  of  your  castle  than  I  am  at  present.     You 
must  render  my  body  serviceable  as  soon  as  you  can,  for  yon 
have  no  use  for  my  head  while  you  have  Major  Bellenden." 
With  these  words  he  left  the  apartment. 
'^  An  excellent  young  man,  and  a  modest,"  said  the  Major. 
'^None  of  that  conceit,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "that  often 
makes  young  folk  suppose  they  know  better  how  their  com- 
plaints should  be  treated  than  people  that  have  had  expe- 
rience." 

"  And  so  generous  and  handsome  a  young  nobleman,"  said 
Jenny  Dennison,  who  had  entered  during  the  latter  part  of  this 
conversation,  and  was  now  left  alone  with  her  mistress  in  the 
hall,  the  Major  returning  to  his  military  cares,  and  Lady  Mar- 
garet to  her  medical  preparations. 

Edith  only  answered  these  encomiums  with  a  sigh  ;  but, 
although  silent,  she  felt  and  knew  better  than  any  one  how 
much  they  were  merited  by  the  person  on  whom  they  were 
bestowed. 

Jenny,  however,  failed  not  to  follow  up  her  blow.  ''  After 
a',  it's  true  that  my  leddy  says,  there's  nae  trusting  a  Presby- 
terian ;  they  are  a'  faithless  man  sworn  louns.  Wha  wad 
hae  thought  that  younsf  Milnwood  and  Cuddie  Headrigg  wad 
hae  taen  on  wi'  thae  rebel  blackguards  f  " 


818  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

**  What  do  you  mean  by  such  improbable  nonsense,  Jenny  ?  * 
said  her  young  mistress,  very  much  displeased. 

*'  I  ken  if s  no  pleasing  for  you  to  hear,  madam,''  an- 
swered Jenny,  hardily,  '^and  it's  as  little  pleasant  for  me  to 
tell ;  but  as  gude  ye  suld  ken  a'  about  it  sune  as  syne,  for  the 
haill  Castle's  ringing  wi't." 

*^  Ringing  with  what,  Jenny  ?  Have  you  a  mind  to  drive 
me  mad  ?  "  answered  Edith,  impatiently. 

"  Just  that  Henry  Morton  of  Milnwood  is  out  wi'  the 
rebels,  and  ane  o'  their  chief  leaders." 

"  It  is  a  falsehood  !  "  said  Edith — "a  most  base  calumny! 
and  you  are  very  bold  to  dare  to  repeat  it  to  me.  Henry  Morton 
is  incapable  of  such  treachery  to  his  king  and  country,  such 
cruelty  to  me — to — to  all  the  innocent  and  defenceless  victims, 
I  mean — who  must  suffer  in  a  civil  war  ;  I  tell  you  he  is 
utterly  incapable  of  it,  in  every  sense." 

"  Dear  !  dear  !  Miss  Edith,"  replied  Jenny,  still  constant 
to  her  text,  '^  they  maun  be  better  acquainted  wi'  young  men 
than  I  am,  or  ever  wish  to*  be,  that  can  tell  preceesely  what 
they're  capable  or  no  capable  o'.  But  there  has  been  Trooper 
Tarn  and  another  chield  out  in  bonnets  and  gray  plaids,  like 
countrymen,  to  recon — reconnoitre,  I  think  John  Uudyill 
ca'd  it ;  and  they  hae  been  amang  the  rebels,  and  brought 
back  word  that  they  had  seen  young  Milnwood  mounted  on 
ane  o'  the  dragoon  horses  that  was  taen  at  Loudon  Hill, 
armed  wi'  swords  and  pistols,  like  wha  but  him,  and  hand 
and  glove  wi'  the  foremost  o'  them,  and  dreeling  and  com- 
manding the  men  ;  and  Cuddie  at  the  heels  o'  him,  in  ane  o' 
Sergeant  Both  well's  laced  waistcoats,  and  a  cockit  hat  with  a 
bab  o'  blue  ribbands  at  it  for  the  auld  cause  o'  the  Cov- 
enant— but  Cuddie  aye  liked  a  blue  ribband — and  a  ruffled 
sark,  like  ony  lord  o'  the  land  ;  it  sets  the  like  o'  him,  in- 
deed!" 

''Jenny,"  said  her  young  mistress,  hastily,  ''it  is  im- 
possible these  men's  report  can  be  true ;  my  uncle  has  heard 
nothing  of  it  at  this  instant." 

"  Because  Tam  Halliday,"  answered  the  handmaiden, 
"  came  in  just  five  minutes  after  Lord  Evandale  ;  and  when 
he  heard  his  lordship  was  in  the  Castle,  he  swore — the  profane 
loon  ! — he  would  be  d — d  ere  he  would  make  the  report,  as  he 
ca'd  it,  of  his  news  to  Major  Bellenden,  since  there  was  an 
officer  of  his  ain  regiment  in  the  garrison.  Sae  he  wad  have 
said  naething  till  Lord  Evandale  wakened  the  next  morning  ; 
only  he  tauld  me  about  it  [here  Jenny  looked  a  little  downj.. 
just  to  vex  me  about  Cuddie." 


OLD  MORTALITY  21% 

"  Poh,  you  silly  girl/'  said  Edith,  assnming  some  courage, 
*'  it  is  all  a  trick  of  that  fellow  to  teaze  you/' 

''  Na,  madam,  itcanna  be  that,  for  John  Gudyill  took  the 
other  dragoon — he's  an  auld  hard-favored  man,  I  wotna  his 
name — into  the  cellar,  and  gae  him  a  tass  o'  brandy  to  get  the 
news  out  o'  him,  and  he  said  Just  the  same  as  Tam  Halliday, 
word  for  word  ;  and  Mr.  Gudyill  was  in  sic  a  rage  that  he 
tauld  it  a'  ower  again  to  us,  and  says  the  haill  rebellion  is  ow- 
ing to  the  nonsense  o'  my  leddy  and  the  Major,  and  Lord 
Evandale,  that  begged  off  young  Milnwood  and  Cuddie  yester- 
day morning,  for  that,  if  they  had  suffered,  the  country  wad 
hae  been  quiet ;  and  troth  I  am  muckle  o'  that  opinion  my- 
sell." 

This  last  commentary  Jenny  added  to  her  tale,  in  resent- 
ment of  her  mistress's  extreme  and  obstinate  incredulity.  She 
was  instantly  alarmed,  however,  by  the  effect  which  her  news 
produced  upon  her  young  lady,  an  effect  rendered  doubly 
violent  by  the  High  Church  principles  and  prejudices  in 
which  Miss  Bellenden  had  been  educated.  Her  complexion 
became  as  pale  as  a  corpse,  her  respiration  so  difficult  that  it 
was  on  the  point  of  altogether  failing  her,  and  her  limbs  so 
incapable  of  supporting  her  that  she  sunk,  rather  than  sat, 
down. upon  one  of  the  seats  in  the  hall,  and  seemed  on  the 
eve  of  fainting.  Jenny  tried  cold  water,  burnt  feathers, 
cutting  of  laces,  and  all  other  remedies  usual  in  hysterical 
cases,  but  without  any  immediate  effect. 

'^  God  forgie  me  !  what  hae  I  done  ?"  said  the  repentant 
fille-de-chambre.  "I  wish  my  tongue  had  been  cuttit  out  ! 
Wha  wad  hae  thought  o'  her  taking  on  that  way,  and  a'  for  a 
young  lad  ?  0,  Miss  Edith — dear  Miss  Edith,  baud  your 
heart  up  about  it ;  it's  maybe  no  true  for  a'  that  I  hae  said. 
0,  I  wish  my  mouth  had  been  blistered  !  A'body  tells  me  my 
tongue  will  do  me  a  mischief  some  day.  What  if  my  leddy 
comes  ?  or  the  Major  ?  and  she's  sitting  in  the  throne,  too, 
that  naebody  has  sat  in  since  that  weary  morning  the  King 
was  here  !     0,  what  will  I  do  ?     0,  what  will  become  o'  us  ?  " 

While  Jenny  Dennison  thus  lamented  herself  and  her 
mistress,  Edith  slowly  returned  from  the  paroxysm  into  which 
she  had  been  thrown  by  this  unexpected  intelligence. 

'^If  he  had  been  unfortunate,"  she  said,  "I  never  would 
have  deserted  him.  I  never  did  so,  even  when  there  was 
danger  and  disgrace  in  pleading  his  cause.  If  he  had  died, 
I  would  have  mourned  him  ;  if  he  had  been  unfaithful,  I 
would  have  forgiven  him  ;  but  a  rebel  to  his  king,  a  traitor 
to  his  country,  the  associate  and  colleague  of  cutthroats  and 


230  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

common,  stabbers,  the  persecutor  of  all  that  is  noble,  the  pro- 
fessed and  blasphemous  enemy  of  all  that  is  sacred, — I  will 
tear  him  from  my  heart,  if  my  life-blood  should  ebb  in  the 
effort!^' 

She  wiped  her  eyes  and  rose  hastily  from  the  great  chair 
(or  throne,  as  Lady  Margaret  used  to  call  i*t),  while  the  terri- 
fied damsel  hastened  to  shake  up  the  cushion,  and  efface  the 
appearance  of  any  one  having  occupied  that  sacred  seat ; 
although  King  Charles  himself,  considering  the  youth  and 
beauty  as  well  as  the  affliction  of  the  momentary  usurper  of 
his  hallowed  chair,  would  probably  have  thought  very  little  of 
the  profanation.  She  then  hastened  officiously  to  press  her 
support  on  Edith,  as  she  paced  the  hall  apparently  in  deep 
meditation. 

"  Tak  my  arm,  madam — better  just  tak  my  arm ;  sorrow 
maun  hae  its  vent,  and  doubtless '' 

''^Oy  Jenny, ^'  said  Edith,  with  firmness,  *^'you  have  seen 
my  weakness,  and  you  shall  see  my  strength." 

**^  But  ye  leaned  on  me  the  other  morning.  Miss  Edith, 
when  ye  were  sae  sair  grieved." 

*^  Misplaced  and  erring  affection  may  require  support, 
Jenny ;  duty  can  support  itself, — yet  I  will  do  nothing  rashly. 
I  will  be  aware  of  the  reasons  of  his  conduct,  and  thenj— cast 
him  off  forever,"  was  the  firm  and  determined  answer  of  her 
young  lady. 

Overawed  by  a  manner  of  which  she  could  neither  conceive 
the  motive  nor  estimate  the  merit,  Jenny  muttered  between 
her  teeth,  "  Odd,  when  the  first  flight's  ower.  Miss  Edith  taks 
it  as  easy  as  I  do,  and  muckle  easier,  and  Fm  sure  I  ne'er 
cared  half  sae  muckle  about  Cuddie  Headrigg  as  she  did  about 
young  Milnwood.  Forbye  that,  it's  maybe  as  weel  to  hae  a 
friend  on  baith  sides  ;  for,  if  the  Whigs  suld  come  to  tak  the 
Castle,  as  it's  like  they  may,  when  there's  sae  little  victual, 
and  the  dragoons  wasting  what's  o't,  ou,  in  that  case,  Miln- 
wood and  Cuddie  wad  hae  the  upper  hand,  and  their  freend- 
ship  wad  be  worth  siller  ;  I  was  thinking  sae  this  morning  or 
I  heard  the  news." 

With  this  consolatory  reflection  the  damsel  went  about  her 
usual  occupations,  leaving  her  mistress  to  school  her  mind  as 
she  best  might,  for  eradicating  the  sentimente  which  she  had 
hitherto  entertained  towards  Henry  Morton. 


CHAPTEK  XXV 

Once  more  into  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more  I 

Henry  V. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day,  all  the  information  which  they 
could  procure  led  them  to  expect  that  the  insurgent  army 
would  be  with  early  dawn  on  their  march  against  Tillietud- 
lem.  Lord  Evandale^'s  wounds  had  been  examined  by  Pike, 
who  reported  them  in  a  very  promising  state.  They  were 
numerous,  but  none  of  any  consequence  ;  and  the  loss  of 
blood,  as  much  perhaps  as  the  boasted  specific  of  Lady  Mar- 
garet, had  prevented  any  tendency  to  fever  ;  so  that,  not- 
withstanding he  felt  some  pain  and  great  weakness,  the  pa- 
tient maintained  that  he  was  able  to  creep  about  with  the 
assistance  of  a  stick.  In  these  circumstances,  he  refused  to  be 
confined  to  his  apartment,  both  that  he  might  encourage  the 
soldiers  by  liis  presence,  and  suggest  any  necessary  addition 
to  the  plan  of  defence,  which  the  Major  might  be  supposed  to 
have  arranged  upon  something  of  an  antiquated  fashion  of 
warfare.  Lord  Evandale  was  well  qualified  to  give  advice  on 
such  subjects,  having  served,  during  his  early  youth,  both  in 
France  and  in  the  Low  Countries.  There  was  little  or  no  oc- 
casion, however,  for  altering  the  preparations  already  made  ; 
and,  excepting  on  the  article  of  provisions,  there  seemed  no 
reason  to  fear  for  the  defence  of  so  strong  a  place  against  such 
assailants  as  those  by  whom  it  was  threatened. 

With  the  peep  of  day.  Lord  Evandale  and  Major  Bellenden 
were  on  the  battlements  again,  viewing  and  re- viewing  the  state 
of  their  preparations,  and  anxiously  expecting  the  approach 
of  the  enemy.  I  ought  to  observe,  that  the  reporc  of  the  spies 
had  now  been  regularly  made  and  received  ;  but  the  Major 
treated  the  report  that  Morton  was  in  arms  against  the  govern- 
ment with  the  most  scornful  incredulity. 

'*I  know  the  lad  better,"  was  the  only  reply  he  deigned  to 
make  ;  "  the  fellows  have  not  dared  to  venture  near  enough, 
and  have  been  deceived  by  some  fanciful  resemblance,  or  have 
picked  up  some  story." 

"  I  differ  from  you.  Major,"  answered  Lord  Evandale ;  "  I 


222  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

think  yon  will  see  that  young  gentleman  at  the  head  of  the 
insurgents  ;  and,  though  I  shall  be  heartily  sorry  for  it,  I  shall 
not  be  greatly  surprised/' 

''  You  are  as  bad  as  Claverhouse,''  said  the  Major,  "  who 
contended  yesterday  morning  down  my  .very  throat  that  this 
young  fellow,  who  is  as  high-spirited  and  gentlemanlike  a 
boy  as  I  have  ever  known,  wanted  but  an  opportunity  to  place 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebels/' 

"And  considering  the  usage  which  he  has  received,  and 
the  suspicions  under  which  he  lies,''  said  Lord  Evandale, 
"  what  other  course  is  open  to  him  ?  For  my  own  part,  I 
should  hardly  know  whether  he  deserved  most  blame  or  pity." 

''Blame,  my  lord  !  pity  ?"  echoed  the  Major,  astonished 
at  hearing  such  sentiments.  "He  would  deserve  to  be 
hanged,  that's  all ;  and  were  he  my  own  son,  I  should  see 
him  strung  up  with  pleasure.  Blame,  indeed  !  But  your 
lordship  cannot  think  as  you  are  pleased  to  speak  ?  " 

"I  give  you  my  honor.  Major  Bellenden,  that  I  have  been 
for  some  time  of  opinion  that  our  politicians  and  prelates  have 
driven  matters  to  a  painful  extremity  in  this  country,  and 
have  alienated,  by  violence  of  various  kinds,  not  only  the 
lower  classes,  but  all  those  in  the  upper  ranks  whom  strong 
party  feeling  or  a  desire  of  court  interest  does  not  attach  to 
their  standard." 

"  I  am  no  politician,"  answered  the  Major,  "and  I  do  not 
understand  nice  distinctions.  My  sword  is  the  king's,  and 
when  he  commands,  I  draw  it  in  his  cause." 

"  I  trust,"  replied  the  young  lord,  "you  will  not  find  me 
more  backward  than  yourself,  though  I  heartily  wish  that 
the  enemy  were  foreigners.  It  is,  however,  no  time  to  de- 
bate that  matter,  for  yonder  they  come,  and  we  must  defend 
ourselves  as  well  as  we  can." 

As  Lord  Evandale  spoke,  the  van  of  the  insurgents  began 
to  make  their  appearance  on  the  road  which  crossed  the  top 
of  the  hill,  and  thence  descended  opposite  to  the  Tower. 
They  did  not,  however,  move  downwards,  as  if  aware  that,  in 
doing  so,  their  columns  would  be  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the 
artillery  of  the  place.  But  their  numbers,  which  at  first 
seemed  few,  appeared  presently  so  to  deepen  and  concentrate 
themselves  that,  judging  of  the  masses  which  occupied  the 
road  behind  the  hill  from  the  closeness  of  the  front  which 
they  presented  on  the  top  of  it,  their  force  appeared  very 
considerable.  There  was  a  pause  of  anxiety  on  both  sides ; 
and,  while  the  unsteady  ranks  of  the  Covenanters  were  agi- 
tated, as  if  by  pressure  behind  or  uncertainty  as  to  their  next 


OLD  MORTALITY  223 

movement,  their  arms,  picturesque  from  their  variety,  glanced 
in  the  morning  sun,  whose  beams  were  reflected  from  a  grove 
of  pikes,  muskets,  halberds,  and  battle-axes.  The  armed 
mass  occupied,  for  a  few  minutes,  this  fluctuating  position, 
until  three  or  four  horsemen,  who  seemed  to  be  leaders,  ad- 
vanced from  the  front,  and  occupied  the  height  a  little  nearer 
to  the  Castle.  John  Gudyill,  who  was  not  without  some  skill 
as  an  artilleryman,  brought  a  gun  to  bear  on  this  detached 
group. 

"  V\\  flee  the  falcon  [so  the  small  cannon  was  called] — Fll 
flee  the  falcon  whene'er  your  honor  gies  command ;  my  certie, 
she'll  ruffle  their  feathers  for  them  !  " 

The  Major  looked  at  Lord  Evandale. 

'*  Stay  a  moment,''  said  the  young  nobleman,  '*  they  send 
us  a  flag  of  truce." 

In  fact,  one  of  the  horsemen  at  that  moment  dismounted, 
and,  displaying  a  white  cloth  on  a  pike,  moved  forward  to- 
wards the  Tower,  while  the  Major  and  Lord  Evandale,  de- 
scending from  the  battlement  of  the  main  fortress,  advanced 
to  meet  him  as  far  as  the  barricade,  judging  it  unwise  to  ad- 
mit him  within  the  precincts  which  they  designed  to  defend. 
At  the  same  time  that  the  ambassador  set  forth,  the  group  of 
horsemen,  as  if  they  had  anticipated  the  preparations  of  John 
Gudyill  for  their  annoyance,  withdrew  from  the  advanced 
station  which  they  had  occupied,  and  fell  back  to  the  main 
body. 

The  envoy  of  the  Covenanters,  to  judge  by  his  mien  and 
manner,  seemed  fully  imbued  with  that  spiritual  pride  which 
distinguished  his  sect.  His  features  were  drawn  up  to  a  con- 
temptuous i^rimness,  and  his  half-shut  eyes  seemed  to  scorn 
to  look  upon  the  terrestrial  objects  around,  while,  at  every 
solemn  stride,  his  toes  were  pointed  outwards  with  an  air  that 
appeared  to  despise  the  ground  on  which  they  trod. 

Lord  Evandale  could  not  suppress  a  smile  at  this  singular 
figure.  ^' Did  you  ever,"  said  he  to  Major  Bellenden,  *'see 
such  an  absurd  automaton  ?  One  would  swear  it  moves 
upon  springs.     Can  it  speak,  think  you  ?  " 

"  0,  ay,"  said  the  Major  ;  ''that  seems  to  be  one  of  my 
old  acquaintance,  a  genuine  Puritan  of  the  right  pharisaical 
leaven.  Stay,  he  coughs  and  hems  ;  he  is  about  to  summon 
the  Castle  with  the  butt-end  of  a  sermon  instead  of  a  parley 
on  the  trumpet." 

The  veteran,  who  in  his  day  had  had  many  an  opportunity 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  manners  of  these  religionists, 
was  not  far  mistaken  in  his  conjecture ;  only  that  instead  of 


2U  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  prose  exordium,  the  Laird  of  Langcale — for  it  was  no  less  a 
personage — uplifted,  with  a  stentorian  voice,  a  verse  of  the 
twenty-fourth  Psalm : 

"  Ye  gates  lift  up  your  heads  !  ye  doors, 
Doors  that  do  last  for  aye, 
Be  lifted  up " 

''I  told  you  so,"  said  the  Major  to  Evandale,  and  then 
presented  himself  at  the  entrance  of  the  barricade,  demand- 
ing  to  know  for  what  purpose  or  intent  he  made  that  doleful 
noise,  like  a  hog  in  a  high  wind,  beneath  the  gates  of  the 
Castle. 

'^  I  come,"  replied  the  ambassador,  in  a  high  and  shrill 
voice,  and  without  any  of  the  usual  salutations  or  deferences 
— '^  I  come  from  the  godly  army  of  the  Solemn  League  and 
Covenant,  to  speak  with  two  carnal  Malignants,  VVilliam 
Maxwell,  called  Lord  Evandale,  and  Miles  Bellenden  of  Charn- 
wood." 

^'  And  what  have  you  to  say  to  Miles  Bellenden  and  Lord 
Evandale  ?"  answered  the  Major. 

'^  Are  you  the  parties  ? "  said  the  Laird  of  Langcale,  in 
the  same  sharp,  conceited,  disrespectful  tone  of  voice. 

"  Even  so,  for  fault  of  better,"  said  the  Major. 

''  Then  there  is  the  public  summons,"  said  the  envoy, 
putting  a  paper  into  Lord  Evandale's  hand,  *'  and  there  is  a 
private  letter  for  Miles  Bellenden  from  a  godly  youth,  who  is 
honored  with  leading  a  part  of  our  host.  Eead  them  quickly, 
and  God  give  you  grace  to  fructify  by  the  contents,  though 
it  is  muckle  to  be  doubted." 

The  summons  ran  thus  :  "  We,  the  named  and  constituted 
leaders  of  the  gentlemen,  ministers,  and  others  presently  in 
arms  for  the  cause  of  liberty  and  true  religion,  do  warn  and 
summon  William  Lord  Evandale  and  Miles  Bellenden  of 
Charnwood,  and  others  presently  in  arms,  and  keeping  gar- 
rison in  the  Tower  of  Tillietudlem,  to  surrender  the  said  Tower 
upon  fair  conditions  of  quarter,  and  license  to  depart  with 
bag  and  baggage,  otherwise  to  suffer  such  extremity  of  fire 
and  sword  as  belong  by  the  laws  of  war  to  those  who  liold  out 
an  untenable  post.  And  so  may  God  defend  His  own  good 
cause  ! " 

This  summons  was  signed  by  John  Balfour  of  Burley,  as 
quartermaster-general  of  the  army  of  the  Covenant,  for  him- 
self, and  in  name  of  the  other  leaders. 

The  letter  to  Major  Bellenden  was  from  Henry  Morton. 
It  was  couched  in  the  following  language  : 


OLD  MORTALITY  225 

''  I  have  taken  a  step,  my  venerable  friend,  which,  among 
many  painful  consequences,  will,  I  am  afraid,  incur  your  very 
decided  disapprobation.  But  I  have  taken  my  resolution  in 
honor  and  good  faith,  and  with  the  full  approval  of  my  own 
conscience.  I  can  no  longer  submit  to  have  my  own  rights 
and  those  of  my  fellow-subjects  trampled  upon,  our  freedom 
violated,  our  persons  insulted,  and  our  blood  spilled,  without 
just  cause  or  legal  trial.  Providence,  through  the  violence 
of  the  oppressors  themselves,  seems  now  to  have  opened  a  way 
of  deliverance  from  this  intolerable  tyranny,  and  I  do  not 
hold  him  deserving  of  the  name  and  rights  of  a  freeman  who, 
thinking  as  I  do,  shall  withhold  his  arm  from  the  cause  of  his 
country.  But  God,  who  knows  my  heart,  be  my  witness  that 
I  do  not  share  the  angry  or  violent  passions  of  the  oppressed 
and  harassed  sufferers  with  whom  I  am  now  acting.  My  most 
earnest  and  anxious  desire  is  to  see  this  unnatural  war  brought 
to  a  speedy  end  by  the  union  of  the  good,  wise,  and  moderate 
of  all  parties,  and  a  peace  restored  which,  without  injury  to 
the  King's  constitutional  rights,  may  substitute  the  authority 
of  equal  laws  for  that  of  military  violence,  and,  permitting  to 
all  men  to  worship  God  according  to  their  own  consciences, 
may  subdue  fanatical  enthusiasm  by  reason  and  mildness,  in- 
stead of  driving  it  to  frenzy  by  persecution  and  intolerance. 

"With  tliese  sentiments,  you  may  conceive  "svith  what 
pain  I  appear  in  arms  before  the  house  of  your  venerable 
relative,  which  we  understand  you  propose  to  hold  out  against 
us.  Permit  me  to  press  upon  you  the  assurance  that  such  a 
measure  will  only  lead  to  the  effusion  of  blood  ;  that,  if 
repulsed  in  the  assault,  we  are  yet  strong  enough  to  invest  the 
place,  and  reduce  it  by  hunger,  being  aware  of  your  indif- 
ferent preparations  to  sustain  a  protracted  siege.  It  would 
grieve  me  to  the  heart  to  think  what  would  be  the  sufferings 
in  such  a  case,  and  upon  whom  they  would  chiefly  fall. 

"  Do  not  suppose,  my  respected  friend,  that  I  would  pro- 
pose to  you  any  terms  which  could  compromise  the  high  and 
honorable  character  which  you  have  so  deservedly  won,  and 
so  long  borne.  If  the  regular  soldiers,  to  whom  I  will  insure 
a  safe  retreat,  are  dismissed  from  the  place,  1  trust  no  more 
will  be  required  than  your  parole  to  remain  neuter  during  this 
unhappy  contest ;  and  I  will  take  care  that  Lady  Mavgaret^s 
property,  as  well  as  yours,  shall  be  duly  respected,  and  no 
garrison  intruded  upon  you.  I  could  say  much  in  favor  of 
this  proposal ;  but  I  fear,  as  I  must  in  the  present  instance 
appear  criminal  in  your  eyes,  good  arguments  would  lose  their 
influence  when  coming  from  an  unwelcome  quarter.     I  will. 


226  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

therefore,  break  off  with  assuring  you  that,  whatever  your 
sentiments  may  be  hereafter  towards  me,  my  sense  of  grati- 
tude to  you  can  never  be  diminished  or  erased  ;  and  it  would 
be  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life  that  should  give  me  more 
effectual  means  than  mere  words  to  assure  you  of  it.  There- 
fore, although  in  the  first  moment  of  resentment  you  may 
reject  the  proposal  I  make  to  you,  let  not  that  prevent  you 
from  resuming  the  topic,  if  future  events  should  render  it 
more  acceptable  ;  for  whenever,  or  howsoever,  I  can  be  of 
service  to  you,  it  will  always  afford  the  greatest  satisfaction  to 

"  Hekry  Morto]!^^/^ 

Having  read  this  long  letter  with  the  most  marked  indig- 
nation. Major  Bellenden  put  it  into  the  hands  of  Lord  Evan- 
dale. 

^^I  would  not  have  believed  this,"  he  said,  *'of  Henry 
Morton,  if  half  mankind  had  sworn  it !  The  ungrateful,  re- 
bellious traitor !  rebellious  in  cold  blood,  and  without  even 
the  pretext  of  enthusiasm,  that  warms  the  liver  of  such  a 
crack-brained  fop  as  our  friend  the  envoy  there.  But  I  should 
have  remembered  he  was  a  Presbyterian ;  I  ought  to  have 
been  aware  that  I  was  nursing  a  wolf-cub,  whose  diabolical 
nature  would  make  him  tear  and  snatch  at  me  on  the  first 
opportunity.  Were  Saint  Paul  on  earth  again,  and  a  Presby- 
terian, he  would  be  a  rebel  in  three  months  ;  it  is  in  the  very 
blood  of  them." 

"Well,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "I  will  be  the  last  to  rec- 
ommend surrender  ;  but,  if  our  provisions  fail,  and  we  receive 
no  relief  from  Edinburgh  or  Glasgow,  I  think  we  ought  to 
avail  ourselves  of  this  opening  to  get  the  ladies,  at  least,  safe 
out  of  the  Castle." 

^'  They  will  endure  all,  ere  they  would  accept  the  protection 
of  such  a  smooth-tongued  hypocrite,"  answered  the  Major, 
indignantly ;  **  I  would  renounce  them  for  relatives  were  it 
otherwise.  But  let  us  dismiss  the  worthy  ambassador.  My 
friend,"  he  said,  turning  to  Langcale,  "  tell  your  leaders,  and 
the  mob  they  have  gathered  yonder,  that,  if  they  have  not  a 
particular  opinion  of  the  hardness  of  their  own  skulls,  I  would 
advise  them  to  beware  how  they  knock  them  against  these  old 
walls.  And  let  them  send  no  more  flags  of  truce,  or  we  will 
hang  up  the  messenger  in  retaliation  of  the  murder  of  Cornet 
Grahame." 

With  this  answer  the  ambassador  returned  to  those  by 
whom  he  had  been  sent.  He  had  no  sooner  reached  the  main 
body  than  a  murmur  was  heard  among  the  multitude,  and 


OLD  MORTALITY  207 

there  was  raised  in  front  of  their  ranks  an  ample  red  flag,  the 
borders  of  which  were  edged  with  blue.  As  the  signal  of  war 
and  defiance  spread  out  its  large  folds  upon  the  morning  wind, 
the  ancient  banner  of  Lady  Margaret's  family,  together  with 
the  royal  ensign,  was  immediately  hoisted  on  the  walls  of  the 
Tower,  and  at  the  same  time  a  round  of  artillery  was  discharged 
against  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  insurgents,  by  which  they 
sustained  some  loss.  Their  leaders  instantly  withdrew  tham 
to  the  shelter  of  the  brow  of  the  hill. 

*^I  think,"  said  John  Gudyill,  while  he  busied  himself  in 
recharging  his  guns,  *'  they  hae  fund  the  falcon's  neb  a  bit 
ower  hard  for  them.  li's  no  for  naught  that  the  hawk 
whistles.-" 

But  as  he  uttered  these  words  the  ridge  was  once  more 
crowded  with  the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  A  general  discharge 
of  their  firearms  was  directed  against  the  defenders  upon  the 
battlements.  Under  cover  of  the  smoke,  a  column  of  picked 
men  rushed  down  the  road  with  determined  courage,  and,  sus- 
taining with  firmness  a  heavy  fire  from  the  garrison,  they 
forced  their  way,  in  spite  of  opposition,  to  the  first  barricade 
by  which  the  avenue  was  defended.  They  were  led  on  by 
Balfour  in  person,  who  displayed  courage  equal  to  his  enthusi- 
asm ;  and,  in  spite  of  every  opposition,  forced  the  barricade, 
killing  and  wounding  several  of  the  defenders,  and  compelling 
the  rest  to  retreat  to  their  second  position.  The  precautions, 
however,  of  Major  Bellenden  rendered  this  success  unavailing  ; 
for  no  sooner  were  the  Covenantors  in  possession  of  the  post 
than  a  close  and  destructive  fire  was  poured  into  it  from  the 
Castle,  and  from  those  stations  which  commanded  it  in  the 
rear.  Having  no  means  of  protecting  themselves  from  this 
fire,  or  of  returning  it  with  effect  against  men  who  were  under 
cover  of  their  barricades  and  defences,  the  Covenanters  were 
obliged  to  retreat ;  but  not  until  they  had,  with  their  axes, 
destroyed  the  stockade,  so  as  to  render  it  impossible  for  the  de- 
fenders to  reoccupy  it. 

Balfour  was  the  last  man  that  retired.  He  even  remained 
for  a  short  space  almost  alone,  with  an  axe  in  his  hand,  labor- 
ing like  a  pioneer  amid  the  storm  of  balls,  many  of  which  were 
specially  aimed  against  him.  The  retreat  of  the  party  he  com- 
manded was  not  effected  without  heavy  loss,  and  served  as  a 
severe  lesson  concerning  the  local  advantages  possessed  by  the 
garrison. 

The  next  attack  of  the  Covenanters  was  made  with  more 
caution.  A  strong  party  of  marksmen,  many  of  them -com- 
petitors at  the  game  of  the  popinjay,  under  the  command  of 


I 


828  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Henry  Morton,  glided  through  the  woods  where  they  afforded 
them  the  best  shelter,  and,  avoiding  the  open  road,  endeav- 
ored, by  forcing  their  way  through  the  bushes  and  trees,  and 
ap  the  rocks  which  surrounded  it  on  either  side,  to  gain  a 
position  from  which,  without  being  exposed  in  an  intolerable 
degree,  they  might  annoy  the  flank  of  the  second  barricade, 
while  it  was  menaced  in  front  by  a  second  attack  from  Bur- 
ley.  The  besieged  saw  the  danger  of  this  movement,  and 
endeavored  to  impede  the  approach  of  the  marksmen  by  firing 
upon  them  at  every  point  where  they  showed  themselves.  The 
assailants,  on  the  other  hand,  displayed  great  coolness,  spirit, 
and  judgment  in  the  manner  in  which  they  approached  the 
defences.  This  was  in  a  great  measure  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
steady  and  adroit  manner  in  which  they  were  conducted  by 
their  youthful  leader,  who  showed  as  much  skill  in  protecting 
his  own  followers  as  spirit  in  annoying  the  enemy. 

He  repeatedly  enjoined  his  marksmen  to  direct  their  aim 
chiefly  upon  the  redcoats,  and  to  save  the  others  engaged  in 
the  defence  of  the  Castle  ;  and,  above  all,  to  spare  the  life  of 
the  old  Major,  whose  anxiety  made  him  more  than  once  expose 
himself  in  a  manner  that,  without  such  generosity  on  the  part 
of  the  enemy,  might  have  proved  fatal.  A  dropping  fire  of 
musketry  now  glanced  from  every  part  of  the  precipitous 
mount  on  which  the  Castle  was  founded.  From  bush  to  bush, 
from  crag  to  crag,  from  tree  to  tree,  the  marksmen  continued 
to  advance,  availing  themselv^es  of  branches  and  roots  to  as- 
sist their  ascent,  and  contending  at  once  with  the  disadvan- 
tages of  the  ground  and  the  fire  of  the  enemy.  At  length  they 
got  so  high  on  the  ascent  that  several  of  them  possessed  an  op- 
portunity of  firing  into  the  barricade  against  the  defenders, 
who  then  lay  exposed  to  their  aim,  and  Burley,  profiting  by 
the  confusion  of  the  moment,  moved  forward  to  the  attack  in 
front.  His  onset  was  made  with  the  same  desperation  and 
fury  as  before,  and  met  with  less  resistance,  the  defenders  be- 
ing alarmed  at  the  progress  which  the  sharpshooters  had  made 
in  turning  the  flank  of  their  position.  Determined  to  im- 
prove his  advantage,  Burley,  with  his  axe  in  his  hand,  pursued 
the  party  whom  he  had  dislodged  even  to  the  third  and  last 
barricade,  and  entered  it  along  with  them. 

"  Kill,  kill  !  down  with  the  enemies  of  God  and  His  peo- 
ple I  No  quarter  !  The  Castle  is  ours  ! "  were  the  cries  by 
which  he  animated  his  friends,  the  most  undaunted  of  whom 
followed  him  close,  while  the  others,  with  axes,  spades,  and 
other  implements,  threw  up  earth,  cut  down  trees,  hastily 
laboring  to  establish  such  a  defensive  cover  in  the  rear  of  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  22ft 

second  barricade  as  miglit  enable  them  to  retain  possession  of 
it,  in  case  the  Castle  was  not  carried  by  this  coup-de-main. 

Lord  Evandale  could  no  longer  restrain  his  impatience. 
He  charged  with  a  few  soldiers  who  had  been  kept  in  reserve 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  Castle  ;  and,  although  his  arm  was  in 
a  sling,  encouraged  them,  by  voice  and  gesture,  to  assist  their 
companions  who  were  engaged  with  Burley.  The  combat  now 
assumed  an  air  of  desperation.  The  narrow  road  was  crowded 
with  the  followers  of  Burley,  who  pressed  forward  to  support 
their  companions.  The  soldiers,  animated  by  the  voice  and 
presence  of  Lord  Evandale,  fought  with  fury,  their  small 
numbers  being  in  some  measure  compensated  by  their  greater 
skill,  and  by  their  possessing  the  upper  ground,  which  they 
defended  desperately  with  pikes  and  halberds,  as  well  as  with 
the  butt  of  the  carabines  and  their  broadswords.  Those  with- 
in the  Castle  endeavored  to  assist  their  companions,  whenever 
they  could  so  level  their  guns  as  to  fire  upon  the  enemy  with- 
out endangering  their  friends.  The  sharpshooters,  dispersed 
around,  were  firing  incessantly  on  each  object  that  was  ex- 
posed upon  the  battlement.  The  Castle  was  enveloped  with 
smoke,  and  the  rocks  rang  to  the  cries  of  the  combatants.  In 
the  midst  of  this  scene  of  confusion,  a  singular  accident  had 
nearly  given  the  besiegers  possession  of  the  fortress. 

Cuddie  Headrigg,  who  had  advanced  among  the  marksmen, 
being  well  acquainted  with  every  rock  and  bush  in  thevicinit}/ 
of  the  Castle,  where  he  had  so  often  gathered  nuts  with  Jenny 
Dennison,  was  enabled,  by  such  local  knowledge,  to  advance 
further,  and  with  less  danger,  than  most  of  his  companions, 
excepting  some  three  or  four  who  had  followed  him  close.  Now 
Cuddie,  though  a  brave  enough  fellow  upon  the  whole,  was  by 
no  means  fond  of  danger,  either  for  its  own  sake  or  for  that 
of  the  glory  which  attends  it.  In  his  advance,  therefore,  he 
had  not,  as  the  phrase  goes,  taken  the  bull  by  the  horns,  or 
advanced  in  front  of  the  enemy's  fire.  On  the  contrary,  he  had 
edged  gradually  away  from  the  scene  of  action,  and,  turning 
his  line  of  ascent  rather  to  the  left,  had  pursued  it  until  it 
brought  him  under  a  front  of  the  Castle  different  from  that 
before  which  the  parties  were  engaged,  and  to  which  the 
defenders  had  given  no  attention,  trusting  to  the  steepness  of 
the  precipice.  There  was,  however,  on  this  point,  a  certain 
window  belonging  to  a  certain  pantry,  and  communicating  with 
a  certain  yew-tree,  which  grew  out  of  a  steep  cleft  of  the  rock, 
being  the  very  pass  through  which  Goose  Gibbie  was  smuggled 
out  of  the  Castle  in  order  to  carry  Edith's  express  to  Charn- 
wood,  and  which  had  probably,  in  its  day,  been  used  for  othei 


330  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

contraband  purposes.  Cuddie,  resting  upon  the  butt  of  his 
gun,  and  looking  up  at  this  window,  observed  to  one  of  his 
companions,  '*  There^s  a  place  I  ken  weel ;  mony  a  time  I  hae 
helped  Jenny  Dennison  out  o'  the  winnock,  forbye  creeping 
in  whiles  my  sell  to  get  some  daffin^  at  e'en  after  the  pleugh 
was  loosed." 

*^^  And  what's  to  hinder  us  to  creep  in  just  now  ?"  said 
the  other,  who  was  a  smart  enterprising  young  fellow. 

"  There's  no  muckle  to  hinder  us,  an  that  were  a',"  an- 
swered Ouddie  ;  *^  but  what  were  we  to  do  neist  ?" 

^'  We'll  take  the  Castle,"  cried  the  other  ;  "  here  are  five 
or  six  o'  us,  and  a'  the  sodgers  are  engaged  at  the  gate." 

"  Come  awa'  wi'  you,  then,"  said  Cuddie ;  "but  mind,  deil 
a  finger  ye  maun  lay  on  Lady  Margaret,  or  Miss  Edith,  or  the 
auld  Major,  or,  aboon  a',  on  Jenny  Dennison,  or  onybody 
but  the  sodgers ;  cut  and  quarter  amang  them  as  ye  like,  I 
carena." 

'•'  Ay,  ay,"  said  the  other,  *'  let  us  once  in,  and  we  will 
make  our  ain  terms  with  them  a'." 

Gingerly,  and  as  if  treading  upon  eggs,  Cuddie  began  to 
ascend  the  well-known  pass,  not  very  willingly  ;  for,  besides 
that  he  was  something  apprehensive  of  the  reception  he  might 
meet  with  in  the  inside,  his  conscience  insisted  that  he  was 
making  but  a  shabby  requital  for  Lady  Margaret's  former 
favors  and  protection.  He  got  up,  however,  into  the  yew-tree, 
followed  by  his  companions,  one  after  another.  The  window 
was  small,  and  had  been  secured  by  stanchions  of  iron  ;  but 
these  had  been  long  worn  away  by  time,  or  forced  out  by  the 
domestics  to  possess  a  free  passage  for  their  own  occasional 
convenience.  Entrance  was  therefore  easy,  providing  there 
was  no  one  in  the  pantry,  a  point  which  Cuddie  endeavored 
to  discover  before  he  made  the  final  and  perilous  step.  While 
his  companions,  therefore,  were  urging  and  threatening  him 
behind,  and  he  was  hesitating  and  stretching  his  neck  to  look 
into  the  apartment,  his  head  became  visible  to  Jenny  Denni- 
son, who  had  ensconced  herself  in  said  pantry  as  the  safest 
place  in  which  to  wait  the  issue  of  the  assault.  So  soon  as 
this  object  of  terror  caught  her  eye,  she  set  up  an  hysteric 
scream,  flew  to  the  adjacent  kitchen,  and,  in  the  desperate 
agony  of  fear,  seized  on  a  pot  of  kail-brose  which  she  her- 
self had  hung  on  the  fire  before  the  combat  began,  having 
promised  to  Tam  Halliday  to  prepare  his  breakfast  for  him. 
J.  bus  burdened,  she  returned  to  the  window  of  the  pantry,  and 
still  exclaiming,  *'  Murder  !  murder  ! — we  are  a'  harried  and 
ravished — the  Castle's  taen — tak  it  amang  ye  I  "she  discharged 


OLD  MORTALITY  231 

the  whole  scalding  contents  of  the  pot,  accompanied  with  a 
dismal  yell,  upon  the  person  of  the  unfortunate  Caddie. 
However  welcome  the  mess  might  have  been,  if  Cuddie  and  it 
had  become  acquainted  in  a  regular  manner,  the  effects,  as 
administered  by  Jenny,  would  probably  have  cured  him  of 
soldiering  forever,  had  he  been  looking  upwards  when  it  was 
thrown  upon  him.  But,  fortunately  for  our  man  of  war,  he 
had  taken  the  alarm  upon  Jenny^s  first  scream,  and  was  in 
the  act  of  looking  down,  expostulating  with  his  comrades, 
who  impeded  the  retreat  which  he  was  anxious  to  commence  ; 
80  that  the  steel  cap  and  buff  coat  which  formerly  belonged 
to  Sergeant  Bothwell,  being  garments  of  an  excellent  endur- 
ance, protected  his  person  against  the  gi'eater  part  of  the 
scalding  brose.  Enough,  however,  reached  him  to  annoy  him 
severely,  so  that  in  the  pain  and  surprise  he  jumped  hastily 
out  of  the  tree,  oversetting  his  followers,  to  the  manifest  danger 
of  their  limbs,  and,  without  listening  to  arguments,  entreaties, 
or  authority,  made  the  best  of  his  way  by  the  most  safe  road 
to  the  main  body  of  the  army  whereunto  he  belonged,  and 
could  neither  by  threats  nor  persuasion  be  prevailed  upon  to 
return  to  the  attack. 

As  for  Jenny,  when  she  had  thus  conferred  upon  one  admir- 
er's outward  man  the  viands  which  her  fair  hands  had  so  lately 
been  in  the  act  of  preparing  for  the  stomach  of  another,  she 
continued  her  song  of  alarm,  running  a  screaming  division 
upon  all  those  crimes  which  the  lawyers  call  the  four  pleas  of 
the  crown,  namely,  murder,  fire,  rape,  and  robbery.  These 
hideous  exclamations  gave  so  much  alarm,  and  created  such 
confusion  within  the  Castle,  that  Major  Bellenden  and  Lord 
Evandale  judged  it  best  to  draw  off  from  the  conflict  without 
the  gates,  and,  abandoning  to  the  enemy  all  the  exterior  de- 
fences of  the  avenue,  confine  themselves  to  the  Castle  itself, 
for  fear  of  its  being  surprised  on  some  unguarded  point. 
Their  retreat  was  unmolested  ;  for  the  panic  of  Cuddie  and 
his  companions  had  occasioned  nearly  as  much  confusion  on 
the  side  of  the  besiegers  as  the  screams  of  Jenny  had  caused 
to  the  defenders. 

There  was  no  attempt  on  either  side  to  renew  the  action 
that  day.  The  insurgents  had  suffered  most  severely  ;  and, 
from  the  difliculty  which  they  had  experienced  in  carrying 
the  barricaded  positions  without  the  precincts  of  the  Castle, 
they  could  have  but  little  hope  of  storming  the  place  itself. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  situation  of  the  besieged  was  dis- 
spiriting  and  gloomy.  In  the  skirmishing  they  had  lost  two 
or  three  men,  and  had  several  wounded  \  and  though  their 


332  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

loss  was  in  proportion  greatly  less  than  that  of  the  enemy, 
who  had  left  twenty  men  dead  on  the  place,  yet  their  small 
number  could  much  worse  spare  it,  while  the  desperate  attacks 
of  the  opposite  party  plainly  showed  how  serious  the  leaders 
were  in  the  purpose  of  reducing  the  place,  and  how  well 
seconded  by  the  zeal  of  their  followers.  But,  especially,  the 
garrison  had  to  fear  for  hunger,  in  case  blockade  should  be 
resorted  to  as  the  means  of  reducing  them.  The  Major's 
directions  had  been  imperfectly  obeyed  in  regard  to  laying 
in  provisions  ;  and  the  dragoons,  in  spite  of  all  warning  and 
authority,  were  likely  to  be  wasteful  in  using  them.  It  was, 
therefore,  with  a  heavy  heart  that  Major  Bellenden  gave 
directions  for  guarding  the  window  through  which  the  Castle 
had  so  nearly  been  surprised,  as  well  as  all  others  which  offered 
the  most  remote  facility  for  such  an  enterprise. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

The  King  hath  drawn 
The  special  head  of  all  the  land  together. 

Henry  IV.,  Fart  II, 

The  leaders  of  the  Presbyterian  army  had  a  serious  consul- 
tation upon  the  evening  of  the  day  in  which  they  had  made 
the  attack  on  Tillietudlem.  They  could  not  but  observe 
that  their  followers  were  disheartened  by  the  loss  which  they 
nad  sustained,  and  which,  as  usual  in  such  cases,  had  fallen 
upon  the  bravest  and  most  forward.  It  was  to  be  feared 
that,  if  they  were  suffered  to  exhaust  their  zeal  and  efforts  in 
an  object  so  secondary  as  the  capture  of  this  petty  fort,  their 
numbers  would  melt  away  by  degrees,  and  they  would  lose 
all  the  advantages  arising  out  of  the  present  unprepared 
state  of  the  government.  Moved  by  these  arguments,  it  was 
agreed  that  the  main  body  of  the  army  should  march  against 
Glasgow,  and  dislodge  the  soldiers  who  were  lying  in  that 
town.  The  council  nominated  Henry  Morton,  with  others, 
to  this  last  service,  and  appointed  Burley  to  the  command  of 
a  chosen  body  of  five  hundred  men,  who  were  to  remain  be- 
hind for  the  purpose  of  blockading  the  Tower  of  Tillietud- 
lem. Morton  testified  the  greatest  repugnance  to  this  ar- 
rangement. 

'^  He  had  the  strongest  personal  motives,^'  he  said,  "  for 
desiring  to  remain  near  Tillietudlem  ;  and  if  the  management 
of  the  siege  were  committed  to  him,  he  had  little  doubt  but 
that  he  would  bring  it  to  such  an  accommodation  as,  without 
being  rigorous  to  the  besieged,  would  fully  answer  the  pur- 
pose of  the  besiegers.^' 

Burley  readily  guessed  the  cause  of  his  young  colleague's 
reluctance  to  move  with  the  army ;  for,  interested  as  he  was 
in  appreciating  the  characters  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  he 
had  contrived,  through  the  simplicity  of  Cuddie  and  the 
enthusiasm  of  old  Mause,  to  get  much  information  concern- 
ing Morton's  relations  with  the  family  of  Tillietudlem.  He 
therefore  took  the  advantage  of  Poundtext's  arising  to  speak 
to  business,  as  he  said,  for  some  short  space  of  time  (which 


234  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Burley  rightly  interpreted  to  mean  an  hour  at  the  very  least), 
md  seized  that  moment  to  withdraw  Morton  from  the  hear- 
ing of  their  colleagues,  and  to  hold  the  following  argument 
with  him : 

''Thou  art  unwise,  Henry  Morton,  to  desire  to  sacrifice 
this  holy  cause  to  thy  friendship  for  an  un circumcised  Phil- 
istine, or  thy  lust  for  a  Moabitish  woman/' 

'"'I  neither  understand  your  meaning,  Mr.  Balfour,  nor 
relish  your  allusions/'  replied  Morton,  indignantly ;  *'  and  I 
know  no  reason  you  have  to  bring  so  gross  a  charge  or  to  use 
such  uncivil  language/' 

*'  Confess,  however,  the  truth,"  said  Balfour,  '*  and  own 
that  there  are  those  within  yon  dark  Tower  over  whom  thou 
wouldst  rather  be  watching  like  a  mother  over  her  little  ones, 
than  thou  wouldst  bear  the  banner  of  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land over  the  necks  of  her  enemies/' 

'*  If  you  mean  that  I  would  willingly  terminate  this  war 
without  any  bloody  victory,  and  that  I  am  more  anxious  to 
do  this  than  to  acquire  any  personal  fame  or  power,  you  may 
be,"  replied  Morton,  ''perfectly  right/' 

"  And  not  wholly  wrong,"  answered  Burley,  "  in  deeming 
that  thou  wouldst  not  exclude  from  so  general  a  pacification 
thy  friends  in  the  garrison  of  Tillietudlem/' 

"Certainly,"  replied  Morton  ;  "  I  am  too  much  obliged 
to  Major  Bellenden  not  to  wish  to  be  of  service  to  him,  as 
far  as  the  interest  of  the  cause  I  have  espoused  will  permit. 
I  never  made  a  secret  of  my  regard  for  him." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that,"  said  Burley  ;  "  but  if  thou  hadst 
concealed  it,  I  should,  nevertheless,  have  found  out  thy  rid- 
dle. Now,  hearken  to  my  words.  This  Miles  Bellenden  hath 
means  to  subsist  his  garrison  for  a  month." 

"  This  is  not  the  case,"  answered  Morton  ;  "  we  know  his 
stores  are  hardly  equal  to  a  week's  consumption." 

"  Ay,  but,"  continued  Burley,  "  I  have  since  had  proof, 
of  the  strongest  nature,  that  such  a  report  was  spread  in  the 
garrison  by  that  wily  and  gray-headed  Malignant,  partly  to 
prevail  on  the  soldiers  to  submit  to  a  diminution  of  their 
daily  food,  partly  to  detain  us  before  the  walls  of  his  fortress 
until  the  sword  should  be  whetted  to  smite  and  destroy  us." 

"  And  why  was  not  the  evidence  of  this  laid  before  the 
council  of  war  ?  "  said  Morton. 

'*  To  what  purpose  ?"  said  Balfour.  "  Why  need  we  un- 
deceive Kettledrummle,  Macbriar,  Poundtext,  and  Langcale 
upon  such  a  point  ?  Thyself  must  own,  that  whatever  is 
told  to  them  escapes  to  the  host  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  235 

preachers  at  their  next  holding-forth.  They  are  already  dis- 
couraged by  the  thoughts  of  lying  before  the  fort  a  week. 
What  would  be  the  consequence  were  they  ordered  to  prepare 
for  the  leaguer  of  a  month  1'* 

''  But  why  conceal  it,  then,  from  me  ?  or  why  tell  it  me 
now  ?  and,  above  all,  what  proofs  have  you  got  of  the  fact  ?  '* 
continued  Morton. 

''  There  are  many  proofs,^'  replied  Burley  ;  and  he  put  into 
his  hands  a  number  of  requisitions  sent  forth  by  Major  Bel- 
lenden,  with  receipts  on  the  back  to  various  proprietors,  for 
cattle,  corn,  meal,  etc.,  to  such  an  amount  that  the  sum  total 
seemed  to  exclude  the  possibility  of  the  garrison  being  soon 
distressed  for  provisions.  But  Burley  did  not  inform  Morton 
of  a  fact  which  he  himself  knew  full  well,  namely,  that  most 
of  these  provisions  never  reached  the  garrison,  owing  to  the 
rapacity  of  the  dragoons  sent  to  collect  them,  who  readily  sold 
to  one  man  what  they  took  from  another,  and  abused  the 
Major^s  press  for  stores  pretty  much  as  Sir  John  Falstaff  did 
that  of  the  king  for  men.  -    -  , 

'^And  now,^'  continued  Balfour,  observing  that  he  had 
made  the  desired  impression,  '^1  have  only  to  say  that  I  con- 
cealed this  from  thee  no  longer  than  it  was  concealed  from 
myself,  for  I  have  only  received  these  papers  this  morning ; 
and  I  tell  it  unto  thee  now,  that  thou  mayest  go  on  thy  way 
rejoicing,  and  work  the  great  work  willingly  at  Glasgow,  being 
assured  that  no  evil  can  befall  thy  friends  in  the  Malignant 
party,  since  their  fort  is  abundantly  victualled,  and  I  possess 
not  numbers  sufficient  to  do  more  against  them  than  to  pre- 
vent their  sallying  forth. '* 

"  And  why,"  continued  Morton,  who  felt  an  inexpressible 
reluctance  to  acquiesce  in  Balfour's  reasoning — '*^  why  not 
permit  me  to  remain  in  the  command  of  this  smaller  party, 
and  march  forward  yourself  to  Glasgow  ?  It  is  the  more  hon- 
orable charge. '^ 

''And  therefore,  young  man,''  answered  Burley,  '' have  I 
labored  that  it  should  be  committed  to  the  son  of  Silas  Mor- 
ton. I  am  waxing  old,  and  this  gray  head  has  had  enough  of 
honor  where  it  could  be  gathered  by  danger.  I  speak  not  of 
the  frothy  bubble  which  men  call  earthly  fame,  but  the  honor 
belonging  to  him  that  doth  not  the  work  negligently.  But 
thy  career  is  yet  to  run.  Thou  hast  to  vindicate  the  high 
trust  which  has  been  bestowed  on  thee  through  my  assurance 
that  it  was  dearly  well-merited.  At  Loudon  Hill  thou  wert 
a  captive,  and  at  the  last  assault  it  was  thy  part  to  fight  under 
cover,  while  I  led  the  more  open  and  dangerous  attack  ;  and. 


\ 


236  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

shonldst  thou  now  remain  before  these  walls  when  there  is 
active  service  elsewhere,  trust  me,  that  men  will  say  that  the 
son  of  Silas  Morton  hath  fallen  away  from  the  paths  of  his 
father/' 

Stung  by  this  last  observation,  to  which,  as  a  gentleman 
and  soldier,  he  could  offer  no  suitable  reply,  Morton  hastily 
acquiesced  in  the  proposed  arrangement.  Yet  he  was  unable 
to  divest  himself  of  certain  feelings  of  distrust  which  he  in- 
voluntarily attached  to  the  quarter  from  which  he  received 
this  information. 

'^  Mr.  Balfour, ''he  said,  "let  us  distinctly  understand  each 
other.  You  have  thought  it  worth  your  while  to  bestow  par- 
ticular attention  upon  my  private  affairs  and  personal  attach- 
ments ;  be  so  good  as  to  understand  that  I  am  as  constant  to 
them  as  to  my  political  principles.  It  is  possible  that,  during 
my  absence,  you  may  possess  the  power  of  soothing  or  of 
wounding  those  feelings.  Be  assured  that,  whatever  may  be 
the  consequences  to  the  issue  of  our  present  adventure,  my 
eternal  gratitude  or  my  persevering  resentment  will  attend 
the  line  of  conduct  you  may  adopt  on  such  an  occasion  ;  and 
however  young  and  inexperienced  I  am,  1  have  no  doubt  of 
finding  friends  to  assist  me  in  expressing  my  sentiments  in 
either  case.'' 

"  If  there  be  a  threat  implied  in  that  denunciation,"  re- 
plied Burley,  coldly  and  haughtily,  "  it  had  better  have  been 
spared.  I  know  how  to  value  the  regard  of  my  friends,  and 
despise,  from  my  soul,  the  threats  of  my  enemies.  But  I  will 
not  take  occasion  of  offence.  Whatever  happens  here  in  your 
absence  shall  be  managed  with  as  much  deference  to  your 
wishes  as  the  duty  I  owe  to  a  higher  power  can  possibly  per- 
mit." 

Witli  this  qualified  promise  Morton  was  obliged  to  rest 
satisfied. 

"Our  defeat  will  relieve  the  garrison,"  said  he,  internally, 
"  ere  they  can  be  reduced  to  surrender  at  discretion  ;  and,  in 
case  of  victory,  I  already  see,  from  the  numbers  of  the  Mod- 
erate party,  that  I  shall  have  a  voice  as  powerful  as  Burley's 
in  determining  the  use  which  shall  be  made  of  it." 

He  therefore  followed  Balfour  to  the  council,  where  they 
found  Kettledrummle  [Poundtext]  adding  to  his  lastly  o,  few 
words  of  practical  application.  AVhen  these  were  expended, 
Morton  testified  his  willingness  to  accompany  the  main  body 
of  the  army,  which  was  destined  to  drive  the  regular  troops 
from  Glasgow.  His  companions  in  command  were  named, 
^  and  the  whole  received  a  strengthening  exhortation  from  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  237 

preachers  who  were  present.  Next  morning,  at  break  of  day, 
the  insurgent  army  broke  up  from  their  encampment  and 
marched  towards  Glasgow. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  detail  at  length  incidents  which 
may  be  found  in  the  history  of  the  period.  It  is  sufficient  to 
say  that  Claverhouse  and  Lord  Ross,  learning  the  superior 
force  which  was  directed  against  them,  intrenched,  or  rather 
barricaded,  themselves  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  where  the 
town-house  and  old  jail  were  situated,  with  the  determination 
to  stand  the  assault  of  the  insurgents  rather  than  to  abandon 
the  capital  of  the  west  of  Scotland.  The  Presbyterians  made 
their  attack  in  two  bodies,  one  of  which  penetrated  into  the 
city  in  the  line  of  the  college  and  cathedral  church,  while  the 
other  marched  up  the  Gallowgate  or  principal  access  from  the 
south-east.  Both  divisions  were  led  by  men  of  resolution,  and 
behaved  with  great  spirit.  But  the  advantages  of  military 
skill  and  situation  were  too  great  for  their  undisciplined  valor. 

Ross  and  Claverhouse  had  carefully  disposed  parties  of 
their  soldiers  in  houses,  at  the  heads  of  the  streets,  and  in  the 
entrances  of  closes,  as  they  are  called,  or  lanes,  besides  those 
who  were  intrenched  behind  breastworks  which  reached  across 
the  streets.  The  assailants  found  their  ranks  thinned  by  a 
fire  from  invisible  opponents,  which  they  had  no  means  of  re- 
turning with  effect.  It  was  in  vain  that  Morton  and  other 
leaders  exposed  their  persons  with  the  utmost  gallantry,  and 
endeavored  to  bring  their  antagonists  to  a  close  action  ;  their 
followers  shrank  from  them  in  every  direction.  And  yet, 
though  Henry  Morton  was  one  of  the  very  last  to  retire,  and 
exerted  himself  in  bringing  up  the  rear,  maintaining  order  in 
the  retreat,  and  checking  every  attempt  which  the  enemy 
made  to  improve  the  advantage  they  had  gained  by  the  re- 

Eulse,  he  had  still  the  mortification  to  hear  many  of  those  in, 
is  ranks  muttering  to  each  other,  that  *'  this  came. of  trust- ^j 
ing  to  latitudinarian   boys ;   and  that,  had  honest,  faithful  ; 
Burley  led  the  attack,  as  he  did  that  of  the  barricades  of  Til-  i 
lietudlem,  the  issue  would  have  been  as  different  as  might  be.^' ' 
It  was  with  burning  resentment  that  Morton  heard  these 
reflections  thrown  out  by  the  very  men  who  had  soonest  ex- 
hibited signs  of  discouragement.     The  unjust  reproach,  how- 
ever, had  the  effect  of  firing  his  emulation,  and  making  him 
sensible  that,  engaged  as  he  was  in  a  perilous  cause,  it  -v^ras 
absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  conquer  or  die. 

"  I  have  no  retreat, ^^  he  said  to  himself.  "All  shall  allow 
— even  Major  Bellenden — even  Edith — that  in  courage,  at 
least,  the  rebel  Morton  was  not  inferior  to  his  father.''' 


238  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  condition  of  the  army  after  the  repulse  wa'  so  tin- 
disciplined,  and  in  such  disorganization,  that  the  leaders 
thought  it  prudent  to  draw  off  some  miles  from  the  city  to 
gain  time  for  reducing  them  once  more  into  such  order  as 
they  were  capable  of  adopting.  Recruits,  in  the  meanwhile, 
came  fast  in,  more  moved  by  the  extreme  hardships  of  their 
own  condition,  and  encouraged  by  the  advantage  obtained  at 
Loudon  Hill,  than  deterred  by  the  last  unfortunate  enterprise. 
Many  of  these  attached  themselves  particularly  to  Morton's 
division.  He  had,  however,  the  mortification  to  see  that  his 
unpopularity  among  the  more  intolerant  part  of  the  Covenant- 
ers increased  rapidly.  The  prudence  beyond  his  years  which 
he  exhibited  in  improving  the  discipline  and  arrangement  of 
his  followers,  they  termed  a  trusting  in  the  arm  of  flesh,  and 
his  avowed  tolerance  for  those  of  religious  sentiments  and 
observances  different  from  his  own  obtained  him,  most  un- 
justly, the  nickname  of  Gallic,  '^  who  cared  for  none  of  those 
things."  What  was  worse  than  these  misconceptions,  the 
mob  of  the  insurgents,  always  loudest  in  applause  of  those 
who  push  political  or  religious  opinions  to  extremity,  and 
disgusted  with  such  as  endeavor  to  reduce  them  to  the  yoke 
of  discipline,  preferred  avowedly  the  more  zealous  leaders,  in 
whose  ranks  enthusiasm  in  the  cause  supplied  the  want  of 
good  order  and  military  subjection,  to  the  restraints  which 
Morton  endeavored  to  bring  them  under.  In  short,  while 
bearing  the  principal  burden  of  command — for  his  colleagues 
willingly  relinquished  in  his  favor  everything  that  was  trou- 
blesome and  obnoxious  in  the  office  of  general — Morton  found 
himself  without  that  authority  which  alone  could  render  his 
regulations  effectual.* 

Yet,  notwithstanding  these  obstacles,  he  had,  during  the 
course  of  a  few  days,  labored  so  hard  to  introduce  some 
degree  of  discipline  into  the  army,  that  he  thought  he  might 
hazard  a  second  attack  upon  Glasgow  with  every  prospect  of 
success. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  Morton's  anxiety  to  measure 
himself  with  Colonel  Grahame  of  Claverhouse,  at  whose  hands 
he  had  sustained  such  injury,  had  its  share  in  giving  motive 
to  his  uncommon  exertions.  But  Claverhouse  disappointed 
his  hopes  ;  for,  satisfied  with  having  the  advantage  in  repuls- 
ing the  first  attack  upon  Glasgow,  he  determined  that  he 
would  not,  with  the  handful  of  troops  under  his  command, 
await  a  second  assault  from  the  insurgents,  with  more  numer- 
ous and  better  disciplined  forces  than  had  supported  their 
*  See  Dissensions  among  the  Ciovenanters.   Note  96. 


OLD  MORTALITY  23» 

first  enterprise.  He  therefore  evacuated  the  place,  and 
marched  at  the  head  of  his  troops  towards  Edinburgh.  The 
insurgents  of  course  entered  Glasgow  without  resistance  and 
without  Morton  having  the  opportunity,  which  he  so  deeply- 
coveted,  of  again  encountering  Claverhouse  personally.  But, 
although  he  had  not  an  opportunity  of  wiping  aw^ay  the  dis- 
grace which  had  befallen  his  division  of  the  army  of  the  Cove- 
nant, the  retreat  of  Claverhouse,  and  the  possession  of  Glas- 
gow, tended  greatly  to  animate  the  insurgent  army,  and  t-o 
increase  its  numbers.  The  necessity  of  appointing  new  of- 
ficers, of  organizing  new  regiments  and  squadrons,  of  making 
them  acquainted  with  at  least  the  most  necessary  points  of 
military  discipline,  were  labors  which,  by  universal  consent, 
seemed  to  be  devolved  upon  Henry  Morton,  and  which  he  the 
more  readily  undertook,  because  his  father  had  made  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  theory  of  the  military  art,  and  because  he 
plainly  saw  that,  unless  he  took  this  ungracious  but  abso- 
lutely necessary  labor,  it  was  vain  to  expect  any  other  to  en- 
gage in  it. 

In  the  meanwhile,  fortune  appeared  to  favor  the  enter- 
prise of  the  insurgents  more  than  the  most  sanguine  durst 
have  expected.  The  privy  council  of  Scotland,  astonished  at 
the  extent  of  resistance  which  their  arbitrary  measures  had  pro- 
voked, seemed  stupefied  with  terror,  and  incapable  of  taking 
active  steps  to  subdue  the  resentment  which  these  measures 
had  excited.  There  were  but  very  few  troops  in  Scotland, 
and  these  they  drew  towards  Edinburgh,  as  if  to  form  an 
army  for  protection  of  the  metropolis.  The  feudal  array  of 
the  crown  vassals  in  the  various  counties  was  ordered  to  take 
the  field,  and  render  to  the  king  the  military  service  due  for 
their  fiefs.  But  the  summons  was  very  slackly  obeyed.  The 
quarrel  was  not  generally  popular  among  the  gentry ;  and 
even  those  who  were  not  unwilling  themselves  to  have  taken 
arms  were  deterred  by  the  repugnance  of  their  wives,  mothers, 
and  sisters  to  their  engaging  in  such  a  cause. 

Meanwhile,  the  inadequacy  of  the  Scottish  government  to 
provide  for  their  own  defence,  or  to  put  dow^n  a  rebellion  of 
which  the  commencement  seemed  so  trifiing,  excited  at  the 
English  court  doubts  at  once  of  their  capacity  and  of  the  pru- 
dence of  the  severities  they  had  exerted  against  the  oppressed 
Presbyterians.  It  was,  therefore,  resolved  to  nominate  to  the 
command  of  the  army  of  Scotland  the  unfortunate  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  who  had  by  marriage  a  great  interest,  large  estate, 
and  a  numerous  following,  as  it  was  called,  in  the  southern 
parts  of  that  kingdom.     The  military  skill  which  he  had  dig- 


240  WAVJSRLEY  NOVELS 

played  on  different  occasions  abroad  was  supposed  more  than 
adequate  to  subdue  the  insurgents  in  the  field ;  while  it  was 
expected  that  his  mild  temper,  and  the  favorable  disposition 
which  he  showed  to  Presbyterians  in  general,  might  soften 
men's  minds  and  tend  to  reconcile  them  to  the  government. 
The  Duke  was,  therefore,  invested  with  a  commission,  con- 
taining high  powers  for  settling  the  distracted  affairs  of  Scot- 
land, and  despatched  from  London  with  strong  succors  to  take 
the  principal  military  command  in  that  country. 


CHAPTER  XXYII 

I  am  bound  to  Bothwell  Hill, 
"Where  I  maun  either  do  or  die. 

Old  Ballad. 

There  was  now  a  pause  in  the  military  movements  on  both 
sides.  The  go  vernment  seemed  contented  to  prevent  the  rebels 
advancing  towards  the  capital,  while  the  insurgents  were  in- 
tent upon  augmenting  and  strengthening  their  forces.  For 
this  purpose  they  established  a  sort  of  encampment  in  the 
park  belonging  to  the  ducal  residence  at  Hamilton,  a  cen- 
trical situation  for  receiving  their  recruits,  and  where  they 
were  secured  from  any  sudden  attack  by  having  the  Clyde,  a 
deep  and  rapid  river,  in  front  of  their  position,  which  is  only 
passable  by  a  long  and  narrow  bridge,  near  the  castle  and  vil- 
lage of  Bothwell. 

Morton  remained  here  for  about  a  fortnight  after  the  at- 
tack on  Glasgow,  actively  engaged  in  his  military  duties.  He 
had  received  more  than  one  communication  from  Burley  ;  but 
they  only  stated,  in  general,  that  the  Castle  of  Tillietudlem 
continued  to  hold  out.  Impatient  of  suspense  upon  this  most 
interesting  subject,  he  at  length  intimated  to  his  colleagues 
in  command  his  desire,  or  rather  his  intention — for  he  saw 
no  reason  why  he  should  not  assume  a  license  which  was  taken 
by  every  one  else  in  this  disorderly  army — to  go  to  Milnwood 
for  a  day  or  two  to  arrange  some  private  affairs  of  consequence. 
The  proposal  was  by  no  means  approved  of  ;  for  the  military 
council  of  the  insurgents  were  sufficiently  sensible  of  the  value 
of  his  services  to  fear  to  lose  them,  and  felt  somewhat  con- 
scious of  their  own  inability  to  supply  his  place.  They  could 
not,  however,  pretend  to  dictate  to  him  laws  more  rigid  than 
they  submitted  to  themselves,  and  he  was  suffered  to  depart 
on  his  Journey  without  any  direct  objection  being  stated. 
The  Reverend  Mr.  Poundtext  took  the  same  opportunity  to 
pay  a  visit  to  his  own  residence  in  the  neighborhood  of  Miln- 
wood, and  favored  Morton  with  his  company  on  the  journey. 
As  the  country  was  chiefly  friendly  to  their  cause,  and  in 
possession  of  their  detached  parties,  excepting  here  and  there 


%4M  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  stronghold  of  some  old  Cavaliering  baron,  they  trarelled 
♦without  any  other  attendant  than  the  faithful  Cuddie. 

It  was  near  sunset  when  they  reached  Milnwood,  where 
Poundtext  bid  adieu  to  his  companions,  and  travelled  forward 
alone  to  his  own  manse,  which  was  situated  half  a  mile's  march 
beyond  Tillietudlem.  When  Morton  was  left  alone  to  his  ovp. 
reflections,  with  what  a  complication  of  feelings  did  he  review 
the  woods,  banks,  and  fields  that  had  been  familiar  to  him  \ 
His  character,  as  well  as  his  habits,  thoughts,  and  occupations, 
had  been  entirely  changed  within  the  space  of  little  more  than 
a  fortnight,  and  twenty  days  seemed  to  have  done  upon  him 
the  work  of  as  many  years.  A  mild,  romantic,  gentle-tempered 
youth,  bred  up  in  dependence,  and  stooping  patiently  to  the 
control  of  a  sordid  and  tyrannical  relation,  had  suddenly,  by  the 
rod  of  oppression  and  the  spur  of  injured  feeling,  been  compelled 
to  stand  forth  a  leader  of  armed  men,  was  earnestly  engaged  in 
affairs  of  a  public  nature,  had  friends  to  animate  and  enemies 
to  contend  with,  and  felt  his  individual  fate  bound  up  in  that 
of  a  national  insurrection  and  revolution.  It  seemed  as  if  he 
had  at  once  experienced  a  transition  from  the  romantic  dreams 
of  youth  to  the  labors  and  cares  of  active  manhood.  All  that 
had  formerly  interested  him  was  obliterated  from  his  memory, 
excepting  only  his  attachment  to  Edith  ;  and  even  his  love 
seemed  to  have  assumed  a  character  more  manly  and  disin- 
terested, as  it  had  become  mingled  and  contrasted  with  other 
duties  and  feelings.  As  he  revolved  the  particulars  of  this 
sudden  change,  the  circumstances  in  which  it  originated,  and 
the  possible  consequences  of  his  present  career,  the  thrill  of 
natural  anxiety  which  passed  along  his  mind  was  immediately 
banished  by  a  glow  of  generous  and  high-spirited  confidence. 

"  I  shall  fall  young,''  he  said,  "  if  fall  I  must,  my  motives 
misconstrued  and  my  actions  condemned  by  those  whose  ap- 
probation is  dearest  to  me.  But  the  sword  of  liberty  and 
patriotism  is  in  my  hand,  and  I  will  neither  fall  meanly  nor 
unavenged.  They  may  expose  my  body  and  gibbet  my  limbs  ; 
but  other  days  will  come,  when  the  sentence  of  infamy  will 
recoil  against  those  who  may  pronounce  it.  And  that  Heaven 
whose  name  is  so  often  profaned  during  this  unnatural  war 
will  bear  witness  to  the  purity  of  the  motives  by  which  I  have 
been  guided." 

Upon  approaching  Milnwood,  Henry's  knock  upon  the  gate 
no  longer  intimated  the  conscious  timidity  of  a  stripling  who 
has  been  out  of  bounds,  but  the  confidence  of  a  man  in  full 
possession  of  his  own  rights,  and  master  of  his  own  actions— 
Dold,  free,  and  decided.     The  door  was  cautiously  opened  bj 


OLD  MORTALITY  M* 

his  old  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Alison  Wilson,  who  started  back 
when  she  saw  the  steel  cap  and  nodding  plume  of  the  martial 
visitor. 

''Where  is  my  uncle,  Alison  V  said  Morton,  smiling  at 
her  alarm. 

''Lordsake,  Mr.  Harry  !  is  this  you?^^  returned  the  old 
lady.  ''  In  troth,  ye  garr'd  my  heart  loup  to  my  very  mouth. 
But  it  canna  be  your  ainsell,  for  ye  look  taller  and  mair  manly- 
like  than  ye  used  to  do.'' 

''It  is,  however,  my  own  self,'^  said  Henry,  sighing  and 
smiling  at  the  same  time.  "  I  believe  this  dress  may  make 
me  look  taller,  and  these  times,  Ailie,  make  men  out  of  boys." 

"Sad  times  indeed  !'' echoed  the  old  woman;  "and  0 
that  you  suld  been  d angered  wi'  them !  But  wha  can  help 
it  ?  ye  were  ill  eneugh  guided,  and,  as  I  tell  your  uncle,  if  ye 
tread  on  a  worm  it  will  turn." 

"  You  were  always  my  advocate,  Ailie,"  said  he,  and  the 
housekeeper  no  longer  resented  the  familiar  epithet,  "and 
would  let  no  one  blame  me  but  yourself,  I  am  aware  of  that. 
Where  is  my  uncle  ?  " 

"  In  Edinburgh,"  replied  Alison  ;  *'  the  honest  man  thought 
it  was  best  to  gang  and  sit  by  the  chimley  when  the  reek  rase. 
A  vex'd  man  he's  been  and  a  feared — but  ye  ken  the  Laird  as 
weel  as  I  do." 

"  I  hope  he  has  suffered  nothing  in  health  ?  "  said  Henry. 

"Naething  to  speak  of,"  answered  the  housekeeper,  "  nor 
in  gudes  neither ;  we  fended  as  weel  as  we  could  ;  and,  though 
the  troopers  of  Tillietudlem  took  the  red  cow  and  auld 
Hackie — yell  mind  them  weel — yet  they  sauld  us  a  gude  bar- 
gain o'  four  they  were  driving  to  the  Castle." 

"Sold  you  a  bargain?"  said  Morton;  "how  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"  Ou,  they  cam  out  to  gather  marts  for  the  garrison,** 
answered  the  housekeeper  ;  "  but  they  just  fell  to  their  auld. 
trade,  and  rade  through  the  country  couping  and  selling  a* 
that  they  gat,  like  sae  mony  west-country  drovers.  My  cer- 
tie.  Major  Bellenden  was  laird  o'  the  least  share  o'  what  they 
lifted,  though  it  was  taen  in  his  name." 

"Then,"  said  Morton,  hastily,  "the  garrison  must  be 
straitened  for  provisions  ?  " 

"  Stressed  eneugh,"  replied  Ailie,  "there's  little  doubt.©'" 
that." 

A  light  instantly  glanced  on  Morton's  mind. 

"  Burley  must  have  deceived  me;  craft  as  well  as  cruelty 
is  pennitted  by  his  creed."    Such  was  his  inward  thought ;  he 


244  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

said  aloud,  "  I  cannot  stay,  Mrs.  Wilson  ;  I  must  go  forward 
directly." 

"  But,  oh  !  bide  to  eat  a  mouthfu',"  entreated  the  affec- 
tionate housekeeper,  '^  and  V\\  mak  it  ready  for  you  as  I  used 
to  do  afore  thae  sad  days." 

''  It  is  impossible,"  answered  Morton.  ^'  Cuddie,  get  our 
horses  ready." 

'*  They're  just  eating  their  corn,"  answered  the  attendant. 

''  Ouddie  !"  exclaimed  Ailie ;  "what  garr'd  ye  bring  that 
ill-faur'd,  unlucky  loon  alang  wi^  ye  ?  It  was  him  and  his 
randie  mother  began  a'  the  mischief  in  this  house." 

^'  Tut,  tut,"  replied  Ouddie,  "  ye  should  forget  and  forgie, 
mistress.  Mither's  in  Glasgow  wi'  her  tittie,  and  sail  plague 
ye  nae  mair ;  and  I'm  the  Captain's  wallie  now,  and  I  keep 
him  tighter  in  thack  and  rape  than  ever  ye  did ;  saw  ye  him 
ever  sae  weel  put  on  as  he  is  now  ?  " 

"In  troth  and  that's  true,"  said  the  old  housekeeper,  look- 
ing with  great  complacency  at  her  young  master,  whose  mien 
she  thought  much  improved  by  his  dress.  "  I'm  sure  ye  ne'er 
had  a  laced  cravat  like  that  when  ye  were  at  Milnwood  ;  that's 
nane  o'  my  sewing." 

"  Na,  na,  mistress,"  replied  Cuddie,  "  that's  a  cast  o'  my 
hand  ;  that's  ane  o'  Lord  Evandale's  braws." 

"Lord  Evandale  !"  answered  the  old  lady,  '^that's  him 
that  the  Whigs  are  gaun  to  hang  the  morn,  as  I  hear  say." 

"The  Whigs  about  to  hang, Lord  Evandale  ?"  said  Mor- 
ton, in  the  greatest  surprise. 

'^  Ay,  troth  are  they,"  said  the  housekeeper.  '*  Yesterday 
night  he  made  a  sally,  as  they  ca't — my  mother's  name  was 
Sally  ;  I  wonder  they  gie  Christian  folks'  names  to  sic  unchris- 
tian doings — but  he  made  an  outbreak  to  get  provisions,  and 
his  men  were  driven  back  and  he  was  taen,  an'  the  Whig  Cap- 
tain Balfour  garr'd  set  up  a  gallows,  and  swore— or  said  upon 
his  conscience,  for  they  winna  swear — that  if  the  garrison  was 
not  gien  ower  the  morn  by  daybreak,  he  would  hing  up  the 
young  lord,  poor  thing,  as  high  as  Haman.  ^  These  are  sair 
times  !  but  folk  canna  help  them,  sae  do  ye  sit  down  and  tak 
bread  and  cheese  until  better  meat's  made  ready.  Ye  suldna 
hae  kenn'd  a  word  about  it,  an  I  had  thought  it  was  to  spoil 
your  dinner,  hinny." 

''Fed  or  unfed,"  exclaimed  Morton,  " saddle  the  horses 
instantly,  Cuddie.  We  must  not  rest  until  we  get  before  the 
Castle.'^ 

And,  resisting  all  Ailie's  entreaties,  they  instantly  resumed 
their  journey. 


OLD  MORTALITY  845 

Morton  failed  not  to  halt  at  the  dwelling  of  Ponndtext  and 
summon  him  to  attend  him  to  the  camp.  That  honest  divine 
had  just  resumed  for  an  instant  his  pacific  habits,  and  was 
perusing  an  ancient  theological  treatise,  with  a  pipe  in  hi« 
mouth  and  a  small  jug  of  ale  beside  him,  to  assist  his  diges- 
tion of  the  argument.  It  was  with  bitter  ill-will  that  he  re- 
linquished these  comforts,  which  he  called  his  studies,  in  order 
to  recommence  a  hard  ride  upon  a  high-trotting  horse.  How- 
ever, when  he  knew  the  matter  in  hand,  he  gave  up,  with  a 
deep  groan,  the  prospect  of  spending  a  quiet  evening  in  his 
own  little  parlor  ;  for  he  entirely  agreed  with  Morton  that, 
whatever  interest  Burley  might  have  in  rendering  the  breach 
between  the  Presbyterians  and  the  government  irreconcilable, 
by  putting  the  young  nobleman  to  death,  it  was  by  no  means 
that  of  the  Moderate  party  to  permit  such  an  act  of  atrocity. 
And  it  is  but  doing  justice  to  Mr.  Poundtext  to  add  that,  like 
most  of  his  own  persuasion,  he  was  decidedly  adverse  to  any 
such  acts  of  unnecessary  violence  ;  besides,  that  his  own  pres- 
ent feelings  induced  him  to  listen  with  much  complacence  to 
the  probability  held  out  by  Morton  of  Lord  Evandale's  be- 
coming a  mediator  for  the  establishment  of  peace  upon  fair 
and  moderate  terms.  With  this  similarity  of  views,  they 
hastened  their  journey,  and  arrived  about  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  at  a  small  hamlet  adjacent  to  the  Castle  of  Tillietudlem, 
where  Burley  had  established  his  headquarters. 

They  were  challenged  by  the  sentinel,  who  made  his  mel- 
ancholy walk  at  the  entrance  of  the  hamlet,  and  admitted  upon 
declaring  their  names  and  authority  in  the  army.  Anotlier 
soldier  kept  watch  before  a  house,  which  they  conjectured  to 
be  the  place  of  Lord  Evandale's  confinement,  for  a  gibbet  * 
of  such  great  height  as  to  be  visible  from  the  battlements  of 
the  Castle  was  erected  before  it,  in  melancholy  confirmation 
of  the  truth  of  Mrs.  Wilson's  report.  Morton  instantly  de- 
manded to  speak  with  Burley,  and  was  directed  to  his  quar- 
ters. They  found  him  reading  the  Scriptures,  with  his  arms 
lying  beside  him,  as  if  ready  for  any  sudden  alarm.  He  started 
upon  the  entrance  of  his  colleagues  in  ofiice. 

"  What  has  brought  ye  hither  ? "  said  Burley,  hastily. 
'*  Is  there  bad  news  from  the  army  ?  " 

*' No,"  replied  Morton;  ''but  we  understand  that  there 
are  measures  adopted  here  in  which  the  safety  of  the  army  is 
deeply  concerned.     Lord  Evandale  is  your  prisoner  ?  " 

''  The  Lord,"  replied  Burley,  ''  hath  delivered  him  into 
our  hands." 

•  See  The  Cameronians'  Gibbet.    Note  26. 


246  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'*  And  you  will  avail  yourself  of  that  advantage,  granted 
yoa  by  Heaven,  to  dishonor  our  cause  in  the  eyes  of  all  the 
world,  by  putting  a  prisoner  to  an  ignominious  death  ?  " 

"If  the  house  of  Tillietudlem  be  not  surrendered  by  day- 
break/' replied  Burley,  "  God  do  so  to  me  and  more  also,  if 
he  shall  not  die  that  death  to  which  his  leader  and  patron, 
John  Grahame  of  Claverhouse,  hath  put  so  many  of  God's 
saints." 

"  We  are  in  arms,"  replied  Morton,  "  to  put  down  such 
cruelties,  and  not  to  imitate  them,  far  less  to  avenge  upon  the 
innocent  the  acts  of  the  guilty.  By  what  law  can  you  justify 
the  atrocity  you  would  commit  ?  " 

''If  thou  art  ignorant  of  it,"  replied  Burley,  ''thy  com- 
panion is  well  aware  of  the  law  which  gave  the  men  of  Jericho 
to  the  sword  of  Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun." 

"  But  we," answered  the  divine,  "live under  a  better  dis- 
pensation, which  instructeth  us  to  return  good  for  evil,  and 
to  pray  for  those  who  despitefully  use  us  and  persecute  us." 

"  That  is  to  say,"  said  Burley,  "that  thou  wilt  join  thy 
gray  hairs  to  his  green  youth  to  controvert  me  in  this  matter  ?  " 

"  We  are,"  rejoined  Poundtext,  "two  of  those  to  whom, 
jointly  with  thyself,  authority  is  delegated  over  this  host,  and 
we  will  not  permit  thee  to  hurt  a  hair  of  the  prisoner's  head. 
It  may  please  God  to  make  him  a  means  of  liealing  these  un- 
happy breaches  in  our  Israel." 

"  I  judged  it  would  come  to  this,"  answered  Burley,  "  when 
such  as  thou  wert  called  into  the  council  of  the  elders." 

"  Such  as  I  !"  answered  Poundtext.  "And  who  am  I, 
that  you  should  name  me  with  such  scorn  ?  Have  I  not  kept 
the  flock  of  this  sheepfold  from  the  wolves  for  thirty  years  ? 
Ay,  even  while  thou,  John  Balfour,  wert  fighting  in  the  ranks 
of  uncircumcision,  a  Philistine  of  hardened  brow  and  bloody 
hand.     Who  am  I,  say'st  thou  ?"  ' 

"I  will  tell  thee  what  thou  art,  since  thou  wouldst  so  fain 
know,"  said  Burley.  "  Thou  art  one  of  those  who  would  reap 
where  thou  hast  not  sowed,  and  divide  the  spoil  while  others 
fight  the  battle ;  thou  art  one  of  those  that  follow  the  Gospel 
for  the  loaves  and  for  the  fishes, that  love  their  own  manse  better 
than  the  church  of  God,  and  that  would  rather  draw  their  sti- 
pends under  Prelatists  or  heathens  than  be  a  partaker  with  those 
noble  spirits  who  have  cast  all  behind  them  for  the  sake  of  the 
Covenant." 

"  And  I  will  tell  thee,  John  Balfour,*'  returned  Poundtext, 
deservedly  incensed — "I  will  tell  thee  what  thou  art.  Thou 
art  one  of  those  for  whose  bloody  and  merciless  disposition  a 


OLD  MORTALITY  247 

reproach  is  flnng  upon  the  whole  church  of  this  suffering  king- 
dom, and  for  whose  violence  and  blood-guiltiness,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  this  fair  attempt  to  recover  our  civil  and  religious 
rights  will  never  be  honored  by  Providence  with  the  desired 
success." 

'^Gentlemen,"  said  Morton,  ''  cease  this  irritating  and  un- 
availing recrimination ;  and  do  you,  Mr.  Balfour,  inform  us 
whether  it  is  your  purpose  to  oppose  the  liberation  of  Lord 
Evandale,  which  appears  to  us  a  profitable  measure  in  the  present 
position  of  our  affairs  ?  " 

''You  are  here,"  answered  Burley,  ''as  two  voices  against 
one,  but  you  will  not  refuse  to  tarry  until  the  united  council 
shall  decide  upon  this  matter  ? " 

"This,"  said  Morton,  "we  would  not  decline  if  we  could 
trust  the  hands  in  whom  we  are  to  leave  the  prisoner.  But 
you  know  well,"  he  added,  looking  sternly  at  Burley,  "  that 
you  have  already  deceived  me  in  this  matter." 

"  Go  to,"  said  Burley,  disdainfully,  "thou  art  an  idle,  in- 
considerate boy,  who,  for  the  black  eyebrows  of  a  silly  girl, 
would  barter  thy  own  faith  and  honor,  and  the  cause  of  God 
and  of  thy  country." 

"Mr.  Balfour,"  said  Morton,  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword, 
"this  language  requires  satisfaction." 

"  And  thou  shalt  have  it,  stripling,  when  and  where  thou 
darest,"  said  Burley ;  "  I  plight  thee  my  good  word  on  it." 

Poundtext,  in  his  turn,  interfered  to  remind  them  of  the 
madness  of  quarrelling,  and  effected  with  difficulty  a  sort  of 
sullen  reconciliation. 

"  Concerning  the  prisoner,"  said  Burley,  "  deal  with  him 
as  ye  think  fit.  I  wash  my  hands  free  from  all  consequences. 
He  is  my  prisoner,  made  by  my  sword  and  spear,  while  you, 
Mr.  Morton,  were  playing  the  adjutant  at  drills  and  parades, 
and  you,  Mr.  Poundtext,  were  warping  the  Scriptures  into 
Erastianism.  Take  him  unto  you,  nevertheless,  and  dispose 
of  him  as  ye  think  meet.  Dingwall,"  he  continued,  calling  a 
sort  of  aide-de-camp  who  slept  in  the  next  apartment,  "let 
the  guard  posted  on  the  Malignant  Evandale  give  up  their 
post  to  those  whom  Captain  Morton  shall  appoint  to  relieve 
them.  The  prisoner,"  he  said,  again  addressing  Poundtext 
and  Morton,  "  is  now  at  your  disposal,  gentlemen.  But  re- 
member that  for  all  these  things  there  will  one  day  come  a 
term  of  heavy  accounting." 

So  saying,  he  turned  abruptly  into  an  inner  apartment 
without  bidding  them  good  evening.  His  two  visitors,  after 
a  mementos  consideration,  agreed  it  would  be  prudent  to  in- 


9ilJS  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sure  the  prisoners  personal  safety  by  placing  over  him  an 
additional  guard,  chosen  from  their  own  parishioners.  A 
band  of  them  happened  to  be  stationed  in  the  hamlet,  having 
been  attached  for  the  time  to  Burley's  command,  in  order  that 
the  men  might  be  gratified  by  remaining  as  long  as  possible 
near  to  their  own  homes.  They  were,  in  general,  smart, 
active  young  fellows,  and  were  usually  called  by  their  com- 
panions the  Marksmen  of  Milnwood.  By  Morton's  desire, 
four  of  these  lads  readily  undertook  the  task  of  sentinels,  and 
he  left  with  them  Headrigg,  on  whose  fidelity  he  could  de- 
pend, with  instructions  to  call  him  if  anything  remarkable 
happened. 

This  arrangement  being  made,  Morton  and  his  colleague 
took  possession  for  the  night  of  such  quarters  as  the  over- 
crowded and  miserable  hamlet  could  afford  them.  They  did 
not,  however,  separate  for  repose  till  they  had  drawn  up  a 
memorial  of  the  grievances  of  the  Moderate  Presbyterians, 
which  was  summed  up  with  a  request  of  free  toleration  for 
their  religion  in  future,  and  that  they  should  be  permitted  to 
attend  Gospel  ordinances  as  dispensed  by  their  own  clergymen, 
without  oppression  or  molestation.  Their  petition  proceeded 
to  require  that  a  free  parliament  should  be  called  for  settling 
the  affairs  of  Church  and  State,  and  for  redressing  the  injuries 
sustained  by  the  subject  ;  and  that  all  those  who  either  now 
were  or  had  been  in  arms  for  obtaining  these  ends  should  be 
indemnified.  Morton  could  not  but  strongly  hope  that  these 
terms,  which  comprehended  all  that  was  wanted,  or  wished 
for,  by  the  Moderate  party  among  the  insurgents,  might,  when 
thus  cleared  of  the  violence  of  fanaticism,  find  advocates  even 
among  the  Royalists,  as  claiming  only  the  ordinary  rights  of 
Scottish  freemen. 

He  had  the  more  confidence  of  a  favorable  reception,  that 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  to  whom  Charles  had  intrusted  the 
charge  of  subduing  this  rebellion,  was  a  man  of  gentle,  mod- 
erate, and  accessible  disposition,  well  known  to  be  favorable 
to  the  Presbyterians,  and  invested  by  the  king  with  full  powers 
to  take  measures  for  quieting  the  disturbances  in  Scotland. 
It  seemed  to  Morton  that  all  that  was  necessary  for  influ- 
encing him  in  their  favor  was  to  find  a  fit  and  sufficiently  re- 
spectable channel  of  communication,  and  such  seemed  to  be 
opened  through  the  medium  of  Lord  Evandale.  He  resolved, 
therefore,  to  visit  the  prisoner  early  in  the  morning,  in  order 
to  sound  his  dispositions  to  undertake  the  task  of  mediator ; 
but  an  accident  happened  which  led  him  to  anticipate  his 
purpose. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

Gie  ower  your  house,  lady,  he  said, — 
Gie  ower  your  house  to  me. 

Edom  of  Gordon, 

MoRTOiT  had  finished  the  revisal  and  the  making  out  of  a  fair 
copy  of  the  paper  on  which  he  and  Poundtext  had  agreed  to 
rest  as  a  full  statement  of  the  grievances  of  their  party,  and 
the  conditions  on  which  the  greater  part  of  the  insurgents 
would  be  contented  to  lay  down  their  arms  ;  and  he  was  about 
to  betake  himself  to  repose,  when  there  was  a  knocking  at  the 
door  of  his  apartment. 

''  Enter,^'  said  Morton  ;  and  the  round  bullet-head  of 
Cuddie  Headrigg  was  thrust  into  the  room.  ''  Come  in,''  said 
Morton,  ''  and  tell  me  what  you  want.     Is  there  any  alarm  ?  " 

*^  Na,  stir ;  but  I  hae  brought  ane  to  speak  wi'  you." 

''Who  is  that,  Cuddie  ?"  inquired  Morton. 

''  Ane  o'  your  auld  acquaintance,"  said  Cuddie  ;  and  open- 
ing the  door  more  fully,  he  half  led,  half  dragged  in  a  woman, 
whose  face  was  mufiffed  in  her  plaid.  ''  Come,  come,  ye  needna 
be  sae  bashfu'  before  auld  acquaintance,  Jenny,"  said  Cuddie, 
pulling  down  the  veil,  and  discovering  to  his  master  the  well- 
remembered  countenance  of  Jenny  Dennison.  ''Tell  his 
honor,  now,  there's  a  braw  lass — tell  him  what  ye  were  want- 
ing to  say  to  Lord  Evandale,  mistress." 

"  What  was  I  wanting  to  say,"  answered  Jenny,  "to  his 
honor  himsell  the  other  morning,  when  I  visited  him  in  cap- 
tivity, ye  muckle  hash  ?  D'ye  think  that  folk  dinna  want  to 
see  their  friends  in  adversity,  ye  dour  crowdy-eater  ?  " 

This  reply  was  made  with  Jenny's  usual  volubility  ;  but 
her  voice  quivered,  her  cheek  was  thin  and  pale,  tlie  tears 
stood  in  her  eyes,  her  hand  trembled,  her  manner  was  flut- 
tered, and  her  whole  presence  bore  marks  of  recent  sufl'ering 
and  privation,  as  well  as  nervous  and  hysterical  agitation. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Jenny?"  said  Morton,  kindly. 
"  You  know  how  much  I  owe  you  in  many  respects,  and  can 
hardly  make  a  request  that  I  will  not  grant,  if  in  my  power." 

"  Many  thanks,  Milnwood,"  said  the  weeping  damsel ; 


250  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"but  ye  were  aye  a  kind  gentleman,  thonghfolk  say  ye  hae 
become  sair  changed  now." 

"  What  do  they  say  of  me  ?"  answered  Morton. 

"  A'body  says/*  replied  Jenny,  ''that  you  and  the  Whigs 
hae  made  a  vow  to  ding  King  Charles  aft  the  throne,  and 
that  neither  he,  nor  his  posteriors  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion, shall  sit  upon  it  ony  mair ;  and  John  Gudyill  threeps 
ye're  to  gie  a*  the  church  organs  to  the  pipers,  and  burn  the 
Book  o'  Common  Prayer  by  the  hands  of  the  common  hang- 
man, in  revenge  of  the  Covenant  that  was  burnt  when  the 
King  cam  hame.'* 

'*  My  friends  at  Tillietudlem  judge  too  hastily  and  too  ill 
of  me,"  answered  Morton.  *'  I  wish  to  have  free  exercise  of 
my  own  religion,  without  insulting  any  other  ;  and  as  to  your 
family,  I  only  desire  an  opportunity  to  show  them  I  have  the 
same  friendship  and  kindness  as  ever." 

''  Bless  your  kind  heart  for  saying  sae,"said  Jenny,  burst- 
ing into  a  flood  of  tears  ;  ''  and  they  never  needed  kindness 
or  friendship  mair,  for  they  are  famished  for  lack  o'  food." 

"  Grood  G-od  ! "  replied  Morton,  "  I  have  heard  of  scarcity, 
but  not  of  famine.  Is  it  possible  ?  Have  the  ladies  and  the 
Major " 

"  They  hae  suffered  like  the  lave  o'  us,"  replied  Jenny  ; 
"  for  they  shared  every  bit  and  sup  wi'  the  whole  folk  in  the 
Castle.  I'm  sure  my  poor  een  see  fifty  colors  wi'  faintness, 
and  my  head's  sae  dizzy  wi'  the  mirligoes  that  I  canna  stand 
my  lane." 

The  thinness  of  the  poor  girl's  cheek,  and  the  sharpness 
of  her  features,  bore  witness  to  the  truth  of  what  she  said. 
Morton  was  greatly  shocked. 

"  Sit  down,"  he  said,  ''for  God's  sake  !"  forcing  her  into 
the  only  chair  the  apartment  afforded,  while  he  himself  strode 
up  and  down  the  room  in  horror  and  impatience.  "  I  knew 
not  of  this,"  he  exclaimed,  in  broken  ejaculations — "  I  could 
not  know  of  it.  Cold-blooded,  iron-hearted  fanatic — deceit- 
ful villain  !  Cuddie,  fetch  refreshments — food — wine,  if  pos- 
sible— whatever  you  can  find." 

"  Whiskey  is  gude  eneugh  for  her,"  muttered  Cuddie ; 
"  ane  wadna  hae  thought  that  gude  meal  was  sae  scant  amang 
them,  when  the  quean  threw  sae  muckle  gude  kail-brose 
scalding  het  about  my  lugs." 

Faint  and  miserable  as  Jenny  seemed  to  be,  she  could  not 
hear  the  allusion  to  her  exploit  during  the  storm  of  the  Castle 
without  bursting  into  a  laugh,  which  weakness  soon  converted 
into  an  hysterical  giggle.    Confounded  at  her  state,  and  reflect- 


OLD  MORTALITY  251 

ing  with  horror  on  the  distress  which  must  have  been  in  the 
Castle,  Morton  repeated  his  commands  to  Headrigg  in  a  per- 
emptory manner ;  and  when  he  had  departed,  endeavored  to 
soothe  his  visitor. 

*'  You  come,  I  suppose,  by  the  orders  of  your  mistress,  to 
7isit  Lord  Evandale  ?  Tell  me  what  she  desires  ;  her  orders 
shall  be  my  law." 

Jenny  appeared  to  reflect  a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Your 
honor  is  sae  auld  a  friend,  I  must  needs  trust  to  you,  and  tell 
the  truth." 

^'  Be  assured,  Jenny,"  said  Morton,  observing  that  she  hesi- 
tated, *'  that  you  will  best  serve  your  mistress  by  dealing  sin- 
cerely with  me." 

**  Weel,  then,  ye  maun  ken  weVe  starving,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, and  have  been  mair  days  than  ane  ;  and  the  Major  has 
sworn  that  he  expects  relief  daily,  and  that  he  will  not  gie 
ower  the  house  to  the  enemy  till  we  have  eaten  up  his  auld 
boots — and  they  are  unco  thick  in  the  soles,  as  ye  may  weel 
mind,  forbye  being  teugh  in  the  upper-leather.  The  dra- 
goons, again,  they  think  they  will  be  forced  to  gie  up  at  last, 
and  they  canna  bide  hunger  weel,  after  the  life  they  led  at 
free  quarters  for  this  while  bypast ;  and  since  Lord  Evan- 
dale^'s  taen,  there's  nae  guiding  them  ;  and  Inglis  says  he'll 
gie  up  the  garrison  to  the  Whigs,  and  the  Major  and  the  led- 
dies  into  the  bargain,  if  they  will  but  let  the  troopers  gang 
free  themsells." 

*' Scoundrels ! "  said  Morton;  ''why  do  they  not  make 
terms  for  all  in  the  Castle  ?  " 

*'  They  are  fear'd  for  denial  o'  quarter  to  themsells,  hav- 
ing dune  sae  muckle  mischief  through  the  country  ;  and  Bur- 
ley  has  hanged  ane  or  twa  o'  them  already ;  sae  they  want  to 
draw  their  ain  necks  out  o'  the  collar  at  hazard  o*  honest 
folks'." 

"And  you  were  sent,"  continued  Morton,  ''to  carry 
to  Lord  Evandale  the  unpleasant  news  of  the  men's  mu- 
tiny?" 

''  Just  e'en  sae,"  said  Jenny  ;  "  Tarn  Halliday  took  the 
rue,  and  tauld  me  a'  about  it,  and  gat  me  out  o'  the  Castle  to 
tell  Lord  Evandale,  if  possibly  I  could  win  at  him." 

"  But  how  can  he  help  you  ?  "  said  Morton  ;  "  he  is  a  pris- 
oner." 

"Well-a-day,  ay,"  answered  the  afflicted  damsel;  "but 
maybe  he  could  mak  fair  terms  for  us ;  or  maybe  he  could 
gie  us  some  good  advice  ;  or  maybe  he  might  send  his  orders 
to  the  dragoons  to  be  civil  \  or " 


253  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"Or  maybe/'  said  Morton,  "you  were  to  try  if  it  were 
possible  to  set  him  at  liberty  ? '' 

"If  it  were  sae/'  answered  Jenny,  with  spirit,  "it  wadna 
be  the  first  time  I  hae  done  my  best  to  serve  a  friend  in 
captivity/' 

"  True,  Jenny,''  replied  Morton,  "  I  were  most  ungrateful 
to  forget  it.  But  here  comes  Cuddie  with  refreshments ;  I 
will  go  and  do  your  errand  to  Lord  Evandale  while  you  take 
some  food  and  wine." 

"  It  willna  be  amiss  ye  should  ken,"  said  -Cuddie  to  his 
master,  "  that  this  Jenny — this  Mrs.  Dennison — was  trying  to 
cuittle  favor  wi'  Tam  Rand,  the  miller's  man,  to  win  into  Lord 
Evandale's  room  without  onybody  kennin'.  She  wasna  think- 
ing, the  gypsy,  that  I  was  at  her  elbow." 

"  And  an  unco  fright  ye  gao  me  when  ye  cam  ahint  and 
took  a  grip  o'  me,"  said  Jenny,  giving  him  a  sly  twitch  with 
her  finger  and  her  thumb;  "  if  ye  hadna  been  an  auld  acquaint- 
ance, ye  daft  gomeril " 

Cuddie,  somewhat  relenting,  grinned  a  smile  on  his  artful 
mistress,  while  Morton  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  cloak,  took 
his  sword  under  his  arm,  and  went  straight  to  the  place  of 
the  young  nobleman's  confinement.  He  asked  the  sentinels  if 
anything  extraordinary  had  occurred." 

"  Nothing  worth  notice,"  they  said,  "  excepting  the  lass 
that  Cuddie  took  up,  and  two  couriers  that  Captain  Balfour 
had  despatched,  one  to  the  Reverend  Ephraim  Macbriar, 
another  to  Kettledrummle,"  both  of  whom  were  beating  the 
drum  ecclesiastic  in  diiferent  towns  between  the  position  of 
Burley  and  the  headquarters  of  the  main  army  near  Hamilton. 

"  The  purpose,  I  presume,"  said  Morton,  with  an  affecta- 
tion of  indifference,   "  was  to  call  them  hither." 

"  So  I  understand,"  answered  the  sentinel,  who  had  spoke 
with  the  messengers. 

"  He  is  summoning  a  triumphant  majority  of  the  council," 
thought  Morton  to  himself,  "  for  the  purpose  of  sanctioning 
whatever  action  of  atrocity  he  may  determine  upon,  and 
thwarting  opposition  by  authority.  I  must  be  speedy,  or  I 
shall  lose  my  opportunity." 

When  he  entered  the  place  of  Lord  Evandale's  confine- 
ment, he  found  him  ironed,  and  reclining  on  a  flock  bed  in 
the  wretched  garret  of  a  miserable  cottage.  He  was  either  in 
a  slumber  or  in  deep  meditation  when  Morton  entered,  and 
turned  on  him,  when  aroused,  a  countenance  so  much  reduced 
by  loss  of  blood,  want  of  sleep,  and  scarcity  of  food,  that  no 
one  could  have  recognized  in  it  the  gallant  soldier  who  had 


OLD  MORTALITY  253 

behaved  with  so  much  spirit  at  the  skirmish  of  Loudon  Hill. 
He  displayed  some  surprise  at  the  sudden  entrance  of  Morton. 

'*  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  thus,  my  lord/'  said  that  youthful 
leader. 

''I  have  heard  you  are  an  admirer  of  poetry/'  answered 
the  prisoner  ;  '^  in  that  case,  Mr,  Morton,  you  may  remember 
these  lines — 

**  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Or  iron  bars  a  cage  ; 
A  free  and  quiet  mind  can  take 
These  for  a  hermitage. 

But  were  my  imprisonment  less  endurable,  I  am  given  to 
expect  to-morrow  a  total  enfranchisement." 

''  By  death  ?  "  said  Morton. 

"  Surely/'  answered  Lord  Evandale  ;  "  I  have  no  other 
prospect.  Your  comrade,  Burley,  has  already  dipped  his 
hand  in  the  blood  of  men  whose  meanness  of  rank  and  ob- 
scurity of  extraction  might  have  saved  them.  I  cannot  boact 
such  a  shield  from  his  vengeance,  and  I  expect  to  meet  its 
extremity." 

'^But  Major  Bellenden,"  said  Morton,  '^may  surrender 
in  order  to  preserve  your  life." 

"  Never,  while  there  is  one  man  to  defend  the  battlement, 
and  that  man  has  one  crust  to  eat.  I  know  his  gallant  resolu- 
tion, and  grieved  should  I  be  if  he  chianged  it  for  my  sake." 

Morton  hastened  to  acquaint  him  with  the  mutiny  among 
the  dragoons,  and  their  resolution  to  surrender  the  Castle, 
and  put  the  ladies  of  the  family,  as  well  as  the  Major,  into 
the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Lord  Evandale  seemed  at  first  sur- 
prised and  something  incredulous,  but  immediately  afterwards 
deeply  affected. 

"What  is  to  be  done  ?"  he  said.  "How  is  this  misfor- 
tune to  be  averted  ?  " 

"Hear  me,  my  lord,"  said  Morton.  "I  believe  you  may 
not  be  unwilling  to  bear  the  olive  branch  between  our  master 
the  King  and  that  part  of  his  subjects  which  is  now  in  arms, 
not  from  choice  but  necessity." 

"  You  construe  me  but  justly,"  said  Lord  Evandale  ;  "but 
to  what  does  this  tend  ?" 

"  Permit  me,  my  lord "  continued  Morton.     "  I  will 

set  you  at  liberty  upon  parole  ;  nay,  you  may  return  to  the 
Castle,  and  shall  have  a  safe-conduct  for  the  ladies,  the 
Major,  and  all  who  leave  it,  on  condition  of  its  instant  sur- 
render.     In  contributing  to  bring  this  about  you  will  only 


964  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

submit  to  circumstances  ;  for,  with  a  mutiny  in  the  garrison, 
and  without  provisions,  it  will  be  found  impossible  to  defend 
the  place  twenty-four  hours  longer.  Those,  therefore,  who 
refuse  to  accompany  your  lordship  must  take  their  fate.  You 
and  your  followers  shall  have  a  free  pass  to  Edinburgh,  or 
wherever  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  may  be.  In  return  for 
your  liberty,  we  hope  that  you  will  recommend  to  the  notice 
of  his  Grace,  as  Lieutenant-General  of  Scotland,  this  humble 
petition  and  remonstrance,  containing  the  grievances  which 
have  occasioned  this  insurrection,  a  redress  of  which  being 
granted,  I  will  answer  with  my  head  that  the  great  body  of 
the  insurgents  will  lay  down  their  arms." 

Lord  Evandale  read  over  the  paper  with  attention. 

*'  Mr.  Morton,"  he  said,  *'  in  my  simple  judgment  I  see 
little  objection  that  can  be  made  to  the  measures  here  recom- 
mended ;  nay,  further,  I  believe,  in  many  respects,  they  may 
meet  the  private  sentiments  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  ;  and 
yet,  to  deal  frankly  with  you,  I  have  no  hopes  of  their  being 
granted,  unless,  in  the  first  place,  you  were  to  lay  down  your 
arms." 

''  The  doing  so,"  answered  Morton,  '^  would  be  virtually 
conceding  that  we  had  no  right  to  take  them  up  ;  and  that, 
for  one,  I  will  never  agree  to." 

'^Perhaps  it  is  hardly  to  be  expected  you  should,"  said 
Lord  Evandale  ;  ^'  and  yet  on  that  point  I  am  certain  the  nego- 
tiations will  be  wrecked.  .  I  am  willing,  however,  having 
frankly  told  you  my  opinion,  to  do  all  in  my  power  to  bring 
about  a  reconciliation." 

'^  It  is  all  we  can  wish  or  expect,"  replied  Morton  ;  ''  the 
issue  is  in  God^s  hands,  who  disposes  the  hearts  of  princes. 
You  accept,  then,  the  safe-conduct  ? " 

'*  Certainly,"  answered  Lord  Evandale  ;  *'and  if  I  do  not 
enlarge  upon  the  obligation  incurred  by  your  having  saved  my 
life  a  second  time,  believe  that  I  do  not  feel  it  the  less." 

"  And  the  garrison  of  Tillietudlem  ?  "  said  Morton. 

"  Shall  be  withdrawn  as  you  propose,"  answered  the  young 
nobleman.  "  I  am  sensible  the  Major  will  be  unable  to  bring 
the  mutineers  to  reason  ;  and  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  conse- 
quences, should  the  ladies  and  the  brave  old  man  be  delivered 
up  to  this  bloodthirsty  ruffian,  Burley." 

"  You  are  in  that  case  free,"  said  Morton.  "  Prepare  to 
mount  on  horseback  ;  a  few  men  whom  I  can  trust  shall  at- 
tend you  till  you  are  in  safety  from  our  parties." 

Leaving  Lord  Evandale  in  great  surprise  and  joy  at  this 
unexpected  deliverance,  Morton  hastened  to  get  a  few  choaen 


OLD  MORTALITY  265 

men  under  arms  and  on  horseback,  each  rider  holding  the 
rein  of  a  spare  horse.  Jenny,  who,  while  she  partook  of  her 
refreshment,  had  contrived  to  make  up  her  breach  with  Cud- 
die,  rode  on  the  left  hand  of  that  valiant  cavalier.  The  tramp 
of  their  horses  was  soon  heard  under  the  window  of  Lord 
Evandale^s  prison.  Two  men  whom  he  did  not  know  entered 
the  apartment,  disencumbered  him  of  his  fetters,  and,  con- 
ducting him  downstairs,  mounted  him  in  the  centre  of  the 
detachment.  They  set  out  at  a  round  trot  towards  Tillie- 
tudlem. 

The  moonlight  was  giving  way  to  the  dawn  when  they 
approached  that  ancient  fortress,  and  its  dark  massive  tower 
had  just  received  the  first  pale  coloring  of  the  morning.  The 
party  halted  at  the  Tower  barrier,  not  venturing  to  approach 
nearer  for  fear  of  the  fire  of  the  place.  Lord  Evandale alone 
rode  up  to  the  gate,  followed  at  a  distance  by  Jenny  Denni- 
son.  As  they  approached  the  gate,  there  was  heard  to  arise 
in  the  courtyard  a  tumult  which  accorded  ill  with  the  quiet 
serenity  of  a  summer  dawn.  Cries  and  oaths  were  heard,  a 
pistol-shot  or  two  were  discharged,  and  everything  announced 
that  the  mutiny  had  broken  out.  At  this  crisis  Lord  Evan- 
dale  arrived  at  the  gate  where  Halliday  was  sentinel.  On 
hearing  Lord  Evandale's  voice  he  instantly  and  gladly  ad- 
mitted him,  and  that  nobleman  arrived  among  the  mutinous 
troopers  like  a  man  dropped  from  the  clouds.  They  were  in 
the  act  of  putting  their  design  into  execution,  of  seizing  the 
place  into  their  own  hands,  and  were  about  to  disarm  and 
overpower  Major  Bellenden  and  Harrison,  and  others  of  the 
Castle,  who  were  offering  the  best  resistance  in  their  power. 

The  appearance  of  Lord  Evandale  changed  the  scene.  He 
seized  Inglis  by  the  collar,  and,  upbraiding  him  with  his  vil- 
lany,  ordered  two  of  his  comrades  to  seize  and  bind  him, 
assuring  the  others  that  their  only  chance  of  impunity  con- 
sisted in  instant  submission.  He  then  ordered  the  men  into 
their  ranks.  They  obeyed.  He  commanded  them  to  ground 
their  arms.  They  hesitated  ;  but  the  instinct  of  discipline, 
joined  to  their  persuasion  that  the  authority  of  their  ofiicer,  so 
boldly  exerted,  must  be  supported  by  some  forces  without  the 
gate,  induced  them  to  submit. 

"  Take  away  those  arms,^'  said  Lord  Evandale  to  the  peo- 
ple of  the  Castle  ;  ^'  they  shall  not  be  restored  until  these 
men  know  better  the  use  for  which  they  are  intrusted  with 
;:hem.  And  now,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  mutineers, 
''  begone  !  Make  the  best  use  of  your  time,  and  of  a  truce  of 
three  hours,  which  the  enemy  are  contented  to  allow  you. 


2M-  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Take  the  road  to  Edinburgh,  and  meet  me  at  the  House  of 
Muir.  I  need  not  bid  you  beware  of  committing  violence  by 
the  way  ;  you  will  not,  in  your  present  condition,  provoke  re- 
sentment for  your  own  sakes.  Let  your  punctuality  show 
that  you  mean  to  atone  for  this  morning's  business/' 

The  disarmed  soldiers  shrank  in  silence  from  the  presence 
of  their  officer,  and,  leaving  the  Castle,  took  the  road  to  the 
place  of  rendezvous,  making  such  haste  as  was  inspired  by  the 
fear  of  meeting  with  some  detached  party  of  the  insurgents, 
whom  their  present  defenceless  condition,  and  their  former 
violence,  might  inspire  with  thoughts  of  revenge.  Inglis, 
whom  Evandale  destined  for  punishment,  remained  in  custody. 
Halliday  was  praised  for  his  conduct,  and  assured  of  succeed- 
ing to  the  rank  of  the  culprit.  These  arrangements  being 
hastily  made.  Lord  Evandale  accosted  the  Major,  before 
whose  eyes  the  scene  had  seemed  to  pass  like  the  change  of  a 
dream. 

"  My  dear  Major,  we  must  give  up  the  place.'' 

'^  Is  it  even  so  ?"  said  Major  Bellenden.  "  I  was  in  hopes 
you  had  brought  reinforcements  and  supplies." 

"  Not  a  man — not  a  pound  of  meal,"  answered  Lord  Evan- 
dale. 

*^  Yet  I  am  blithe  to  see  you,"  returned  the  honest  Major  ; 
''  we  were  informed  yesterday  that  these  psalm-singing  rascals 
had  a  plot  on  your  life,  and  I  had  mustered  the  scoundrelly 
dragoons  ten  minutes  ago  in  order  to  beat  up  Burley's  quarters 
and  get  you  out  of  limbo,  when  the  dog  Inglis,  instead  of 
obeying  me,  broke  out  into  open  mutiny.  But  what  is  to  be 
done  now  ?  " 

*'  I  have  myself  no  choice,"  said  Lord  Evandale  ;  *'I  am  a 
prisoner,  released  on  parole,  and  bound  for  Edinburgh.  You 
and  the  ladies  must  take  the  same  route.  I  have,  by  the 
favor  of  a  friend,  a  safe-conduct  and  horses  for  you  and  your 
retinue.  For  God's  sake  make  haste  ;  you  cannot  propose  to 
hold  out  with  seven  or  eight  men,  and  without  provisions. 
Enough  has  been  done  for  honor,  and  enough  to  render  the 
defence  of  the  highest  consequence  to  government.  More  were 
needless,  as  well  as  desperate.  The  English  troops  are  arrived 
at  Jildinburgh,  and  will  speedily  move  upon  Hamilton.  The 
possession  of  Tillietudlem  by  the  rebels  will  be  but  temporary." 
**  If  you  think  so,  my  lord,"  said  the  veteran,  with  a  reluctant 
sigh — "  I  know  you  only  advise  what  is  honorable — if,  then, 
you  really  think  the  case  inevitable,  I  must  submit ;  for,  the 
mutiny  of  these  scoundrels  would  render  it  impossible  to  man 
the  walls;    Gudyill,  let  the  women  call  up  their  mistresses. 


OLD  MORTALITY  267 

and  all  be  ready  to  inarch.  But  if  I  could  believe  that  my  re- 
maining in  these  old  walls,  till  I  was  starved  to  a  mummy, 
could  do  the  king^s  cause  the  least  service,  old  Miles  Bellenden 
would  not  leave  them  while  there  was  a  spark  of  life  in  his 
body!^' 

The  ladies,  already  alarmed  by  the  mutiny,  now  heard  the 
determination  of  the  Major,  in  which  they  readily  acquiesced, 
though  not  without  some  groans  and  sighs  on  the  part  of  Lady 
Margaret,  which  referred,  as  usual,  to  the  disjune  of  his  most 
sacred  Majesty  in  the  halls  which  were  now  to  be  abandoned 
to  rebels.  Hasty  preparations  were  made  for  evacuating  the 
Castle ;  and  long  ere  the  dawn  was  distinct  enough  for  dis- 
covering objects  with  precision,  the  ladies,  with  Major  Bellen- 
den, Harrison,  Gudyill,  and  the  other  domestics,  were  mounted 
on  the  led  horses,  and  others  which  had  been  provided  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  proceeded  towards  the  north,  still  escorted 
by  four  of  the  insurgent  horsemen.  The  rest  of  the  party  who 
had  accompanied  Lord  Evandale  from  the  hamlet  took  pos- 
session of  the  deserted  Castle,  carefully  forbearing  all  outrage 
or  acts  of  plunder.  And  when  the  sun  arose  the  scarlet  and 
blue  colors  of  the  Scottish  Covenant  floated  from  the  Keep  of 
Tillietudlem. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

And,  to  my  breast,  a  bodkin  in  her  hand 
Were  worth  a  thousand  daggers. 

Marlow. 

The  cavalcade  which  left  the  Castle  of  Tillietudlem  halted  f oi 
a  few  minutes  at  the  small  town  of  Both  well,  after  passing  the 
outposts  of  the  insurgents,  to  take  some  slight  refreshments 
which  their  attendants  had  provided,  and  which  were  really 
necessary  to  persons  who  had  suffered  considerably  by  want  of 
proper  nourishment.  They  then  pressed  forward  upon  the 
road  towards  Edinburgh,  amid  the  lights  of  dawn  which  were 
now  rising  on  the  horizon.  It  might  have  been  expected, 
during  the  course  of  the  journey,  that  Lord  Evandale  would 
have  been  frequently  by  the  side  of  Miss  Edith  Bellenden. 
Yet,  after  his  first  salutations  had  been  exchanged,  and  every 
precaution  solicitously  adopted  which  could  serve  for  her 
\v  accommodation,  he  rode  in  the  van  of  the  party  with  Major 
Bellenden,  and  seemed  to  abandon  the  charge  of  immediate 
attendance  upon  his  lovely  niece  to  one  of  the  insurgent 
cavaliers,  whose  dark  military  cloak,  with  the  large  flapped  hat 
and  feather,  which  drooped  over  his  face,  concealed  at  once 
his  figure  and  his  features. 

They  rode  side  by  side  in  silence  for  more  than  two  miles, 
^~  when  the  stranger  addressed  Miss  Bellenden  in  a  tremulous 
and  suppressed  voice.  **  Miss  Bellenden,''  he  said,  ^'  must 
have  friends  wherever  she  is  known,  even  among  those  whose 
conduct  she  now  disapproves.  Is  there  anything  that  such 
can  do  to  show  their  respect  for  her,  and  their  regret  for  her 
sufferings  ?  " 

"  Let  them  learn  for  their  own  sakes,''  replied  Edith,  "  to 
venerate  the  laws  and  to  spare  innocent  blood.  Let  them  re- 
turn to  their  allegiance,  and  I  can  forgive  them  all  that  I 
have  suffered,  were  it  ten  times  more.'' 

"  You  think  it  impossible,  then,"  rejoined  the  cavalier, . 
"for  any  one  to  serve  in  our  ranks,  having  the  weal  of  his 
country  sincerely  at  heart,  and  conceiving  himself  in  the  dis- 
charge of  a  patriotic  duty  ?  " 


OLD  MORTALITY  259 

"  It  might  be  imprudent,  while  so  absolutely  in  your 
power,"  replied  Miss  Bellenden,  ''  to  answer  that  question." 

''Not  in  the  present  instance,  I  plight  you  the  word  of  a 
soldier,"  replied  the  horseman. 

"  I  have  been  taught  candor  from  my  birth,"  said  Edith  ; 
"and,  if  lam  to  speak  at  all,  I  must  utter  my  real  sentiments. 
God  only  can  judge  the  heart ;  men  must  estimate  intentions 
by  actions.  Treason,  murder  by  the  sword  and  by  gibbet,  the 
oppression  of  a  private  family  such  as  ours,  who  were  only  in 
arms  for  the  defence  of  the  established  government  and  of  our 
own  property,  are  actions  which  must  needs  sully  all  that  have 
accession  to  them,  by  whatever  specious  terms  they  may  be 
gilded  over." 

"  The  guilt  of  civil  war,*'  rejoined  the  horseman,  ''  the 
miseries  which  it  brings  in  its  train,  lie  at  the  door  of  those 
who  provoked  it  by  illegal  oppression,  rather  than  of  such  as 
are  driven  to  arms  in  order  to  assert  their  natural  rights  as 
freemen." 

*'  That  is  assuming  the  question,"  replied  Edith,  "  which 
ought  to  be  proved.  Each  party  contends  that  they  are  right 
in  point  of  principle,  and  therefore  the  guilt  must  lie  with 
them  who  first  drew  the  sword  ;  as,  in  an  affray,  law  holds 
those  to  be  the  criminals  who  are  the  first  to  have  recourse  to 
violence." 

"  Alas  !"  said  the  horseman,  "  were  our  vindication  to  rest 
there,  how  easy  would  it  be  to  show  that  we  have  suffered  with 
a  patience  which  almost  seemed  beyond  the  power  of  human- 
ity, ere  we  were  driven  by  oppression  into  open  resistance  I 
But  I  perceive,"  he  continued,  sighing  deeply,  *Hhat  it  is  vain 
to  plead  before  Miss  Bellenden  a  cause  which  sh^  has  already 
prejudged,  perhaps  as  much  from  her  dislike  of  the  persons 
as  of  the  principles  of  those  engaged  in  it." 

*'  Pardon  me,"  answered  Edith  ;  *'  I  have  stated  with  free- 
dom my  opinion  of  the  principles  of  the  insurgents  ;  of  their 
persons  I  know  nothing — excepting  in  one  solitary  instance." 

''  And  that  instance,"  said  the  horseman,  ''  has  influenced 
your  opinion  of  the  whole  body  ? " 

"  Far  from  it,"  said  Edith ;  *'  he  is — at  least  I  once  thought 
him — one  in  whose  scale  few  were  fit  to  be  weighed  ;  he  is — 
or  he  seemed. — one  of  early  talent,  high  faith,  pure  morality, 
and  warm  affections.  Can  I  approve  of  a  rebellion  which  has 
made  such  a  man,  formed  to  ornament,  to  enlighten,  and  to 
defend  his  country,  the  companion  of  gloomy  and  ignorant 
fanatics  or  canting  hypocrites,  the  leader  of  brutal  clowns, 
the  brother-in-arms  to  banditti  and  highway  murderers  ? 


S60  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Should  you  meet  such  an  one  in  your  camp,  tell  him  that 
Edith  Bellenden  has  wept  more  over  his  fallen  character, 
blighted  prospects,  and  dishonored  name  than  over  the  dis- 
tresses of  her  own  house  ;  and  that  she  has  better  endured  that 
famine  which  has  wasted  her  cheek  and  dimmed  her  eye  than 
the  pang  of  heart  which  attended  the  reflection  by  and  through 
whom  these  calamities  were  inflicted/' 

As  she  thus  spoke,  she  turned  upon  her  companion  a 
countenance  whose  faded  cheek  attested  the  reality  of  her 
sufferings,  even  while  it  glowed  with  the  temporary  animation 
which  accompanied  her  language.  The  horseman  was  not 
insensible  to  the  appeal ;  he  raised  his  hand  to  his  brow  with 
the  sudden  motion  of  one  who  feels  a  pang  shoot  along  his 
brain,  passed  it  hastily  over  his  face,  and  then  pulled  the 
shadowing  hat  still  deeper  on  his  forehead.  The  movement, 
and  the  feelings  which  it  excited,  did  not  escape  Edith,  nor 
did  she  remark  them  without  emotion. 

"  And  yet,'*  she  said,  '^  should  the  person  of  whom  I  speak 
seem  to  you  too  deeply  affected  by  the  hard  opinion  of — of — 
an  early  friend,  say  to  him  that  sincere  repentance  is  next  to 
innocence ;  that,  though  fallen  from  a  height  not  easily  re- 
covered, and  the  author  of  much  mischief,  because  gilded  by 
his  example,  he  may  still  atone  in  some  measure  for  the  evil 
he  has  done.'* 

"  And  in  what  manner  ?^'  asked  the  cavalier,  in  the  same 
suppressed  and  almost  choked  voice. 

*'  By  lending  his  efforts  to  restore  the  blessings  of  peace  to 
his  distracted  countrymen,  and  to  induce  the  deluded  rebels 
to  lay  down  their  arms.  By  saving  their  blood,  he  may  atone 
for  that  which  has  been  already  spilled  ;  and  he  that  shall  be 
most  active  in  accomplishing  this  great  end  will  best  deserve  the 
thanks  of  this  age  and  an  honored  remembrance  in  the  next.'' 

"  And  in  such  a  peace,''  said  her  companion,  with  a  firm 
voice,  "  Miss  Bellenden  would  not  wish,  I  think,  that  the 
interests  of  the  people  were  sacrificed  unreservedly  to  those 
of  the  crown  ?  " 

"  I  am  but  a  girl,"  was  the  young  lady's  reply  ;  "and  I 
scarce  can  speak  on  the  subject  without  presumption.  But, 
since  I  have  gone  so  far,  I  will  fairly  add,  I  would  wish  to  see 
a  peace  which  should  give  rest  to  all  parties,  and  secure  the 
subjects  from  military  rapine,  which  I  detest  as  much  as  I  do 
the  means  now  adopted  to  resist  it." 

*'  Miss  Bellenden,"  answered  Henry  Morton,  raising  his 
face  and  speaking  in  his  natural  tone,  "  the  person  who  has 
lost  such  a  highly  valued  place  in  your  esteem  has  yet  too 


OLD  MORTALITY  261 

much  spirit  to  plead  his  cause  as  a  criminal ;  and,  conscious 
that  he  can  no  longer  claim  a  friend's  interest  in  your  bosom, 
he  would  be  silent  under  your  hard  censure,  were  it  not  that 
he  can  refer  to  the  honored  testimony  of  Lord  Evandale,  that 
his  earnest  wishes  and  most  active  exertions  are,  even  now,  di- 
rected to  the  accomplishment  of  such  a  peace  as  the  most 
loyal  cannot  censure/' 

He  bowed  with  dignity  to  Miss  Bellenden,  who,  though 
her  language  intimated  that  she  well  knew  to  whom  she  had 
been  speaking,  probably  had  not  expected  that  he*  would  jus- 
tify himself  with  so  much  animation.  She  returned  his  salute, 
confused  and  in  silence.  Morton  then  rode  forward  to  the 
head  of  the  party. 

"  Henry  Morton  !  "  exclaimed  Major  Bellenden,  surprised 
at  the  sudden  apparition. 

"  The  same,"  answered  Morton  ;  '*  who  is  sorry  that  he 
labors  under  the  harsh  construction  of  Major  Bellenden  and 
his  family.  He  commits  to  my  Lord  Evandale,''  he  continued, 
turning  towards  the  young  nobleman  and  bowing  to  him, 
"  the  charge  of  undeceiving  his  friends,  both  regarding  the 
particulars  of  his  conduct  and  the  purity  of  his  motives. 
Farewell,  Major  Bellenden.  All  happiness  attend  you  and 
yours  !     May  we  meet  again  in  happier  and  better  times  ! " 

*' Believe  me,''  said  Lord  Evandale,  ''your  confidence, 
Mr.  Morton,  is  not  misplaced  ;  I  will  endeavor  to  repay  the 
great  services  I  have  received  from  you  by  doing  my  best  to 
place  your  character  on  its  proper  footing  with  Major  Bellen- 
den and  all  whose  esteem  you  value." 

"I  expected  no  less  from  your  generosity,  my  lord,"  said 
Morton. 

He  then  called  his  followers,  and  rode  off  along  the  heath 
in  the  direction  of  Hamilton,  their  feathers  waving  and  their 
steel  caps  glancing  in  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun.  Cuddie 
Headrigg  alone  remained  an  instant  behind  his  companions 
to  take  an  affectionate  farewell  of  Jenny  Dennison,  who  had 
contrived,  during  this  short  morning's  ride,  to  re-establish 
her  influence  over  his  susceptible  bosom.  A  straggling  tree 
or  two  obscured,  rather  than  concealed,  their  tete-d-Utey  as 
they  halted  their  horses  to  bid  adieu. 

"  Fare  ye  weel,  Jenny,"  said  Cuddie,  with  a  loud  exertion 
of  his  lungs,  intended  perhaps  to  be  a  sigh,  but  rather  resem- 
bling the  intonation  of  a  groan.  "  Ye'll  think  o'  puir  Cuddie 
sometimes,  an  honest  lad  that  lo'es  ye,  Jenny — ye'll  think  o' 
him  now  and  then  ?  " 

**  Whiles — at  brose-time,"  answered  the  malicious  damsel. 


262  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

unable  either  to  suppress  the  repartee  or  the  arch  smile  which 
attended  it. 

Cud  die  took  his  revenge  as  rustic  lovers  are  wont,  and  as 
Jenny  probably  expected, — caught  his  mistress  round  the  neck, 
kissed  her  cheeks  and  lips  heartily,  and  then  turned  his  horse 
and  trotted  after  his  master. 

"  DeiFs  in  the  fallow/'  said  Jenny,  wiping  her  lips  and 
adjusting  her  head-dress,  **  he  has  twice  the  spunk  o'  Tarn 
Halliday,  after  a\  Coming,  my  leddy,  coming.  Lord  have 
a  care  o'  us;  I  trust  the  auld  leddy  didna  see  us  ! " 

*^  Jenny,''  said  Lady  Margaret,  as  the  damsel  came  up, 
*'  was  not  that  young  man  who  commanded  the  party  the  same 
that  was  captain  of  the  popinjay,  and  who  was  afterwards 
prisoner  at  Tillietudlem  on  the  morning  Claverhouse  came 
there?" 

Jenny,  happy  that  the  query  had  no  reference  to  her  own 
little  matters,  looked  at  her  young  mistress  to  discover,  if 
possible,  whether  it  was  her  cue  to  speak  truth  or  not.  Jsot 
being  able  to  catch  any  hint  to  guide  her,  she  followed  her 
instinct  as  a  lady's-maid,  and  lied. 

"  I  dinna  believe  it  was  him,  my  leddy,"  said  Jenny,  as 
confidently  as  if  she  had  been  saying  her  catechism  ;  "he  was 
a  little  black  man,  that." 

"  You  must  have  been  blind,  Jenny,"  said  the  Major  : 
"  Henry  Morton  is  tall  and  fair,  and  that  youth  is  the  very 
man." 

''I  had  ither  thing  ado  than  be  looking  at  him,"  said 
Jenny,  tossing  her  head ;  "he  may  be  as  fair  as  a  farthing 
candle  for  me." 

"  Is  it  not,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "  a  blessed  escape  which 
we  have  made  out  of  the  hands  of  so  desperate  and  bloodthirsty 
a  fanatic  ?  " 

"You  are  deceived,  madam,"  said  Lord  Evandale  ;  "Mr. 
Morton  merits  such  a  title  from  no  one,  but  least  from  us. 
That  I  am  now  alive,  and  that  you  are  now  on  your  safe  re- 
treat to  your  friends,  instead  of  being  prisoners  to  a  real  fanatical 
homicide,  is  solely  and  entirely  owing  to  the  prompt,  active, 
and  energetic  humanity  of  this  young  gentleman." 

He  then  went  into  a  particular  narrative  of  the  events 
with  which  the  reader  is  acquainted,  dwelling  upon  the  merits 
of  Morton,  and  expatiating  on  the  risk  at  which  he  had  ren- 
dered them  these  important  services,  as  if  he  had  been  a  brother 
instead  of  a  rival. 

"I  were  worse  than  ungrateful,"  he  said,  "  were  I  silent 
on  the  merits  of  the  man  who  has  twice  saved  my  life." 


OLD  MORTALITY  263 

"I  would  willingly  think  well  of  Henry  Morton,  my  lord/' 
replied  Major  Bellenden  ;  ''and  I  own  he  has  behaved  hand- 
somely to  your  lordship  and  to  us ;  but  I  cannot  have  the 
same  allowances  which  it  pleases  your  lordship  to  entertain 
for  his  present  courses." 

"  You  are  to  consider,"  replied  Lord  Evandale,  *'  that  he 
has  been  partly  forced  upon  them  by  necessity  ;  and  I  must 
add,  that  his  principles,  though  differing  in  some  degree  from 
my  own,  are  such  as  ought  to  command  respect.  Claverhouse, 
whose  knowledge  of  men  is  not  to  be  disputed,  spoke  justly 
of  him  as  to  his  extraordinary  qualities,  but  with  prejudice 
and  harshly  concerning  his  principles  and  motives." 

"  You  have  not  been  long  in  learning  all  his  extraordinary 
qualities^  my  lord,"  answered  Major  Bellenden.  "  I,  who 
have  known  him  from  boyhood,  could,  before  this  affair,  have 
said  much  of  his  good  principles  and  good-nature  ;  but  as  to 
his  high  talents " 

"  They  were  probably  hidden.  Major,"  replied  the  generous 
Lord  Evandale,  ''  even  from  himself  until  circumstances 
called  them  forth  ;  and,  if  I  have  detected  them,  it  was  only 
because  our  intercourse  and  conversation  turned  on  moment- 
ous and  important  subjects.  He  is  now  laboring  to  bring 
this  rebellion  to  an  end,  and  the  terms  he  has  proposed  are 
so  moderate  that  they  shall  not  want  my  hearty  recommenda- 
tion." 

''And  have  you  hopes,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "to  accom- 
plish a  scheme  so  comprehensive  ?" 

"I  should  have,  madam,  were  every  Whig  as  moderate  as 
Morton,  and  every  loyalist  as  disinterested  as  Major  Bellen- 
den. But  such  is  the  fanaticism  and  violent  irritation  of  both 
parties,  that  I  fear  nothing  will  end  this  civil  war  save  the 
edge  of  the  sword." 

It  may  be  readily  supposed  that  Edith  listened  with  the 
deepest  interest  to  this  conversation.  While  she  regretted 
that  she  had  expressed  herself  harshly  and  hastily  to  her  lover, 
she  felt  a  conscious  and  proud  satisfaction  that  his  character 
was,  even  in  the  judgment  of  his  noble-minded  rival,  such  as 
her  own  affection  had  once  spoke  it. 

"Civil  feuds  and  domestic  prejudices,"  she  said,  "may 
render  it  necessary  for  me  to  tear  his  remembrance  from  my 
heart ;  but  it  is  no  small  relief  to  know  assuredly  that  it  is 
worthy  of  the  place  it  has  so  long  retained  there." 

While  Edith  was  thus  retracting  her  unjust  resentment, 
her  lover  arrived  at  the  camp  of  the  insurgents  near  Hamil- 
ton, which  he  found  in  considerable  confusion.     Certain  ad- 


264  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

vices  had  arrived  that  the  royal  army,  having  been  recmited 
from  England  by  a  large  detachment  of  the  King's  Guards, 
were  about  to  take  the  field.  Fame  magnified  their  numbers 
and  their  high  state  of  equipment  and  discipline,  and  spread 
abroad  other  circumstances  which  dismayed  the  courage  of 
tlie  insurgents.  What  favor  they  might  have  expected  from 
Monmouth  was  likely  to  be  intercepted  by  the  influence  of 
those  associated  with  him  in  command.  His  lieutenant-gen- 
eral was  the  celebrated  General  Thomas  Dalzell,  who,  having 
practised  the  art  of  war  in  the  then  barbarous  country  of 
Russia,  was  as  much  feared  for  his  cruelty  and  indifference  to 
human  life  and  human  sufferings  as  respected  for  his  steady 
loyalty  and  undaunted  valor.  This  man  was  second  in  com- 
mand to  Monmouth,  and  the  horse  were  commanded  by  Clav- 
erhouse,  burning  with  desire  to  revenge  the  death  of  his 
nephew  and  his  defeat  at  Drumclog.  To  these  accounts  was 
added  the  most  formidable  and  terrific  description  of  the  train 
of  artillery  and  the  cavalry  force  with  which  the  royal  army 
took  the  field.* 

Large  bodies  composed  of  the  Highland  clans,  having  in 
language,  religion,  and  manners  no  connection  with  the  in- 
surgents, had  been  summoned  to  join  the  royal  army  under 
their  various  chieftains ;  and  these  Amorites,  or  Philistines, 
as  the  insurgents  termed  them,  came  like  eagles  to  the 
slaughter.  In  fact,  every  person  who  could  ride  or  run  at  the 
king^s  command  was  summoned  to  arms,  apparently  with  the 
purpose  of  forfeiting  and  fining  such  men  of  property  whom 
their  principles  might  deter  from  joining  the  royal  standard, 
though  prudence  prevented  them  from  joining  that  of  the  in- 
surgent Presbyterians.  In  short,  every  rumor  tended  to  in- 
crease the  apprehension  among  the  insurgents  that  the  king's 
vengeance  had  only  been  delayed  in  order  that  it  might  fall 
more  certain  and  more  heavy. 

Morton  endeavored  to  fortify  the  minds  of  the  common 
people  by  pointing  out  the  probable  exaggeration  of  these 
reports,  and  by  reminding  them  of  the  strength  of  their  own 
situation,  with  an  unfordable  river  in  front  only  passable  by 
a  long  and  narrow  bridge.  He  called  to  their  remembrance 
their  victory  over  Claverhouse  when  their  numbers  were  few, 
and  then  much  worse  disciplined  and  appointed  for  battle  than 
now  ;  showed  them  that  the  ground  on  which  they  lay  afforded, 
by  its  undulation  and  the  thickets  which  intersected  it,  con- 
siderable protection  against  artillery,  and  even  against  cavalrj, 

•  Bee  Royal  Army  at  Bothwell  Bridge.    Note  87. 


OLD  MORTALITY  265 

if  stoutly  defended  ;  and  that  their  safety,  in  fact,  depended 
on  their  own  spirit  and  resolution. 

But  while  Morton  thus  endeavored  to  keep  up  the  courage 
of  the  army  at  large,  he  availed  himself  of  those  discouraging 
rumors  to  endeavor  to  impress  on  the  minds  of  the  leaders 
the  necessity  of  proposing  to  the  government  moderate  terms 
of  accommodation,  while  they  were  still  formidable  as  com- 
manding an  unbroken  and  numerous  army.  He  pointed  out 
to  them  that,  in  the  present  humor  of  their  followers,  it  could 
hardly  be  expected  that  they  would  engage,  with  adv^intage, 
the  well-appointed  and  regular  force  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth; 
and  that  if  they  chanced,  as  was  most  likely,  to  be  defeated 
and  dispersed,  the  insurrection  in  which  they  had  engaged,  so 
far  from  being  useful  to  the  country,  would  be  rendered  the 
apology  for  oppressing  it  more  severely. 

Pressed  by  these  argumicnts,  and  feeling  it  equally  danger- 
ous to  remain  together  or  to  dismiss  their  forces,  most  of  the 
leaders  readily  agreed  that,  if  such  terms  could  be  obtained  as 
had  been  transmitted  to  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  by  the  hands 
of  Lord  Evandale,  the  purpose  for  which  they  had  taken  up 
arms  would  be,  in  a  great  measure,  accomplished.  They  then 
entered  into  similar  resolutions,  and  agreed  to  guarantee  the 
petition  and  remonstrance  which  had  been  drawn  up  by  Mor- 
ton. On  the  contrary,  there  were  still  several  leaders,  and 
those  men  whose  influence  with  the  people  exceeded  that  of 
persons  of  more  apparent  consequence,  who  regarded  every 
proposal  of  treaty  which  did  not  proceed  on  the  basis  of  the 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant  of  1640  as  utterly  null  and  void, 
impious,  and  unchristian.  These  men  diffused  their  feelings 
among  the  multitude,  who  had  little  foresight  and  nothing 
to  lose,  and  persuaded  many  that  the  timid  counsellors  who 
recommended  peace  upon  terms  short  of  the  dethronement  of 
the  royal  family,  and  the  declared  independence  of  the  church 
with  respect  to  the  state,  were  cowardly  laborers,  who  were 
about  to  withdraw  their  hands  from  the  plough,  and  despica- 
ble trimmers,  who  sought  only  a  specious  pretext  for  deserting 
their  brethren  in  arms.  These  contradictory  opinions  were 
fiercely  argued  in  each  tent  of  the  insurgent  army,  or  rather 
in  the  huts  or  cabins  which  served  in  the  place  of  tents. 
Violence  in  language  often  led  to  open  quarrels  and  blows, 
and  the  divisions  into  which  the  army  of  sufferers  was  rent 
served  as  too  plain  a  presage  of  their  future  fate. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

The  curse  of  growing  factions  and  divisions 
Still  vex  your  councils  ! 

Venice  Preserved, 

The  prudence  of  Morton  found  snflficient  occupation  in  stem- 
ming  the  furious  current  of  these  contending  parties,  when, 
two  days  after  his  return  to  Hamilton,  he  was  visited  by  his 
friend  and  colleague,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Poundtext,  flying,  as 
he  presently  found,  from  the  face  of  John  Balfour  of  Burley, 
whom  he  left  not  a  little  incensed  at  the  share  he  had  taken 
in  the  liberation  of  Lord  Evandale.  When  the  worthy  divine 
had  somewhat  recruited  his  spirits,  after  the  hurry  and  fatigue 
of  his  journey,  he  proceeded  to  give  Morton  an  account  of 
what  had  passed  in  the  vicinity  of  Tillietudlem  after  the  mem- 
orable morning  of  his  departure. 

The  night  march  of  Morton  had  been  accomplished  with 
such  dexterity,  and  the  men  were  so  faithful  to  their  trust, 
that  Burley  received  no  intelligence  of  what  had  happened 
until  the  morning  was  far  advanced.  His  first  inquiry  was, 
whether  Macbriar  and  Kettledrummle  had  arrived,  agreeably 
to  the  summons  which  he  had  despatched  at  midnight.  Mac- 
briar  had  come,  and  Kettledrummle,  though  a  heavy  traveller, 
might,  he  was  informed,  be  instantly  expected.  Burley  then 
despatched  a  messenger  to  Morton's  quarters  to  summon  him 
to  an  immediate  council.  The  messenger  returned  with  news 
that  he  had  left  the  place.  Poundtext  was  next  summoned  ; 
but  he  thinking,  as  he  said  himself,  that  it  was  ill  dealing 
with  fractious  folk,  had  withdrawn  to  his  own  quiet  manse, 
preferring  a  dark  ride,  though  he  had  been  on  horseback  the 
whole  preceding  day,  to  a  renewal  in  the  morning  of  a  con- 
troversy with  Burley,  whose  ferocity  overawed  him  when  un- 
supported by  the  firmness  of  Morton.  Burley's  next  inquiries 
were  directed  after  Lord  Evandale  ;  and  great  was  his  rage 
when  he  learned  that  he  had  been  conveyed  away  overnight 
by  a  party  of  the  Marksmen  of  Milnwood,  under  the  imme- 
diate command  of  Henry  Morton  himself. 

**  The  yillain  !"  exclaimed  Burley,  addressing  himself  to 


OLD  MORTALITY  267 

Macbriar,  ''the  base,  mean-spirited  traitor,  to  curry  favor 
for  himself  with  the  government,  hath  set  at  liberty  the  pris- 
oner taken  by  my  own  right  hand,  through  means  of  whom, 
I  have  little  doubt,  the  possession  of  the  place  of  strength 
which  hath  wrought  us  such  trouble  might  now  have  been  in 
our  hands  ! " 

*'  But  is  it  not  in  our  hands  ?"  said  Macbriar,  looking  up 
towards  the  keep  of  the  castle  ;  * '  and  are  not  these  the  colors 
of  the  Covenant  that  float  over  its  walls  ?  " 

''  A  stratagem,  a  mere  trick, ^'  said  Burley,  ''  an  insult 
over  our  disappointment,  intended  to  aggravate  and  embitter 
our  spirits/' 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  one  of  Morton's  fol- 
lowers, sent  to  report  to  him  the  evacuation  of  the  place,  and 
its  occupation  by  the  insurgent  forces.  Burley  was  rather 
driven  to  fury  than  reconciled  by  the  news  of  this  success. 

"  I  have  watched,''  he  said,  ''  I  have  fought,  I  have  plotted, 
I  have  striven  for  the  reduction  of  this  place,  I  have  for- 
borne to  seek  to  head  enterprises  of  higher  command  and  of 
higher  honor,  I  have  narrowed  their  outgoings,  and  cut  off 
the  springs,  and  broken  the  staff  of  bread  within  their  walls  ; 
and  when  the  men  were  abouHa-^eld-themselves^ip  my 
hand,  that  their  sons  might  be  bondsmen  and  their  daughters 
a  laughing-stock  to  our  whole  camp,  cometh  this  youth 
without  a  beard  on  his  chin,  and  takes  it  on  him  to  thrust 
his  sickle  into  the  harvest,  and  to  rend  the  prey  from  the 
spoiler  !  Surely  the  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire,  and  the 
city,  with  its  captives,  should  be  given  to  him  that  wins  it  ?  " 

^'  Nay,"  said  Macbriar,  who  was  surprised  at  the  degree 
of  agitation  which  Balfour  displayed,  ''chafe  not  thyself  be- 
cause of  the  ungodly.  Heaven  will  use  its  own  instruments ; 
and  who  knows  but  this  youth " 

"Hush!  hush  !"  said  Burley;  "do  not  discredit  thine 
own  better  judgment.  It  was  thou  that  first  badest  me  be- 
ware of  this  painted  sepulchre,  this  lacquered  piece  of  copper, 
that  passed  current  with  me  for  gold.  It  fares  ill,  even  with 
the  elect,  when  they  neglect  the  guidance  of  such  pious  pas- 
tors as  thou.  But  our  carnal  affections  will  mislead  us  :  this 
ungrateful  boy's  father  was  mine  ancient  friend.  They  must 
be  as  earnest  in  their  struggles  as  thou,  Ephraim  Macbriar, 
that  would  shake  themselves  clear  of  the  clogs  and  chains  of 
humanity." 

This  compliment  touched  the  preacher  in  the  most  sensi- 
ble part ;  and  Burley  deemed,  therefore,  he  should  find  little 
diflBculty  in  moulding  his  opinions  to  the  support  of  his  own 


268  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

views,  more  especially  as  they  agreed  exactly  in  their  high- 
strained  opinions  of  church  government. 

*'  Let  us  instantly,"  he  said,  '^go  up  to  the  Tower  ;  there 
is  that  among  the  records  in  yonder  fortress  which,  well  used 
as  I  can  use  it,  shall  be  worth  to  us  a  valiant  leader  and  an 
hundrec  horsemen." 

"  But  will  such  be  the  fitting  aids  of  the  children  of  the 
Covenant  ?  "  said  the  preacher.  '^  We  have  already  among  us 
too  many  who  hunger  after  lands,  and  silver  and  gold,  rather 
than  after  the  Word  ;  it  is  not  by  such  that  our  deliverance 
shall  be  wrought  out." 

''  Thou  errest,"  said  Burley  ;  '^  we  must  work  by  means, 
and  these  worldly  men  shall  be  our  instruments.  At  all 
events,  the  Moabitish  woman  shall  be  despoiled  of  her  inher- 
itance, and  neither  the  Malignant  Evandale  nor  the  Erastian 
Morton  shall  possess  yonder  castle  and  lands,  though  they 
may  seek  in  marriage  the  daughter  thereof." 

So  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  Tillietudlem,  where  he  seized 
upon  the  plate  and  other  valuables  for  the  use  of  the  army, 
ransacked  the  charter-room  and  other  receptacles  for  family 
papers,  and  treated  with  contempt  the  remonstrances  of  those 
who  reminded  him  that  the  terms  granted  to  the  garrison  had 
guaranteed  respect  to  private  property. 

Burley  and  Macbriar,  having  established  themselves  in 
their  new  acquisition,  were  joined  by  Kettledrummle  in  the 
course  of  the  day,  and  also  by  the  Laird  of  Langcale,  whom 
that  active  divine  had  contrived  to  seduce,  as  Poundtext  termed 
it,  from  the  pure  light  in  which  he  had  been  brought  up.  Thus 
united,  they  sent  to  the  said  Poundtext  an  invitation,  or 
rather  a  summons,  to  attend  a  council  at  Tillietudlem.  He 
remembered,  however,  that  the  door  had  an  iron  grate  and 
the  keep  a  dungeon,  and  resolved  not  to  trust  himself  with 
his  incensed  colleagues.  He  therefore  retreated,  or  rather 
fled,  to  Hamilton,  with  the  tidings  that  Burley,  Macbriar, 
and  Kettledrummle  were  coming  to  Hamilton  as  soon  as  they 
could  collect  a  body  of  Cameronians  sufficient  to  overawe  the 
rest  ol  the  army. 

''And  ye  see,"  concluded  Poundtext,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
"  that  they  will  then  possess  a  majority  in  the  council  ;  for 
Langcale,  though  he  has  always  passed  for  one  of  the  honest 
and  rational  party,  cannot  be  suitably  or  preceesely  termed 
either  fish,  or  flesh,  or  gude  red-herring ;  whoever  has  the 
stronger  party  has  Langcale." 

Thus  concluded  the  heavy  narrative  of  honest  Poundtext, 
who  sighed  deeply,  as  he  considered  the  danger  in  which  he 


OLD  MORTALITY  269 

was  placed  betwixt  unreasonable  adversaries  among  them- 
selves, and  the  common  enemy  from  without.  Morton  ex- 
horted him  to  patience,  temper,  and  composure  ;  informed 
hi  n  of  the  good  hope  he  had  of  negotiating  for  peace  and  in- 
demnity through  means  of  Lord  Evandale,  and  made  out  to 
him  a  very  fair  prospect  that  he  should  again  return  to  his  own 
parchment-bound  Calvin,  his  evening  pipe  of  tobacco,  and  his 
noggin  of  inspiring  ale,  providing  always  he  would  afford  his 
effectual  support  and  concurrence  to  the  measures  which  he, 
Morton,  had  taken  for  a  general  pacification.*  Thus  backed 
and  comforted,  Poundtext  resolved  magnanimously  to  await 
the  coming  of  the  Cameronians  to  the  general  rendezvous. 

Burley  and  his  confederates  had  drawn  together  a  consider- 
able body  of  these  sectaries,  amounting  to  a  hundred  horse  and 
about  fifteen  hundred  foot,  clouded  and  severe  in  aspect,  mo- 
rose and  jealous  in  communication,  haughty  of  heart,  and  con- 
fident, as  men  who  believed  that  the  pale  of  salvation  was 
open  for  them  exclusively,  while  all  other  Christians,  however 
slight  were  the  shades  of  difference  of  doctrine  from  their  own, 
were  in  fact  little  better  than  outcasts  or  reprobates.  These 
men  entered  the  Presbyterian  camp  rather  as  dubious  and  sus- 
picious allies,  or  possibly  antagonists,  than  as  men  who  were 
heartily  embarked  in  the  same  cause,  and  exposed  to  the  same 
dangers,  with  their  more  moderate  brethren  in  arms.  Burley 
made  no  private  visits  to  his  colleagues,  and  held  no  com- 
munication with  them  on  the  subject  of  the  public  affairs, 
otherwise  than  by  sending  a  dry  invitation  to  them  to  attend 
a  meeting  of  the  general  council  for  that  evening. 

On  the  arrival  of  Morton  and  Poundtext  at  the  place  of 
assembly  they  found  their  brethren  already  seated.  Slight 
greeting  passed  between  them,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  no 
amicable  conference  was  intended  by  those  who  convoked  the 
council.  The  first  question  was  put  by  Macbriar,  the  sharp 
eagerness  of  whose  zeal  urged  him  to  the  van  on  all  occasions. 
He  desired  to  know  by  whose  authority  the  Malignant  called 
Lord  Evandale  had  been  freed  from  the  doom  of  death  justly 
denounced  against  him. 

"  By  my  authority  and  Mr.  Morton's,"  replied  Poundtext, 
who,  besides  being  anxious  to  give  his  companion  a  good  opin- 
ion of  his  courage,  confided  heartily  in  his  support,  and,  more- 
over, had  much  less  fear  of  encountering  one  of  his  own 
profession,  and  who  confined  himself  to  the  weapons  of  theo- 
logical controversy,  in  which  Poundtext  feared  no  man,  than 
of  entering  into  debate  with  the  stern  homicide  Balfour. 

♦  See  Moderate  Presbyterians.    Note  98. 


270  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''And  who,  brother/'  said  Kettledrummle — ''who  gave 
you  authority  to  interpose  in  such  a  high  matter  ?" 

"The  tenor  of  our  commission,"  answered  Poundtext, 
"  gives  us  authority  to  bind  and  to  loose.  If  Lord  Evandale 
was  justly  doomed  to  die  by  the  voice  of  one  of  our  number,  he 
was  of  a  surety  lawfully  redeemed  from  death  by  the  warrant 
of  two  of  us/' 

"  Go  to,  go  to,"  said  Burley  ;  "we  know  your  motives  :  it 
was  to  send  that  silkworm,  that  gilded  trinket,  that  embroi- 
dered trifle  of  a  lord  to  bear  terms  of  peace  to  the  tyrant." 

"It  was  so,"  replied  Morton,  who  saw  his  companion 
begin  to  flinch  before  the  fierce  eye  of  Balfour — "  it  was  so  ; 
and  what  then  ?  Are  we  to  plunge  the  nation  in  endless  war 
in  order  to  pursue  schemes  which  are  equally  wild,  wicked, 
and  unattainable  ?" 

"  Hear  him  !"  said  Balfour  ;  "  he  blasphemeth." 

"  It  is  false,"  said  Morton  ;  "  they  blaspheme  who  pretend 
to  expect  miracles,  and  neglect  the  use  of  the  human  means 
with  which  Providence  has  blessed  them.  I  repeat  it — Our 
avowed  object  is  the  re-establishment  of  peace  on  fair  and 
honorable  terms  of  security  to  our  religion  and  our  liberty. 
We  disclaim  any  desire  to  tyrannize  over  those  of  others." 

The  debate  would  now  have  run  higher  than  ever,  but 
they  were  interrupted  by  intelligence  that  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth had  commenced  his  march  towards  the  west,  and  was 
already  advanced  half-way  from  Edinburgh.  This  news  si- 
lenced their  divisions  for  the  moment,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  the  next  day  should  be  held  as  a  fast  of  general  humilia- 
tion for  the  sins  of  the  land  ;  that  the  Eeverend  Mr.  Pound- 
text  should  preach  to  the  army  in  the  morning,  and  Ket- 
tledrummle in  the  afternoon  ;  that  neither  should  touch  upon 
any  topics  of  schism  or  of  division,  but  animate  the  soldiers 
to  resist  to  the  blood,  like  brethren  in  a  good  cause.  This 
healing  overture  having  been  agreed  to,  the  Moderate  party 
ventured  upon  another  proposal,  confiding  that  it  would  have 
the  support  of  Langcale,  who  looked  extremely  blank  at  the 
news  which  they  had  just  received,  and  might  be  supposed 
reconverted  to  Moderate  measures.  It  was  to  be  presumed, 
they  said,  that  since  the  king  had  not  intrusted  the  command 
of  his  forces  upon  the  present  occasion  to  any  of  their  active 
oppressors,  but,  on  the  contrary,  had  employed  a  nobleman 
distinguished  by  gentleness  of  temper  and  a  disposition  favor- 
able to  their  cause,  there  must  be  some  better  intention  en- 
tertained towards  them  than  they  had  yet  experienced.  They 
contended  that  it  was  not  only  prudent  but  necessary  to  aS' 


OLD  MORTALITY  271 

certain,  from  a  communication  with  the  Duke  of  Monmouth, 
whether  he  was  not  charged  with  some  secret  instructions  in 
their  favor.  This  could  only  be  learned  by  despatching  an 
envoy  to  his  army. 

''And  who  will  undertake  the  task  ?"  said  Burley,  evad- 
ing a  proposal  too  reasonable  to  be  openly  resisted — ''who  will 
go  up  to  their  camp,  knowing  that  John  Grahame  of  Claver- 
house  hath  sworn  to  hang  up  whomsoever  we  shall  despatch 
towards  them,  in  revenge  of  the  death  of  the  young  man  his 
nephew  ?  " 

"Let  that  be  no  obstacle,^'  said  Morton;  "I  will  with 
pleasure  encounter  any  risk  attached  to  the  bearer  of  your  er- 
rand.'' 

' '  Let  him  go,"  said  Balfour,  apart  to  Macbriar ;  "  our  coun- 
cils will  be  well  rid  of  his  presence." 

The  motion,  therefore,  received  no  contradiction  even  from 
those  who  were  expected  to  have  been  most  active  in  opposing 
it;  and  it  was  agreed  that  Henry  Morton  should  go  to  the 
camp  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  in  order  to  discover  upon 
what  terms  the  insurgents  would  be  admitted  to  treat  with 
him.  As  soon  as  his  errand  was  made  known  several  of  the 
more  Moderate  party  joined  in  requesting  him  to  make  terms 
upon  the  footing  of  the  petition  intrusted  to  Lord  Evandale's 
hands ;  for  the  approach  of  the  king's  army  spread  a  general 
trepidation,  by  no  means  allayed  by  the  high  tone  assumed  by 
the  Cameronians,  which  had  so  little  to  support  it  excepting 
their  own  headlong  zeal.  With  these  instructions,  and  with 
Cuddie  as  his  attendant,  Morton  set  forth  towards  the  royal 
camp,  at  all  the  risks  which  attend  those  who  assume  the 
office  of  mediator  during  the  heat  of  civil  discord. 

Morton  had  not  proceeded  six  or  seven  miles  before  he  per- 
ceived that  he  was  on  the  point  of  falling  in  with  the  van  of 
the  royal  forces ;  and,  as  he  ascended  a  height,  saw  all  the 
roads  in  the  neighborhood  occupied  by  armed  men  marching 
in  great  order  towards  Bothwell  Muir,  an  open  common,  on 
which  they  proposed  to  encamp  for  that  evening,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  scarcely  two  miles  from  the  Clyde,  on  the  further  side 
of  which  river  the  army  of  the  insurgents  was  encamped.  He 
gave  himself  up  to  the  first  advanced  guard  of  cavalry  which 
he  met,  as  bearer  of  a  flag  of  truce,  and  communicated  his 
desire  to  obtain  access  to  the  Duke  of  Monmouth.  The  non- 
commissioned officer  who  commanded  the  party  made  his  re- 
port to  his  superior,  and  he  again  to  another  in  still  higher 
command,  and  both  immediately  rode  to  the  spot  where  Mor- 
ton was  detained. 


272  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  You  are  bat  losing  your  time,  my  friend,  and  risking 
your  life,''  said  one  of  them,  addressing  Morton  ;  "the  Duke 
of  Monmouth  will  receive  no  terms  from  traitors  with  arms 
in  their  hands,  and  your  cruelties  have  been  such  as  to  author- 
ize retaliation  of  every  kind.  Better  trot  your  nag  back  and 
save  his  mettle  to-day,  that  he  may  save  your  life  to-morrow/' 

''I  cannot  think,"  said  Morton,  "that,  even  if  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth  should  consider  us  as  criminals,  he  would  con- 
demn so  large  a  body  of  his  fellow-subjects  without  even  hear- 
ing what  they  have  to  plead  for  themselves.  On  my  part  I 
fear  nothing.  I  am  conscious  of  having  consented  to,  or  au- 
thorized, no  cruelty,  and  the  fear  of  suffering  innocently  for 
the  crimes  of  others  shall  not  deter  me  from  executing  my 
commission." 

The  two  officers  looked  at  each  other. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  said  the  younger,  "that  this  is  the  young 
man  of  whom  Lord  Evandale  spoke." 

"Is  my  Lord  Evandale  in  the  army  ?"  said  Morton. 

"He  is  not,"  replied  the  officer  ;  "we  left  him  at  Edin- 
burgh, too  much  indisposed  to  take  the  field.  Your  name, 
sir,  I  presume,  is  Henry  Morton  ?  " 

"It  is,  sir,"  answered  Morton. 

"  We  will  not  oppose  your  seeing  the  Duke,  sir,"  said  the 
officer,  with  more  civility  of  manner;  "but  you  may  assure 
yourself  it  will  be  to  no  purpose ;  for,  were  his  Grace  dis- 
posed to  favor  your  people,  others  are  joined  in  commission 
with  him  who  will  hardly  consent  to  his  doing  so." 

"  I  shall  be  sorry  to  find  it  thus,"  said  Morton  ;  "  but  my 
duty  requires  that  I  should  persevere  in  my  desire  to  have  an 
interview  with  him." 

"  Lumley,"  said  the  superior  officer,  "  let  the  Duke  know 
of  Mr.  Morton's  arrival,  and  remind  his  Grace  that  this  is 
the  person  of  whom  Lord  Evandale  spoke  so  highly/' 

Tiie  officer  returned  with  a  message  that  the  General  could 
not  see  Mr.  Morton  that  evening,  but  would  receive  him  by 
times  in  the  ensuing  morning.  He  was  detained  in  a  neigh- 
boring cottage  all  night,  but  treated  with  civility,  and  every- 
thing provided  for  his  accommodation. 

Early  on  the  next  morning  the  officer  he  had  first  seen 
came  to  conduct  him  to  his  audience.  The  army  was  drawn 
out,  and  in  the  act  of  forming  cohimn  for  march,  or  attack. 
The  Duke  was  in  the  centre,  nearly  a  mile  from  the  place 
where  Morton  had  passed  the  night.  In  riding  towards  the 
General,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  estimating  the  force  which 
had  been  assembled  lor  the  suppression  of  the  hasty  and  ill- 


OLD  MORTALITY  273 

concerted  insurrection.  There  were  three  or  four  regiments 
of  English,  the  flower  of  Charles's  army  ;  there  were  the  Scot- 
tish Life  Guards,  burning  with  desire  to  revenge  their  late 
defeat ;  other  Scottish  regiments  of  regulars  were  also  assem- 
bled ;  and  a  large  body  of  cavalry,  consisting  partly  of  gen- 
tlemen volunteers,  partly  of  the  tenants  of  the  crown  who  did 
military  duty  for  their  fiefs.  Morton  also  observed  several 
strong  parties  of  Highlanders  drawn  from  the  points  nearest 
to  the  Lowland  frontiers,  a  people,  as  already  mentioned,  par- 
ticularly obnoxious  to  the  western  Whigs,  and  who  hated  and 
despised  them  in  the  same  proportion.  These  were  assembled 
under  their  chiefs,  and  made  part  of  this  formidable  array. 
A  complete  train  of  field  artillery  accompanied  these  troops  ; 
and  the  whole  had  an  air  so  imposing  that  it  seemed  nothing 
short  of  an  actual  miracle  could  prevent  the  ill-equipped,  ill- 
modelled,  and  tumultuary  army  of  the  insurgents  from  being 
utterly  destroyed.  The  officer  who  accompanied  Morton  en- 
deavored to  gather  from  his  looks  the  feelings  with  which 
this  splendid  and  awful  parade  of  military  force  had  impressed 
Iiim.  But,  true  to  the  cause  he  had  espoused,  be  labored  suc- 
cessfully to  prevent  the  anxiety  which  he  felt  from  appearing 
in  his  countenance,  and  looked  around  him  on  the  warlike 
display  as  on  a  sight  which  he  expected,  and  to  which  he  was 
indifferent. 

'^  You  see  the  entertainment  prepared  for  you,^'  said  the 
officer. 

''  If  I  had  no  appetite  for  it,^'  replied  Morton,  ''  I  should 
not  have  been  accompanying  you  at  this  moment.  But  I 
shall  be  better  pleased  with  a  more  peaceful  regale,  for  the 
sake  of  all  parties.^' 

As  they  spoke  thus,  they  approached  the  commander-in- 
chief,  who,  surrounded  by  several  officers,  was  seated  upon  a 
knoll  commanding  an  extensive  prospect  of  the  distant  country, 
and  from  which  could  be  easily  discovered  the  w^indings  of 
the  majestic  Clyde,  and  the  distant  camp  of  the  insurgents 
on  the  opposite  bank.  The  officers  of  the  royal  army  appeared 
to  be  surveying  the  ground,  with  the  purpose  of  directing  an 
immediate  attack.  When  Captain  Lumley,  the  officer  who 
accompanied  Morton,  had  whispered  in  Monmouth^s  ear  his 
name  and  errand,  the  Duke  made  a  signal  for  all  around  him 
to  retire,  excepting  only  two  general  officers  of  distinction. 
While  they  spoke  together  in  whispers  for  a  few  minutes  before 
Morton  was  permitted  to  advance,  he  had  time  to  study  the 
appearance  of  the  persons  with  whom  he  was  to  treat. 

It  was  impossible  for  any  one  to  look  upon  the  Duke  of 


274  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Monmouth  without  being  captivated  by  his  personal  graces 
and  accomplishments,  of  which  the  great  High  Priest  of  all 
the  Nine  ^terwards  recorded — 

Whate'er  he  did  was  done  with  bo  much  ease, 
In  him  alone  'twas  natural  to  please  ; 
His  motions  all  accompanied  with  grace, 
And  Paradise  was  open'd  in  his  face.* 

Yet  to  a  strict  observer  the  manly  beauty  of  Monmouth's  face 
was  occasionally  rendered  less  striking  by  an  air  of  vacillation 
and  uncertainty,  which  seemed  to  imply  hesitation  and 
doubt  at  moments  when  decisive  resolution  was  most  neces- 
sary. 

Beside  him  stood  Claverhouse,  whom  we  have  already 
fully  described,  and  another  general  officer  whose  appear- 
ance was  singularly  strikingi  His  dress  was  of  the  antique 
fashion  of  Charles  the  First's  time,  and  composed  of  chamois 
leather,  curiously  slashed,  and  covered  with  antique  lace  and 
garniture.  His  boots  and  spurs  might  be  referred  to  the 
S-ime  distant  period.  He  wore  a  breastplate,  over  which  de- 
scended a  gray  beard  of  venerable  length,  which  he  cherished 
a?  a  mark  of  mourning  for  Charles  the  First,  having  never 
shaved  since  that  monarch  was  brought  to  the  scaffold.  His 
head  was  uncovered,  and  almost  perfectly  bald.  His  high 
and  wrinkled  forehead,  piercing  gray  eyes,  and  marked  feat- 
ures evinced  age  unbroken  by  infirmity,  and  stern  resolu- 
tion unsoftened  by  humanity.  Such  is  the  outline,  however 
feebly  expressed,  of  the  celebrated  General  Thomas  Dalzell,f 
a  man  more  feared  and  hated  by  the  Whigs  than  even  Claver- 
house  himself,  and  who  executed  the  same  violences  against 
them  out  of  a  detestation  of  their  persons,  or  perhaps  an  in- 
nate severity  of  temper,  which  Grahame  only  resorted  to  on 
f)olitical  accounts,  as  the  best  means  of  intimidating  the  fol- 
owers  of  Presbytery,  and  of  destroying  that  sect  entirely. 

The  presence  of  these  two  generals,  one  of  whom  he  knew 
by  person  and  the  other  by  description,  seemed  to  Morton 
decisive  of  the  fate  of  his  embassy.  But,  notwithstanding 
his  youth  and  inexperience,  and  the  unfavorable  reception 
which  his  proposals  seemed  likely  to  meet  with,  he  advanced 
boldly  towards  them  upon  receiving  a  signal  to  that  purpose, 
determined  that  the  cause  of  his  country,  and  of  those  with 
whom  he  had  taken  up  arms,  should  suffer  nothing  from 
being  intrusted  to  him.     Monmouth  received  him  with  the 

*  Dryden's  AbMlom  and  Achitophel  CLaing). 
t8*eNoU». 


OLD  MORTALITY  m 

graceful  courtesy  which  attended  even  his  slightest  actions ; 
Dalzell  regarded  him  with  a  stem,  gloomy,  and  impatient 
frown  ;  and  Claverhouse,  with  a  sarcastic  smile  and  inclina- 
tion of  his  head,  seemed  to  claim  him  as  an  old  acquaintance. 

''You  come,  sir,  from  these  unfortunate  people  now  as- 
sembled in  arms,^'  said  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  ''and  your 
name,  I  believe,  is  Morton  ;  will  you  favor  us  with  the  pur- 
port of  your  errand  ?  " 

"  It  is  contained,  my  lord,''  answered  Morton,  "  in  a  pa- 

£er,  termed  a  Remonstrance  and  Supplication,  which  my 
lord  Evandale  has  placed,  I  presume,  in  your  Grace's  hands  ?" 
"  He  has  done  so,  sir,"  answered  the  Duke  ;  "and  I  un- 
derstand from  Lord  Evandale  that  Mr.  Morton  has  behaved 
in  these  unhappy  matters  with  much  temperance  and  gen- 
erosity, for  which  I  have  to  request  his  acceptance  of  my 
thanks." 

Here  Morton  observed  Dalzell  shake  his  head  indignantly 
and  whisper  something  into  Claverhouse's  ear,  who  smiled  in 
return,  and  elevated  his  eyebrows,  but  in  a  degree  so  slight  as 
scarce  to  be  perceptible.  The  Duke,  taking  the  petition  from 
his  pocket,  proceeded,  obviously  struggling  between  the  na- 
tive gentleness  of  his  own  disposition,  and  perhaps  his  con- 
viction that  the  petitioners  demanded  no  more  than  their 
rights,  and  the  desire,  on  the  other  hand,  of  enforcing  the 
king's  authority,  and  complying  with  the  sterner  opinions  of 
the  colleagues  in  office,  who  had  been  assigned  for  the  pur- 
pose of  controlling  as  well  as  advising  him. 

"  There  are,  Mr.  Morton,  in  this  paper,  proposals  as  to 
the  abstract  propriety  of  which  I  must  now  waive  delivering 
any  opinion.  Some  of  them  appear  to  me  reasonable  and 
just ;  and,  although  I  have  no  express  instructions  from  the 
King  upon  the  subject,  yet  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Morton,  and  I 
pledge  my  honor,  that  I  will  interpose  in  your  behalf,  and 
use  my  utmost  influence  to  procure  you  satisfaction  from  his 
Majesty.  But  you  must  distinctly  understand  that  I  can  only 
treat  with  supplicants,  not  with  rebels  ;  and,  as  a  preliminary 
to  every  act  of  favor  on  my  side,  I  must  insist  upon  your  fol- 
lowers laying  down  their  arms  and  dispersing  themselves." 

"  To  do  so,  my  Lord  Duke,"  replied  Morton,  undaunt- 
edly, "were  to  acknowledge  ourselves  the  rebels  that  our  ene- 
mies term  us.  Our  swords  are  drawn  for  recovery  of  a  birth- 
right wrested  from  us ;  your  Grace's  moderation  and  good 
sense  has  admitted  the  general  justice  of  our  demand — a  de- 
mand which  would  never  have  been  listened  to  had  it  not  been 
accompanied  with  the  sound  of  the  trumpet.     We  cannot. 


276  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

therefore,  and  dare  not,  lay  down  our  arms,  even  on  your 
Grace's  assurance  of  indemnity,  unless  it  were  accompanied 
with  some  reasonable  prospect  of  the  redress  of  the  wrongs 
which  we  complain  of/' 

^*Mr.  Morton,^'  replied  the  Duke,  ''you  are  young,  but 
you  must  have  seen  enough  of  the  world  to  perceive  that  re- 
quests, by  no  means  dangerous  or  unreasonable  in  themselves, 
may  become  so  by  the  way  in  which  they  are  pressed  and  sup- 
ported." 

"  We  may  reply,  my  lord,"  answered  Morton,  ''  that  this 
disagreeable  mode  has  not  been  resorted  to  until  all  others 
have  failed." 

''Mr.  Morton,"  said  the  Duke,  "I  must  break  this  con- 
ference short.  We  are  in  readiness  to  commence  the  attack  ; 
yet  I  will  suspend  it  for  an  hour,  until  you  can  communicate 
my  answer  to  the  insurgents.  If  they  please  to  disperse  their 
followers,  lay  down  their  arms,  and  send  a  peaceful  deputation 
to  me,  I  will  consider  myself  bound  in  honor  to  do  all  I  can  to 
procure  redress  of  their  grievances  ;  if  not,  let  them  stand  on 
their  guard  and  expect  the  consequences.  I  think,  gentle- 
men," he  added,  turning  to  his  two  colleagues,  "  this  is  the 
utmost  length  to  which  I  can  stretch  my  instructions  in 
favor  of  these  misguided  persons  ?  " 

"  By  my  faith,"  answered  Dalzell,  suddenly,  "  and  it  is  a 
length  to  which  my  poor  judgment  durst  not  have  stretched 
them,  considering  I  had  both  the  King  and  my  conscience  to 
answer  to  !  But,  doubtless,  your  Grace  knows  more  of  the 
King's  private  mind  than  we,  who  have  only  the  letter  of  our 
instructions  to  look  to." 

Monmouth  blushed  deeply.  "  You  hear,"  he  said,  ad- 
dressing Morton,  "  General  Dalzell  blames  me  for  the  length 
which  I  am  disposed  to  go  in  your  favor." 

"  General  Dalzell's  sentiments,  my  lord,"  replied  Morton, 
"are  such  as  we  expected  from  him;  your  Grace's  such  as  we 
were  prepared  to  hope  you  might  please  to  entertain.  In- 
deed, I  cannot  help  adding  that,  in  the  case  of  the  absolute 
submission  upon  which  you  are  pleased  to  insist,  it  might 
still  remain  something  less  than  doubtful  how  far,  with  such 
counsellors  around  the  King,  even  your  Grace's  intercession 
might  procure  us  effectual  relief.  But  I  will  communicate 
to  our  leaders  your  Grace's  answer  to  our  supplication  ;  and, 
since  we  cannot  obtain  peace,  we  must  bid  war  welcome  as 
well  as  we  may." 

"  Good  morning,  sir,"  said  the  Duke ;  "  I  suspend  the  move- 
ments of  attack  for  ojie  hour,  and  for  one  hour  only.     If  you 


OLD  MORTALITY  277 

have  an  answer  to  return  witliin  that  space  of  time,  I  will 
receive  it  here,  and  earnestly  entreat  it  may  be  such  as  to  save 
the  effusion  of  blood." 

At  this  moment  another  smile  of  deep  meaning  passed 
between  Dalzell  and  Claverhouse. 

The  Duke  observed  it,  and  repeated  his  words  with  great 
dignity.  *'  Yes,  gentlemen,  I  said  I  trusted  the  answer  might 
be  such  as  would  save  the  effusion  of  blood.  I  hope  the  senti- 
ment neither  needs  your  scorn  nor  incurs  your  displeasure." 

Dalzell  returned  the  Duke's  frown  with  a  stern  glance,  but 
made  no  answer.  Claverhouse,  his  lip  just  curled  with  an 
ironical  smile,  bowed,  and  said,  '^It  was  not  for  him  to  judge 
the  propriety  of  his  Grace's  sentiments." 

The  Duke  made  a  signal  to  Morton  to  withdraw.  He 
obeyed,  and,  accompanied  by  his  former  escort,  rode  slowly 
through  the  army  to  return  to  the  camp  of  the  nonconformists. 
As  he  passed  the  fine  corps  of  Life  Guards,  he  found  Claver- 
house was  already  at  their  head.  That  officer  no  sooner  saw 
Morton  than  he  advanced  and  addressed  him  with  perfect 
politeness  of  manner. 

"  I  think  this  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  seen  Mr.  Morton 
of  Milnwood  ?  " 

**  It  is  not  Colonel  Grahame's  fault,"  said  Morton,  smiling 
sternly,  ''  that  he  or  any  one  else  should  be  now  incommoded 
by  my  presence." 

''  Allow  ine  at  least  to  say,"  replied  Claverhouse, ''  that  Mr. 
Morton's  present  situation  authorizes  the  opinion  I  have  enter- 
tained of  him,  and  that  my  proceedings  at  our  last  meeting 
only  squared  to  my  duty." 

"  To  reconcile  your  actions  to  your  duty,  and  your  duty  to 
your  conscience,  is  your  business.  Colonel  Grahame,  not  mine," 
said  Morton,  justly  offended  at  being  thus,  in  a  manner,  re- 
quired to  approve  of  the  sentence  under  which  he  had  so  nearly 
suffered. 

**Nay,  but  stay  an  instant,"  said  Claverhouse;  ^* Evan- 
dale  insists  that  I  have  some  wrongs  to  acquit  myself  of  in  your 
instance.  I  trust  I  shall  always  make  some  difference  between 
a  high-minded  gentleman  who,  though  misguided,  acts  upon 
generous  principles  and  the  crazy  fanatical  clowns  yonder^ 
with  the  bloodthirsty  assassins  who  head  them.  Therefore, 
if  they  do  not  disperse  upon  your  return,  let  me  pray  you,  in- 
stantly come  over  to  our  army  and  surrender  yourself,  for,  be 
assured,  they  cannot  stand  our  assault  for  half  an  hour.  If 
you  will  be  ruled  and  do  this,  be  sure  to  inquire  for  me. 
Monmouth,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  cannot  protect  you ;  Dal- 


VtS  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

zell  will  not ;  I  both  can  and  will,  and  I  have  promised  to 
Evandale  to  do  so  if  you  will  give  me  an  opportunity/' 

"  I  should  owe  Lord  Evandale  my  thanks/'  answered  Mor- 
ton, coldly,  "  did  not  his  scheme  imply  an  opinion  that  I  might 
be  prevailed  on  to  desert  those  with  whom  I  am  engaged.  For 
you,  Colonel  Grahame,  if  you  will  honor  me  with  a  different 
species  of  satisfaction,  it  is  probable  that,  in  an  hour's  time, 
you  will  find  me  at  the  west  end  of  Bothwell  Bridge  with  my 
sword  in  my  hand." 

"  I  shall  be  happy  to  meet  you  there,"  said  Claverhouse, 
"  but  still  more  so  should  you  think  better  on  my  first  pro- 
posal." 

They  then  saluted  and  parted. 

"  That  is  a  pretty  lad,  Lumley,"  said  Claverhouse,  address- 
ing himself  to  the  other  officer ;  "  but  he  is  a  lost  man,  his 
blood  be  upon  his  head." 

So  saying,  he  addressed  himself  to  the  task  of  preparation 
for  instant  battle. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

But,  hark  !  the  tent  has  changed  its  voice. 
There's  peace  and  rest  nae  langer. 

BuBirg. 

The  Lowdien  mallisha  they 

Came  with  their  coats  of  blew  ; 
Five  hundred  men  from  London  came, 

Claid  in  a  reddish  hue. 

Bothwell  lAnes. 

When  Morton  had  left  the  well-ordered  outposts  of  the  reg- 
ular army,  and  arrived  at  those  which  were  maintained  by  his 
own  party,  he  could  not  but  be  peculiarly  sensible  of  the  dif- 
ference of  discipline,  and  entertain  a  proportional  degree  of 
fear  for  the  consequences.  The  same  discords  which  agitated 
the  counsels  of  the  insurgents  raged  even  among  their  mean- 
est followers ;  and  their  pickets  and  patrols  were  more  in- 
terested and  occupied  in  disputing  the  true  occasion  and 
causes  of  wrath,  and  defining  the  limits  of  Erastian  heresy, 
than  in  looking  out  for  and  observing  the  motions  of  their 
enemies,  though  within  hearing  of  the  royal  drums  and  trum- 
pets. 

There  was  a  guard,  however,  of  the  insurgent  army,  posted 
at  the  long  and  narrow  bridge  of  Bothwell,  over  which  the 
enemy  must  necessarily  advance  to  the  attack  ;  but,  like  the 
others,  they  were  divided  and  disheartened  ;  and  entertaining 
the  idea  that  they  were  posted  on  a  desperate  service,  they 
even  meditated  withdrawing  themselves  to  the  main  body. 
This  would  have  been  utter  ruin  ;  for  on  the  defense  or  loss 
Df  this  pass  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  most  likely  to  depend. 
All  beyond  the  bridge  was  a  plain  open  field,  excepting  a  few 
thickets  of  no  great  depth,  and,  consequently,  was  ground  on 
which  the  undisciplined  forces  of  the  insurgents,  deficient  as 
they  were  in  cavalry  and  totally  unprovided  with  artillery,  were 
altogether  unlikely  to  withstand  the  shock  of  regular  troops. 

Morton,  therefore,  viewed  the  pass  carefully,  and  formed 
the  hope  that,  by  occupying  two  or  three  houses  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  river,  with  the  copse  and  thickets  of  alders  and 
hazels  that  lined  its  side,  and  by  blockading  the  passage  itself. 

i879 


28«  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  shutting  the  gates  of  a  portal  which,  according  to  the  old 
fashion,  was  built  on  the  central  arch  of  the  Bridge  of  Both- 
well,  it  might  be  easily  defended  against  a  very  superior  force. 
He  issued  directions  accordingly,  and  commanded  the  parapets 
of  the  bridge,  on  the  further  side  of  the  portal,  to  be  thrown 
down,  that  they  might  afford  no  protection  to  the  enemy  when 
they  should  attempt  the  passage.  Morton  then  conjured  the 
party  at  this  important  post  to  be  watchful  and  upon  their 
guard,  and  promised  them  a  speedy  and  strong  reinforcement. 
He  caused  them  to  advance  videttes  beyond  the  river  to  watch 
the  progress  of  the  enemy,  which  outposts  he  directed  should 
be  withdrawn  to  the  left  bank  as  soon  as  they  approached ; 
finally,  he  charged  them  to  send  regular  information  to  the 
main  body  of  all  that  they  should  observe.  Men  under  arms, 
and  in  a  situation  of  danger,  are  usually  sufficiently  alert  in 
appreciating  the  merit  of  their  officers.  Morton^s  intelligence 
and  activity  gained  the  confidence  of  these  men,  and  with 
better  hope  and  heart  than  before,  they  began  to  fortify  their 
position  in  the  manner  he  recommended,  and  saw  him  depart 
with  three  loud  cheers. 

Morton  now  galloped  hastily  towards  the  main  body  of  the 
insurgents,  but  was  surprised  and  shocked  at  the  scene  of  con- 
fusion and  clamor  which  it  exhibited  at  the  moment  when 
good  order  and  concord  were  of  such  essential  consequence. 
Instead  of  being  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle  and  listening  to 
the  commands  of  their  officers,  they  were  crowding  together 
in  a  confused  mass,  that  rolled  and  agitated  itself  like  the 
waves  of  the  sea,  while  a  thousand  tongues  spoke,  or  rather 
vociferated,  and  not  a  single  ear  was  found  to  listen.  Scan- 
dalized at  a  scene  so  extraordinary,  Morton  endeavored  to  make 
his  way  through  the  press  to  learn,  and  if  possible  to  remove, 
the  cause  of  this  so  untimely  disorder.  Wliile  he  is  thus  en- 
gaged we  shall  make  the  reader  acquainted  with  that  which  he 
was  some  time  in  discovering. 

The  insurgents  had  proceeded  to  hold  their  day  of  humilia- 
tion, which,  agreeably  to  the  practice  of  the  Puritans  during 
the  earlier  Civil  War,  they  considered  as  the  most  effectual 
mode  of  solving  all  difficulties  and  waiving  all  discussions. 
It  was  usual  to  name  an  ordinary  week-day  for  this  purpose  ; 
but  on  this  occasion  the  Sabbath  itself  was  adopted,  owing  to 
the  pressure  of  the  time  and  the  vicinity  of  the  enemy.  A 
temporary  pulpit  or  tent  was  erected  in  the  middle  of  the  en- 
campment ;  which,  according  to  the  fixed  arrangement,  was 
first  to  be  occupied  by  the  Reverend  Peter  Pound  text,  to 
whom  the  post  of  honor  was  assigned  as  the  eldest  clergyman 


OLD  MORTALITY  281 

present.  But  as  the  worthy  divine,  with  slow  and  stately 
steps,  was  advancing  towards  the  rostrum  which  had  been 
prepared  for  him,  he  was  prevented  by  the  unexpected  ap- 
parition of  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath,  the  insane  preacher, 
whose  appearance  had  so  much  startled  Morton  at  the  first 
council  of  the  insurgents  after  their  victory  at  Loudon  Hill. 
It  is  not  known  whether  he  was  acting  under  the  influence 
and  instigation  of  the  Cameronians,  or  whether  he  was  merely 
compelled  by  his  own  agitated  imagination  and  the  tempta- 
tion of  a  vacant  pulpit  before  him,  to  seize  the  opportunity 
of  exhorting  so  respectable  a  congregation.  It  is  only  certain 
that  he  took  occasion  by  the  forelock,  sprang  into  the  pulpit, 
cast  his  eyes  wildly  round  him,  and,  undismayed  by  the  mur- 
murs of  many  of  the  audience,  opened  the  Bible,  read  forth 
as  his  text  from  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  Deuteronomy, 
''Certain  men,  the  children  of  Belial,  are  gone  out  from 
among  you,  and  have  withdrawn  the  inhabitants  of  their  city, 
saying.  Let  us  go  and  serve  otlier  gods,  which  you  have  not 
known  ;  "  and  then  rushed  at  once  into  the  midst  of  his  sub- 
ject. 

The  harangue  of  Mucklewrath  was  as  wild  and  extrava- 
gant as  his  intrusion  was  unauthorized  and  untimely  ;  but  it 
was  provokingly  coherent,  in  so  far  as  it  turned  entirely  upon 
the  very  subjects  of  discord  of  which  it  had  been  agreed  to 
adjourn  the  consideration  until  some  more  suitable  oppor- 
tunity. Not  a  single  topic  did  he  omit  which  had  offence  in 
it ;  and,  after  charging  the  Moderate  party  with  heresy,  with 
crouching  to  tyranny,  with  seeking  to  be  at  peace  with  God's 
enemies,  he  applied  to  Morton  by  name  the  charge  that  he 
had  been  one  of  those  men  of  Belial  who,  in  the  words  of  his 
text,  had  gone  out  from  among  them,  to  withdraw  the  in- 
habitants of  his  city,  and  to  go  astray  after  false  gods.  To 
him,  and  all  who  followed  him  or  approved  of  his  conduct, 
Mucklewrath  denounced  fury  and  vengeance,  and  exhorted 
those  who  would  hold  themselves  pure  and  undefiled  to  come 
up  from  the  midst  of  them. 

^'  Fear  not,"  he  said,  ''  because  of  the  neighing  of  horses 
or  the  glittering  of  breastplates.  Seek  not  aid  of  the  Egyp- 
tians, because  of  the  enemy,  though  they  may  be  numerous  as 
locusts  and  fierce  as  dragons.  Their  trust  is  not  as  our  trusty 
nor  their  rock  as  our  rock  ;  how  else  shall  a  thousand  fly  be- 
fore one,  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to  the  flight  ?  I  dreamed 
it  in  the  visions  of  the  night,  and  the  voice  said,  *  Habakkuk, 
take  thy  fan  and  purge  the  wheat  from  the  chaff,  that  they 
be  not  both  consumed  with  the  fire  of  indignation  and  the 


282  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lightning  of  fury/  Wherefore,  I  say,  take  this  Henry  Mor- 
ton— this  wretched  Achan,  who  hath  brought  the  accursed 
thing  among  ye,  and  made  himself  brethren  in  the  camp  of 
the  enemy — take  him  and  stone  him  with  stones,  and  there- 
after burn  him  with  fire,  that  the  wrath  may  depart  from  the 
children  of  the  Covenant.  He  hath  not  taken  a  Babylonish 
garment,  but  he  hath  sold  the  garment  of  righteousness  to  the 
woman  of  Babylon  ;  he  hath  not  taken  two  hundred  shekels 
of  fine  silver,  but  he  hath  bartered  the  truth,  which  is  more 
precious  than  shekels  of  silver  or  wedges  of  gold." 

At  this  furious  charge,  brought  so  unexpectedly  against 
one  of  their  most  active  commanders,  the  audience  broke  out 
into  open  tumult,  some  demanding  that  there  should  instantly 
be  a  new  election  of  officers,  into  which  office  none  should 
hero  if  ter  be  admitted  who  had,  in  their  phrase,  touched  of 
that  which  was  accursed,  or  temporized  more  or  less  with  the 
heresies  and  corruptions  of  the  times.  While  such  was  the 
demand  of  the  Cameronians,  they  vociferated  loudly  that 
those  who  were  not  with  them  were  against  them  ;  that  it  was 
no  time  to  relinquish  the  substantial  part  of  the  covenanted 
testimony  of  the  church  if  they  expected  a  blessing  on  their 
arms  and  their  cause ;  and  that,  in  their  eyes,  a  lukewarm 
Presbyterian  was  little  better  than  a  Prelatist,  an  An ti- Cov- 
enanter, and  a  Nullifidian. 

The  parties  accused  repelled  the  charge  of  criminal  com- 
pliance and  defection  from  the  truth  with  scorn  and  indigna- 
tion, and  charged  their  accusers  with  breach  of  faith,  as  well 
as  with  wrong-headed  and  extravagant  zeal  in  introducing 
such  divisions  into  an  army  the  joint  strength  of  which  could 
not,  by  the  most  sanguine,  be  judged  more  than  sufficient  to 
face  their  enemies.  Poundtext  and  one  or  two  others  made 
some  faint  efforts  to  stem  the  increasing  fury  of  the  factious, 
exclaiming  to  those  of  the  other  party,  in  the  words  of  the 
Patriarch — '^  Let  there  be  no  strife,  I  pray  thee,  between  me 
and  thee,  and  between  thy  herdsmen  and  my  herdsmen,  for 
we  be  brethren."  No  pacific  overture  could  possibly  obtain 
audience.  It  was  in  vain  that  even  Burley  himself,  when  he 
saw  the  dissension  proceed  to  such  ruinous  lengths,  exerted 
his  stern  and  deep  voice,  commanding  silence  and  obedience 
to  discipline.  The  spirit  of  insubordination  had  gone  forth, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  the  exhortation  of  Habakkuk  Muckle- 
wrath  had  communicated  a  part  of  his  frenzy  to  all  who 
heard  him.  The  wiser,  or  more  timid,  part  of  the  assembly 
were  already  withdrawing  themselves  from  the  field,  and  giv- 
ing up  their  cause  as  lost.     Others  were  moderating  a  har- 


OLD  MORTALITY  288 

monious  call,  as  they  somewhat  improperly  termed  it,  to  new 
officers,  and  dismissing  those  formerly  chosen,  and  that 
with  a  tumult  and  clamor  worthy  of  the  deficiency  of  good 
sense  and  good  order  implied  in  the  whole  transaction.  It 
was  at  this  moment,  when  Morton  arrived  in  the  field  and 
joined  the  army,  in  total  confusion,  and  on  the  point  of  dis- 
solving itself.  His  arrival  occasioned  loud  exclamations  of 
applause  on  the  one  side  and  of  imprecation  on  the  other. 

^'  What  means  this  ruinous  disorder  at  such  a  moment  ?  '* 
he  exclaimed  to  Burley,  who,  exhausted  with  his  vain  exer- 
tions to  restore  order,  was  now  leaning  on  his  sword  and  re- 
garding the  confusion  with  an  eye  of  resolute  despair. 

"  It  means, ^'  he  replied,  "that  God  has  delivered  us  into 
the  hands  of  our  enemies." 

"  Not  so,"  answered  Morton,  with  a  voice  and  gesture 
which  compelled  many  to  listen  ;  "  it  is  not  God  who  deserts 
us,  it  is  we  who  desert  Him,  and  dishonor  ourselves  by  dis- 
gracing and  betraying  the  cause  of  freedom  and  religion. 
Hear  me,  "  he  exclaimed,  springing  to  the  pulpit  which  Muckle- 
wrath  had  been  compelled  to  evacuate  by  actual  exhaustion — 
'^I  bring  from  the  enemy  an  offer  to  treat,  if  you  incline  to 
lay  down  your  arms.  I  can  assure  you  the  means  of  making 
an  honorable  defence,  if  you  are  of  more  manly  tempers. 
The  time  flies  fast  on.  Let  us  resolve  either  for  peace  or  war ; 
and  let  it  not  be  said  of  us,  in  future  days,  that  six  thousand 
Scottish  men  in  arms  had  neither  courage  to  stand  their  ground 
and  fight  it  out,  nor  prudence  to  treat  for  peace,  nor  even 
the  coward's  wisdom  to  retreat  in  good  time  and  with  safety. 
What  signifies  quarrelling  on  minute  points  of  church  disci- 
pline, when  the  whole  edifice  is  threatened  with  total  destruc- 
tion ?  0,  remember,  my  brethren,  that  the  last  and  worst 
evil  which  God  brought  upon  the  people  whom  He  had  once 
chosen — the  last  and  worst  punishment  of  their  blindness  and 
hardness  of  heart — was  the  bloody  dissensions  which  rent 
asunder  their  city,  even  when  the  enemy  were  thundering  at 
its  gates ! " 

Some  of  the  audience  testified  their  feeling  of  this  exhorta- 
tion by  loud  exclamations  of  applause  ;  others  by  hooting  and 
exclaiming — "  To  your  tents,  0  Israel  !" 

Morton,  who  beheld  the  columns  of  the  enemy  already 
beginning  to  appear  on  the  right  bank,  and  directing  their 
march  upon  the  bridge,  raised  his  voice  to  its  utmost  pitch, 
and,  pointing  at  the  same  time  with  his  hand,  exclaimed, 
"'  Silence  your  senseless  clamors,  yonder  is  the  enemy  !  On 
maintaining  the  bridge  against  him  depend  our  lives,  as  well 


384  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  our  hope  to  reclaim  our  laws  and  liberties.  There  shall  at 
least  one  Scottish  man  die  in  their  defence.  Let  any  one  who 
loves  his  country  follow  me  !  " 

The  multitude  had  turned  their  heads  in  the  direction  to 
which  he  pointed.  The  sight  of  the  glittering  files  of  the 
English  Foot  Guards,  supported  by  several  squadrons  of  horse, 
of  the  cannon  which  the  artillerymen  were  busily  engaged  in 
planting  against  the  bridge,  of  the  plaided  clans  who  seemed 
to  search  for  a  ford,  and  of  the  long  succession  of  troops 
which  were  destined  to  support  the  attack,  silenced  at  once 
their  clamorous  uproar,  and  struck  them  with  as  much  con- 
sternation as  if  it  were  an  unexpected  apparition,  and  not  the 
very  thing  which  they  ought  to  have  been  looking  out  for. 
They  gazed  on  each  other  and  on  their  leaders  with  looks  re- 
sembling those  that  indicate  the  weakness  of  a  patient  when  ex- 
hausted by  a  fit  of  frenzy.  Yet  when  Morton,  springing  from 
the  rostrum,  directed  his  steps  towards  the  bridge,  he  was 
followed  by  about  a  hundred  of  the  young  men  who  were 
particularly  attached  to  his  command. 

Burley  turned  to  Macbriar.  *'  Ephraim,*'  he  said,  '*  it  is 
Providence  points  us  the  way,  through  the  worldly  wisdom  of 
this  latitudinarian  youth.  He  that  loves  the  light,  let  him 
follow  Burley ! '' 

"  Tarry, '^  replied  Macbriar ;  '^  it  is  not  by  Henry  Morton, 
or  such  as  he,  that  our  goings-out  and  our  comings-in  are  to 
be  meted  ;  therefore  tarry  with  us.  I  fear  treachery  to  the 
host  fro  m  this  Nullifidian  Achan.  Thou  shalt  not  go  with  him. 
Thou  art  our  chariots  and  our  horsemen.^' 

''  Hinder  me  not,"  replied  Burley  ;  ^'  he  hath  well  said  that 
all  is  lost  if  the  enemy  win  the  bridge  ;  therefore  let  me  not. 
Shall  the  children  of  this  generation  be  called  wiser  or  braver 
than  the  children  of  the  sanctuary  ?  Array  yourselves  under 
your  leaders  ;  let  us  not  lack  supplies  of  men  and  ammunition  ; 
and  accursed  be  he  who  turneth  back  from  the  work  on  this 
great  day ! " 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  hastily  marched  towards  the  bridge, 
and  was  followed  by  about  two  hundred  of  the  most  gallant 
and  zealous  of  his  party.  There  was  a  deep  and  disheartened 
pause  when  Morton  and  Burley  departed.  The  commanders 
availed  themselves  of  it  to  display  their  lines  in  some  sort  of 
order,  and  exhorted  those  who  were  most  exposed  to  throw 
themselves  upon  their  faces  to  avoid  the  cannonade  which  they 
might  presently  expect.  The  insurgents  ceased  to  resist  or  to 
remonstrate ;  but  the  awe  which  had  silenced  their  discords 
had  dismayed  their  courage.     They  suffered  themselves  to  be 


OLD  MORTALITY  285 

formed  into  ranks  with  the  docility  of  a  flock  of  sheep,  but 
without  possessing,  for  the  time,  more  resolution  or  energy ; 
for  they  experienced  a  sinking  of  the  heart,  imposed  by  the 
sudden  and  imminent  approach  of  the  danger  which  they  had 
negbcted  to  provide  against  while  it  was  yet  distant.  They 
were,  however,  drawn  out  with  some  regularity  ;  and  as  they 
still  possessed  the  appearance  of  an  army,  their  leaders  had 
only  to  hope  that  some  favorable  circumstance  would  restore 
their  spirits  and  courage. 

Kettledrummle,  Poundtext,  Macbriar,  and  other  preachers 
busied  themselves  in  their  ranks,  and  prevailed  on  them  to 
raise  a  psalm.  But  the  superstitious  among  them  observed, 
as  an  ill  omen,  that  their  song  of  praise  and  triumph  sunk  into 
''a  quaver  of  consternation,''  and  resembled  rather  a  peniten- 
tiary stave  sung  on  the  scaffold  of  a  condemned  criminal  than 
the  bold  strain  which  had  resounded  along  the  wild  heath  of 
Loudon  Hill  in  anticipation  of  that  day's  victory.  The  melan- 
choly melody  soon  received  a  rough  accompaniment ;  the  royal 
soldiers  shouted,  the  Highlanders  yelled,  the  cannon  began  to 
fire  on  one  side,  and  the  musketry  on  both,  and  the  Bridge 
of  Both  well,  with  the  banks  adjacent,  wer©  involved  in  wreaths 
of  smoke. 


!  :^!|vu.i 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

As  e'er  ye  saw  the  rain  doun  fa', 

Or  yet  the  arrow  from  the  bow, 
Sae  our  Scots  lads  fell  even  down, 

And  they  lay  slain  on  every  knowe. 

Old  Ballad. 

Ebe  Morton  or  Burley  had  reached  the  post  to  be  defended, 
the  enemy  had  commenced  an  attack  upon  it  with  great  spirit. 
The  two  regiments  of  Foot  Guards,  formed  into  a  close  col- 
umn, rushed  forward  to  the  river  ;  one  corps,  deploying  along 
the  right  bank,  commenced  a  galling  fire  on  the  defenders  of 
the  pass,  while  the  other  pressed  on  to  occupy  the  bridge. 
The  insurgents  sustained  the  attack  with  great  constancy  and 
courage  ;  and  while  part  of  their  number  returned  the  fire 
across  the  river,  the  rest  maintained  a  discharge  of  musketry 
upon  the  further  end  of  the  bridge  itself,  and  every  avenue 
by  which  the  soldiers  endeavored  to  approach  it.  The  latter 
suffered  severely,  but  still  gained  ground,  and  the  head  of 
their  column  was  already  upon  the  bridge,  when  the  arrival 
of  Morton  changed  the  scene  ;  and  his  Marksmen,  commen- 
cing upon  the  pass  a  fire  as  well  aimed  as  it  was  sustained  and 
regular,  compelled  the  assailants  to  retire  with  much  loss. 
They  were  a  second  time  brought  up  to  the  charge,  and  a  sec- 
ond time  repulsed  with  still  greater  loss,  as  Burley  had  now 
brought  his  party  into  action.  The  fire  was  continued  with 
the  utmost  vehemence  on  both  sides,  and  the  issue  of  the  action 
seemed  very  dubious. 

Monmouth,  mounted  on  a  superb  white  charger,  might  be 
discovered  on  the  top  of  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  urging, 
entreating,  and  animating  the  exertions  of  his  soldiers.  By 
his  oniers,  the  cannon,  which  had  hitherto  been  employed  in 
annoying  the  distant  main  body  of  the  Presbyterians,  were 
now  turned  upon  the  defenders  of  the  bridge.  But  these 
tremendous  engines,  being  wrought  much  more  slowly  than  in 
modern  times,  did  not  produce  the  effect  of  annoying  or  terri- 
fying the  enemy  to  the  extent  proposed.  The  insurgents, 
sheltered  by  copsewood  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  or  stationed 
in  the  houses  already  mentioned,  fought  under  cover,  while 

986 


OLD  MORTALITY  287 

the  Royalists,  owing  to  the  precautions  of  Morton,  were  entirely 
exposed.  The  defence  was  so  protracted  and  obstinate  that 
the  royal  generals  began  to  fear  it  might  be  ultimately  suc- 
cessful. While  Monmouth  threw  himself  from  his  horse, 
and,  rallying  the  Foot  Guards,  brought  them  on  to  another 
close  and  desperate  attack,  he  was  warmly  seconded  by  Dalzell, 
who,  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  Lennox  High- 
landers, rushed  forward  with  their  tremendous  war-cry  of 
Loch  Sloy.*  The  ammunition  of  the  defenders  of  the  bridge 
began  to  fail  at  this  important  crisis  ;  messages,  commanding 
and  imploring  succors  and  supplies,  were  in  vain  despatched, 
one  after  the  other,  to  the  main  body  of  the  Presbyterian 
army,  which  remained  inactively  drawn  up  on  the  open  fields 
in  the  rear.  Fear,  consternation,  and  misrule  had  gone  abrcad 
among  them,  and  while  the  post  on  which  their  safety  de- 
pended required  to  be  instantly  and  powerfully  reinforced, 
there  remained  none  either  to  command  or  to  obey. 

As  the  fire  of  the  defenders  of  the  bridge  began  to  slacken, 
that  of  the  assailants  increased,  and  in  its  turn  became  more 
fatal.     Animated  by  the  example  and  exhortations  of  their 

fenerals,  they  obtained  a  footing  upon  the  bridge  itself,  and 
egan  to  remove  the  obstacles  by  which  it  was  blockaded. 
The  portal-gate  was  broken  open,  the  beams,  trunks  of  trees, 
and  other  materials  of  the  barricade  pulled  down  and  thrown 
into  the  river.  This  was  not  accomplished  without  opposition. 
Morton  and  Burley  fought  in  the  very  front  of  their  followers, 
and  encouraged  them  with  their  pikes,  halberds,  and  partizans 
to  encounter  the  bayonets  of  the  Guards  and  the  broadswords 
of  the  Highlanders.  But  those  behind  the  leaders  began  to 
shrink  from  the  unequal  combat,  and  fly  singly,  or  in  parlies 
of  two  or  three,  towards  the  main  body,  until  the  remainder 
were,  by  the  mere  weight  of  the  hostile  column  as  much  as  by 
their  weapons,  fairly  forced  from  the  bridge.  The  passage 
being  now  open,  the  enemy  began  to  pour  over.  But  the 
bridge  was  long  and  narrow,  which  rendered  the  manoeuvre 
slow  as  well  as  dangerous  ;  and  those  who  first  passed  had  still 
to  force  the  houses,  from  the  windows  of  which  the  Cov- 
enanters continued  to  fire. 

Burley  and  Morton  were  near  each  other  at  this  critical 
moment. 

"  There  is  yet  time,''  said  the  former,  ''to  bringdown  horse 
to  attack  them,  ere  they  can  get  into  order  ;  and,  with  the  aid 
of  God,  we  may  thus  regain  the  bridge  ;  )iasten  thou  to  bring 
them  down,  while  I  make  the  defence  good  with  this  old  and 
wearied  body.'' 

*  See  Note  8a 


288  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Morton  saw  the  importance  of  the  advice,  and,  throwing 
himself  on  the  horse  which  Cuddie  held  in  readiness  for  him 
behind  the  thicket,  galloped  towards  a  body  of  cavalry  which 
chanced  to  be  composed  entirely  of  Oameronians.  Ere  he 
could  speak  his  errand  or  utter  his  orders,  he  was  saluted  by 
the  execrations  of  the  whole  body. 

'''He  flies  I"  they  exclaimed — "the  cowardly  traitor  flies 
like  a  hart  from  the  hunters,  and  hath  left  valiant  Burley  in 
the  midst  of  the  slaughter  ! '' 

"  I  do  not  fly,^'  said  Morton.  "  I  come  to  lead  you  to  the 
attack.     Advance  boldly,  and  we  shall  yet  do  well.^'' 

"Follow  him  not!  Follow  him  not !  ^^ — such  were  the 
tumultuous  exclamations  which  resounded  from  the  ranks; 
"  he  hath  sold  you  to  the  sword  of  the  enemy  !" 

And  while  Morton  argued,  entreated,  and  commanded  in 
vain,  the  moment  was  lost  in  which  the  advance  might  have 
been  useful ;  and  the  outlet  from  the  bridge,  with  all  its  de- 
fences, being  in  complete  possession  of  the  enemy,  Burley  and 
his  remaining  followers  were  driven  back  upon  the  main 
body,  to  whom  the  spectacle  of  their  hurried  and  harassed 
retreat  was  far  from  restoring  the  confidence  which  they  so 
much  wanted. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  forces  of  the  king  crossed  the  bridge 
at  their  leisure,  and,  securing  the  pass,  formed  in  line  of  bat- 
tle ;  while  Claverhouse,  who,  like  a  hawk  perched  on  a  rock, 
and  eying  the  time  to  pounce  on  its  prey,  had  watched  the 
event  of  the  action  from  the  opposite  bank,  now  passed  the 
bridge  at  the  head  of  his  cavalry,  at  full  trot,  and,  leading 
them  in  squadrons  through  the  intervals  and  round  the  flanks 
of  the  royal  infantry,  formed  them  in  line  on  the  moor,  and 
led  them  to  the  charge,  advancing  rn  front  with  one  large 
body,  while  other  two  divisions  threatened  the  flanks  of  the 
Covenanters.  Their  devoted  army  was  now  in  that  situation 
when  the  slightest  demonstration  towards  an  attack  was  cer- 
tain to  inspire  panic.  Their  broken  spirits  and  disheartened 
courage  were  unable  to  endure  the  charge  of  the  cavalry,  at- 
tended with  all  its  terrible  accompaniments  of  sight  and  sound 
— the  rush  of  the  horses  at  full  speed,  the  shaking  of  the  earth 
under  their  feet,  the  glancing  of  the  swords,  the  waving  of 
the  plumes,  and  the  fierce  shouts  of  the  cavaliers.  The  front 
ranks  hardly  attempted  one  ill-directed  and  disorderly  fire, 
and  their  rear  were  broken  and  flying  in  confusion  ere  the 
charge  had  been  completed  ;  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  the 
horsemen  were  mixed  with  them,  cutting  and  hewing  without 
mercy.     The  voice  of  Claverhouse  was  heard,  even  above  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  289 

din  of  conflict,  exclaiming  to  his  soldiers — '*  Kill — kill !  no 
quarter  !  think  on  Kichard  Grahame  \''  The  dragoons,  many 
of  whom  had  shared  the  disgrace  of  London  Hill,  required  no 
exhortations  to  vengeance  as  easy  as  it  was  complete.  Their 
swords  drank  deep  of  slaughter  among  the  unresisting  fugi- 
tives. Screams  for  quarter  were  only  answered  by  the  shouts 
with  which  the  pursuers  accompanied  their  blows,  and  the 
whole  field  presented  one  general  scene  of  confused  slaughter, 
flight,  and  pursuit. 

About  twelve  hundred  of  the  insurgents  w^ho  remained  in 
a  body  a  little  apart  from  the  rest,  and  out  of  the  line  of  the 
charge  of  cavalry,  threw  down  their  arms  and  surrendered  at 
discretion,  upon  the  approach  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth  at 
the  head  of  the  infantry.  That  mild-tempered  nobleman  in- 
stantly allowed  them  the  quarter  which  they  prayed  for  ;  and, 
galloping  about  through  the  field,  exerted  himself  as  much 
to  stop  the  slaughter  as  he  had  done  to  obtain  the  victory. 
While  busied  in  this  humane  task  he  met  with  General  Dal- 
zell,  who  was  encouraging  the  fierce  Highlanders  and  royal 
volunteers  to  show  their  zeal  for  king  and  country  by  quench- 
ing the  flame  of  the  rebellion  with  the  blood  of  the  rebels. 

"  Sheathe  your  sword,  I  command  you.  General  ! "  ex- 
claimed the  Duke,  ''^  and  sound  the  retreat.  Enough  of  blood 
has  been  shed  ;  give  quarter  to  the  king's  misguided  subjects.^' 

*'  I  obey  your  Grace,''  said  the  old  man,  wiping  his  bloody 
sword  and  returning  it  to  the  scabbard  ;  *'  but  I  warn  you,  at 
the  same  time,  that  enough  has  not  been  done  to  intimidate 
these  desperate  rebels.  Has  not  your  Grace  heard  that  Basil 
Olifant  has  collected  several  gentlemen  and  men  of  substance 
in  the  west,  and  is  in  the  act  of  marching  to  join  them  ?" 

''  Basil  Olifant ! "  said  the  Duke.     *'  Who  or  what  is  he  ?  " 

"  The  next  male  heir  to  the  last  Earl  of  Torwood.  He  is 
disaffected  to  government  from  his  claim  to  the  estate  being 
set  aside  in  favor  of  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  ;  and  I  suppose 
the  hope  of  getting  the  inheritance  has  set  him  in  motion." 

"  Be  his  motives  what  they  will,"  replied  Monmouth,  ''he 
must  soon  disperse  his  followers,  for  this  army  is  too  much 
broken  to  rally  again.  Therefore,  once  more,  I  command  that 
the  pursuit  be  stopped." 

*'It  is  your  Grace's  province  to  command,  and  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  your  commands,"  answered  Dalzell,  as  he  gave 
reluctant  orders  for  checking  the  pursuit. 

But  the  fiery  and  vindictive  Grahame  was  already  far  out 
of  hearing  of  the  signal  of  retreat,  and  continued  witli  his 
cavalry  an  unwearied  and  bloody  pursuit,  breaking,  dispers- 


290  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ing,  and  cutting  to  pieces  all  the  insurgents  whom  they  could 
come  up  with. 

Burley  and  Morton  were  both  hurried  off  the  field  by  the 
confused  tide  of  fugitives.  They  made  some  attempt  to  defend 
the  streets  of  the  town  of  Hamilton  ;  but,  while  laboring  to 
induce  the  fliers  to  face  about  and  stand  to  their  weapons, 
Burley  received  a  bullet  which  broke  his  sword-arm. 

''May  the  hand  be  withered  that  shot  the  shot !"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  the  sword  which  he  was  waving  over  his  head  fell 
powerless  to  his  side.     ''I  can  fight  no  longer."* 

Then,  turning  his  horse's  head,  he  retreated  out  of  the 
confusion.  Morton  also  now  saw  that  the  continuing  his  un- 
availing efforts  to  rally  the  fliers  could  only  end  in  his  own 
death  or  captivity,  and,  followed  by  the  faithful  Cuddie,  he 
extricated  himself  from  the  press,  and,  being  well  mounted, 
leaped  his  horse  over  one  or  two  enclosures  and  got  into  the 
open  country. 

From  the  first  hill  which  they  gained  in  their  flight  they 
looked  back,  and  beheld  the  whole  country  covered  with  their 
fugitive  companions,  and  with  the  pursuing  dragoons,  whose 
wild  shouts  and  halloo,  as  they  did  execution  on  the  groups 
whom  they  overtook,  mingled  with  the  groans  and  screams  of 
their  victims,  rose  shrilly  up  the  hill. 

"It  is  impossible  they  can  ever  make  head  again,"  said 
Morton. 

"The  head's  taen  aff  them,  as  clean  as  I  wad  bite  it  aff  a 
sybo!"  rejoined  Cuddie.  "Eh,  Lord!  see  how  the  broad- 
swords are  flashing  !  war's  a  fearsome  thing.  They'll  be 
cunning  that  catches  me  at  this  wark  again.  But,  for  God's 
sake,  sir,  let  us  mak  for  some  strength  ! " 

Morton  saw  the  necessity  of  following  the  advice  of  his 
trusty  squire.  They  resumed  a  rapid  pace,  and  continued  it 
without  intermission,  directing  their  course  towards  the  wild 
and  mountainous  country,  where  they  thought  it  likely  some 
part  of  the  fugitives  might  draw  together,  for  the  sake  either 
of  making  defence  or  of  obtaining  terms. 

♦This  incident,  and  Burley's  exclamation,  are  taken  from  the  records. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

They  require 
Of  Heaven  the  hearts  of  lions,  breath  of  tigers, 
Yea  and  the  fierceness  too. 

Fletcher. 

EvE2S'iNG  had  fallen  ;  and  for  the  last  two  hours  they  had 
seen  none  of  their  ill-fated  companions,  when  ^lorton  and  his 
faithful  attendant  gained  the  moorland,  and  approached  a  large 
and  solitary  farmhouse,  situated  in  the  entrance  of  a  wild 
glen,  far  remote  from  any  other  habitation. 

*^Our  horses, '^  said  Morton,  ^'will  carry  us  no  farther 
without  rest  or  food,  and  we  must  try  to  obtain  them  here,  if 
possible.'' 

So  speaking,  he  led  the  way  to  the  house.  The  place  had 
every  appearance  of  being  inhabited.  There  was  smoke  issuing 
from  the  chimney  in  a  considerable  volume,  and  the  marks  of 
recent  hoofs  were  visible  around  the  door.  They  could  even 
hear  the  murmuring  of  human  voices  within  the  house.  But 
all  the  lower  windows  were  closely  secured ;  and  when  they 
knocked  at  the  door  no  answer  was  returned.  After  vainly 
calling  and  entreating  admittance,  they  withdrew  to  the  stable 
or  shed  in  order  to  accommodate  their  horses,  ere  they  used 
further  means  of  gaining  admission.  In  this  place  they  found 
ten  or  twelve  horses,  whose  state  of  fatigue,  as  well  as  the 
military  yet  disordered  appearance  of  their  saddles  and  ac- 
coutrements, plainly  indicated  that  their  owners  were  fugitive 
insurgents  in  their  own  circumstances. 

''  This  meeting  bodes  luck,''  said  Cuddie  ;  ''and  they  hae 
walth  o'  beef,  that's  ae  thing  certain,  for  here's  a  raw  hide  that 
has  been  about  the  hurdles  o'  a  stot  not  half  an  hour  syne  : 
it's  warm  yet." 

Encouraged  by  these  appearances,  they  returned  again  to 
the  house,  and,  announcing  themselves  as  men  in  the  same 
predicament  with  the  inmates,  clamored  loudly  for  admit- 
tance. 

"  Whoever  ye  be,"  answered  a  stern  voice  from  the  win- 
dow, after  a  long  and  obdurate  silenccj  *^  disturb  not  those 


292  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who  mourn  for  the  desolation  and  captivity  of  the  land,  and 
search  out  the  causes  of  wrath  and  of  defection,  that  the 
stumbling-blocks  may  be  removed  over  which  we  have  stum- 
bled." 

''  They  are  wild  western  Whigs,"  said  Cuddie,  in  a  whisper 
to  his  master,  ^'  I  ken  by  their  language.  Fiend  hae  me,  if  I 
like  to  venture  on  them  ! " 

Morton,  however,  again  called  to  the  party  within,  and 
insisted  on  admittance ;  but,  finding  his  entreaties  still  dis- 
regarded, he  opened  one  of  the  lower  windows,  and  pushing 
asunder  the  shutters,  which  were  but  slightly  secured,  stepped 
into  the  large  kitchen  from  which  the  voice  had  issued.  Cuddie 
followed  him,  muttering  betwixt  his  teeth,  as  he  put  his  head 
within  the  window,  ^'  That  he  hoped  there  w*as  nae  scalding 
brose  on  the  fife ; "  and  master  and  servant  both  f t>und  them- 
selves in  the  company  of  ten  or  twelve  armed  men,  seated 
around  the  fire,  on  which  refreshments  were  preparing,  and 
busied  apparently  in  their  devotions. 

In  the  gloomy  countenances,  illuminated  by  the  firelight, 
Morton  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  several  of  those  zeal- 
ots who  had  most  distinguished  themselves  by  their  intemper- 
ate opposition  to  all  moderate  measures,  together  with  their 
noted  pastor,  the  fanatical  Ephraim  Macbriar,  and  the  maniac, 
Habakkuk  Mucklewrath.  The  Cameronians  neither  stirred 
tongue  nor  hand  to  welcome  their  brethren  in  misfortune,  but 
continued  to  listen  to  the  low  murmured  exercise  of  Macbriar, 
as  he  prayed  that  the  Almighty  would  lift  up  His  hand  from 
His  people,  and  not  make  an  end  in  the  day  of  His  anger. 
That  they  were  conscious  of  the  presence  of  the  intruders 
only  appeared  from  the  sullen  and  indignant  glances  which 
they  shot  at  them,  from  time  to  time,  as  their  eyes  encoun- 
tered. 

Morton,  finding  into  what  unfriendly  society  he  had  un- 
wittingly intruded,  began  to  think  of  retreating ;  but,  on 
turning  his  head,  observed  with  some  alarm  that  two  strong 
men  had  silently  placed  themselves  beside  the  window  through 
which  they  had  entered.  One  of  these  ominous  sentinels 
whispered  to  Cuddie,  "  Son  of  that  precious  woman,  Mause 
Headrigg,  do  not  cast  thy  lot  farther  with  this  child  of  treach- 
ery and  perdition.  Pass  on  thy  way,  and  tarry  not,  for  the 
avenger  of  blood  is  behind  thee." 

With  this  he  pointed  to  the  window,  out  of  which  Cuddie 
jumped  without  hesitation  ;  for  the  intimation  he  had  received 
plainly  implied  the  personal  danger  he  would  otherwise  incur. 

**  Winnocks  are  no  lucky  wi*  me,"  was  his  first  reflection 


OLD  MORTALITY  293 

when  he  was  in  the  open  air  ;  his  next  was  upon  the  probable 
fate  of  his  master.  ''They'll kill  him,  the  murdering  loons, 
and  think  they're  doing  a  gude  turn  !  but  I'se  tak  the  back 
road  for  Hamilton,  and  see  if  I  canna  get  some  o'  our  ain  folk 
to  bring  help  in  time  of  needcessity." 

So  saying,  Cuddie  hastened  to  the  stable,  and  taking  the 
best  horse  he  could  find  instead  of  his  own  tired  animal,  he 
galloped  oil  in  the  direction  he  proposed. 

The  noise  of  his  horse's  tread  alarmed  for  an  instant  the 
devotion  of  the  fanatics.  As  it  died  in  the  distance,  Macbriar 
brought  his  exercise  to  a  conclusion,  and  his  audience  raised 
themselves  from  the  stooping  posture  and  lowering,  downward 
look  with  which  they  had.  listened  to  it,  and  all  fixed  their 
eyes  sternly  on  Henry  Morton. 

''You  bend  strange  countenances  on  me,  gentlemen,"  said 
he,  addressing  them.  "  I  am  totally  ignorant  in  what  man- 
ner I  can  have  deserved  them.'' 

"Out  upon  thee  !  out  upon  thee!"  exclaimed  Muckle- 
wrath,  starting  up  :  "the  Word  that  thou  hast  spurned  shall 
become  a  rock  to  crush  and  to  bruise  thee  ;  the  spear  which 
thou  wouldst  have  broken  shall  pierce  thy  side;  we  have 
prayed,  and  wrestled,  and  petitioned  for  an  offering  to  atone 
the  sins  of  the  congregation,  and  lo  !  the  very  head  of  the 
offence  is  delivered  into  our  hand.  He  hath  burst  in  like  a 
thief  through  the  window  ;  he  is  a  ram  caught  in  the  thicket, 
whose  blood  shall  be  a  drink-offering  to  redeem  vengeance 
from  the  church,  and  the  place  shall  from  henceforth  be  called 
Jehovah-Jireh,  for  the  sacrifice  is  provided.  Up,  then,  and 
bind  the  victim  with  cords  to  the  horns  of  the  altar ! " 

There  was  a  movement  among  the  party  ;  and  deeply  did 
Morton  regret  at  that  moment  the  incautious  haste  with 
which  he  had  ventured  into  their  company.  He  was  armed 
only  with  his  sword,  for  he  had  left  his  pistols  at  the  bow  of 
his  saddle ;  and,  as  the  Whigs  were  all  provided  with  fire- 
arms, there  was  little  or  no  chance  of  escaping  from  them  by 
resistance. 

The  interposition,  however,  of  Macbriar  protected  him  for 
the  moment.  "  Tarry  yet  a  while,  brethren  ;  let  us  not  use 
the  sword  rashly,  lest  the  load  of  innocent  blood  lie  heavy  on 
us.  Come,"  he  said,  addressing  himself  to  Morton,  "  we  will 
reckon  with  thee  ere  we  avenge  the  cause  thou  hast  betrayed. 
Hast  thou  not,"  he  continued,  "  made  thy  face  as  hard  aa 
flint  against  the  truth  in  all  the  assemblies  of  the  host  ?" 

"  He  has — he  has,"  murmured  the  deep  voices  of  the  as- 
sistants. 


31H  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  He  hath  ever  urged  peace  with  the  Malignants/' said  one. 

*'  And  pleaded  for  the  dark  and  dismal  guilt  of  the  Indul- 
gence," said  another. 

'*  And  would  have  surrendered  the  host  into  the  hands  of 
Monmouth/^  echoed  a  third  ;  "and  was  the  first  to  desert  the 
honest  and  manly  Burley,  while  he  yet  resisted  at  the  pass.  I 
saw  him  on  the  moor,  with  his  horse  bloody  with  spurring, 
long  ere  the  firing  had  ceased  at  the  bridge." 

*'  Gentlemen,"  said  Morton,  "  if  you  mean  to  bear  me 
down  by  clamor,  and  take  my  life  without  hearing  me,  it  is 
'perhaps  a  thing  in  your  power ;  but  you  will  sin  before  God 
and  man  by  the  commission  of  such  a  murder." 

''I  say,  hear  the  youth,"  said  Macbriar ;  ''for  Heaven 
knows  our  bowels  have  yearned  for  him,  that  he  might  be 
brought  to  see  the  truth,  and  exert  his  gifts  in  its  defence. 
But  he  is  blinded  by  his  carnal  knowledge,  and  has  spurned 
the  light  when  it  blazed  before  him." 

Silence  being  obtained,  Morton  proceeded  to  assert  the 
good  faith  which  he  had  displayed  in  the  treaty  with  Mon- 
mouth, and  the  active  part  he  had  borne  in  the  subsequent 
action. 

"  I  may  not,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  ''  be  fully  able  to  go  the 
lengths  you  desire,  in  assigning  to  those  of  my  own  religion 
the  means  of  tyrannizing  over  others  ;  but  none  shall  go  farther 
in  asserting  our  own  lawful  freedom.  And  I  must  needs  aver 
that,  had  others  been  of  my  mind  in  counsel,  or  disposed  to 
stand  by  my  side  in  battle,  we  should  this  evening,  instead  of 
being  a  defeated  and  discordant  remnant,  have  sheathed  our 
weapons  in  an  useful  and  honorable  peace,  or  brandished  them 
triumphantly  after  a  decisive  victory." 

'"He  hath  spoken  the  word,"  said  one  of  the  assembly  ; 
'*he  hath  avowed  his  carnal  self-seeking  and  Erastianism  :  let 
him  die  the  death  ! " 

"  Peace  yet  again,"  said  Macbriar,  **  for  I  will  try  him 
further.  Was  it  not  by  thy  means  that  the  Malignant  Evan- 
dale  twice  escaped  from  death  and  captivity  ?  Was  it  not 
through  thee  that  Miles  Bellenden  and  his  garrison  of  cut- 
throats were  saved  from  the  edge  of  the  sword  ?  " 

'*  I  am  proud  to  say  that  you  have  spoken  the  truth  in  both 
instances,"  replied  Morton. 

*'Lo  !  you  see,"  said  Macbriar,  "again  hath  his  mouth 
spoken  it.  And  didst  thou  not  do  this  for  the  sake  of  a  Mid- 
ianiiish  woman,  one  of  the  spawn  of  Prelacy,  a  toy  with  which 
the  arch-enemy's  trap  is  baited  ?  Didst  thou  not  do  all  thi« 
for  the  sake  of  Edith  Bellenden  ?  " 


OLD  MORTALITY  2«5 

"Yon  are  incapable/*  answered  Morton,  boldly,  '^of  ap- 
preciating my  feelings  towards  that  young  lady ;  but  all  that 
I  have  done  I  would  have  done  had  she  never  existed/* 

*^  Thou  art  a  hardy  rebel  to  the  truth,"  said  another  dark- 
browed  man  ;  ^*and  didst  thou  not  so  act  that,  by  conveying 
away  the  aged  woman,  Margaret  Bellenden,  and  her  grand- 
daughter, thou  mightest  thwart  the  wise  and  godly  project  of 
John  Balfour  of  Burley  for  bringing  forth  to  battle  Basil 
Olifant,  who  had  agreed  to  take  the  field  if  he  were  insured 
possession  of  these  women*s  worldly  endowments  ?  ** 

*' I  never  heard  of  such  a  schemie,"  said  Morton,  *'and 
therefore  I  could  not  thwart  it.  But  does  your  religion  per- 
mit you  to  take  such  uncreditable  and  immoral  modes  of  re- 
cruiting ?  ** 

*^  Peace,**  said  Macbriar,  somewhat  disconcerted  ;  **  it  is 
not  for  thee  to  instruct  tender  professors,  or  to  construe 
Covenant  obligations.  For  the  rest,  you  have  acknowledged 
enough  of  sin  and  sorrowful  defection  to  draw  down  defeat 
on  a  host,  were  it  as  numerous  as  the  sands  on  the  sea-shore. 
And  it  is  our  judgment  that  we  are  not  free  to  let  you  pass 
from  us  safe  and  in  life,  since  Providence  hath  given  you  into 
our  hands  at  the  moment  that  we  prayed  with  godly  Joshua, 
saying,  *  What  shall  we  say  when  Israel  turneth  their  backs 
before  their  enemies  ?  *  Then  earnest  thou,  delivered  to  us 
as  it  were  by  lot,  that  thou  mightest  sustain  the  punishment 
of  one  that  hath  wrought  folly  in  Israel.  Therefore,  mark  my 
words.  This  is  the  Sabbath,  and  our  hand  shall  not  be  on 
thee  to  spill  thy  blood  upon  this  day  ;  but  when  the  twelfth 
hour  shall  strike,  it  is  a  token  that  thy  time  on  earth  hath 
run  !  Wherefore  improve  thy  span,  for  it  flitteth  fast  away. 
Seize  on  the  prisoner,  brethren,  and  take  his  weapon.** 

The  command  was  so  unexpectedly  given,  and  so  suddenly 
executed  by  those  of  the  party  who  had  gradually  closed  be- 
hind and  around  Morton,  that  he  was  overpowered,  disarmed, 
and  a  horse-girth  passed  round  his  arms  before  he  could  offer 
any  effectual  resistance.  W^hen  this  was  accomplished,  a 
dead  and  stern  silence  took  place.  The  fanatics  ranged 
themselves  around  a  large  oaken  table,  placing  Morton  among 
them  bound  and  helpless,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  opposite 
.  to  the  clock  which  was  to  strike  his  knell.  Food  was  placed 
before  them,  of  which  they  offered  their  intended  victim  a 
share  ;  but,  it  will  readily  be  believed,  he  had  little  appetite. 
When  this  was  removed,  the  party  resumed  their  devotions. 
Macbriar,  whose  fierce  zeal  did  not  perhaps  exclude  some 
feelings  of  doubt  and  compunction,  began  to  expostulate  ii; 


296  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

prayer,  as  if  to  wring  from  the  Deity  a  signal  that  the  bloody 
sacrifice  they  proposed  was  an  acceptable  service.  The  eyes 
and  ears  of  his  hearers  were  anxiously  strained,  as  if  to  gain 
some  sight  or  sound  which  might  be  converted  or  wrested  into 
a  type  of  approbation,  and  ever  and  anon  dark  looks  were 
turned  on  the  dial-plate  of  the  timepiece,  to  watch  its  prog- 
ress towards  the  moment  of  execution. 

Morton's  eye  frequently  took  the  same  course,  with  the 
sad  reflection  that  there  appeared  no  possibility  of  his  life  being 
expanded  beyond  the  narrow  segment  which  the  index  had 
yet  to  travel  on  the  circle  until  it  arrived  at  the  fatal  hour. 
Faith  in  his  religion,  with  a  constant  unyielding  principle  of 
honor,  and  the  sense  of  conscious  innocence,  enabled  him  to 
pass  through  this  dreadful  interval  with  less  agitation  than  he 
himself  could  have  expected  had  the  situation  been  prophesied 
to  him.  Yet  there  was  a  want  of  that  eager  and  animating 
sense  of  right  which  supported  him  in  similar  circumstances, 
when  in  the  power  of  Claverhouse.  Then  he  was  conscious 
that  amid  the  spectators  were  many  who  were  lamenting  his 
condition,  and  some  who  applauded  his  conduct.  But  now, 
among  these  pale-eyed  and  ferocious  zealots,  whose  hardened 
brows  were  soon  to  be  bent,  not  merely  with  indifference,  but 
with  triumph,  upon  his  execution — without  a  friend  to  speak 
a  kindly  word,  or  give  a  look  either  of  sympathy  or  encourage- 
ment— awaiting  till  the  sword  destined  to  slay  him  crept  out 
of  the  scabbard  gradually,  and  as  it  were  by  straw-breadths, 
and  condemned  to  drink  the  bitterness  of  death  drop  by  drop 
— it  is  no  wonder  that  his  feelings  were  less  composed  than 
they  had  been  on  any  former  occasion  of  danger.  His  destined 
executioners,  as  he  gazed  around  them,  seemed  to  alter  their 
forms  and  features,  like  spectres  in  a  feverish  dream  ;  their 
figures  became  larger,  and  their  faces  more  disturbed  ;  and, 
as  an  excited  imagination  predominated  over  the  realities 
which  his  eyes  received,  he  could  have  thought  himself  sur- 
rounded rather  by  a  band  of  demons  than  of  human  beings ; 
the  walls  seemed  to  drop  with  blood,  and  the  light  tick  of  the 
clock  thrilled  on  his  ear  with  such  loud,  painful  distinctness 
as  if  each  sound  were  the  prick  of  a  bodkin  inflicted  on  the 
naked  nerve  of  the  organ. 

It  was  with  pain  that  he  felt  his  mind  wavering  while  on 
the  brink  between  this  and  the  future  world.  He  made  a 
strong  effort  to  compose  himself  to  devotional  exercises,  and, 
unequal,  during  that  fearful  strife  of  nature,  to  arrange  his 
own  thoughts  into  suitable  expressions*,  he  had,  instinctively, 
recourse  to  the  petition  for  deliverance  and  for  composure  of 


OLD  MORTALITY  Wt 

spirit  which  is  to  be  found  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer  of 
the  Church  of  England.  Macbriar,  whose  family  were  of 
that  persuasion,  instantly  recognized  the  words,  which  the 
unfortunate  prisoner  pronounced  half  aloud. 

'*  There  lacked  but  this,"  he  said,  his  pale  cheek  kindling 
with  resentment,  ^'  to  root  out  my  carnal  reluctance  to  see  his 
blood  spilled  He  is  a  Prelatist,  who  has  sought  the  camp 
under  the  disguise  of  an  Erastian,  and  all,  and  more  than  all, 
that  has  been  said  of  him  must  needs  be  verity.  His  blood 
be  on  his  head,  the  deceiver  !  let  him  go  down  to  Tophet  with 
the  ill-mumbled  mass  which  he  calls  a  prayer-book  in  his  right 
hand." 

"1  take  up  my  song  against  him  !  "  exclaimed  the  maniac. 
*^  As  the  sun  went  back  on  the  dial  ten  degrees  for  intimating 
the  recovery  of  holy  Hezekiah,  so  shall  it  now  go  forward, 
that  the  wicked  may  be  taken  away  from  among  the  people, 
and  the  Covenant  established  in  its  purity." 

He  sprang  to  a  chair  with  an  attitude  of  frenzy,  in  order 
to  anticipate  the  fatal  moment  by  putting  the  index  forward  ; 
and  several  of  the  party  began  to  make  ready  their  slaughter- 
weapons  for  immediate  execution,  when  Mucklewrath's  hand 
was  arrested  by  one  of  his  companions. 

"  Hist !  "  he  said  ;  "  I  hear  a  distant  noise." 

"It  is  the  rushing  of  the  brook  over  the  pebbles,"  said 
one. 

"It  is  the  sough  of  the  wind  among  the  bracken,"  said 
another. 

"  It  is  the  galloping  of  horse,"  said  Morton  to  himself,  his 
sense  of  hearing  rendered  acute  by  the  dreadful  situation  in 
which  he  stood.     "God  grant  they  may  come  as  my  deliv- 


erers 


}" 


The  noise  approached  rapidly,  and  became  more  and  more 
distinct. 

"  It  is  horse,"  cried  Macbriar.  "Look  out  and  descry 
who  they  are." 

"  The  enemy  are  upon  us  !"  cried  one  who  had  opened 
the  window  in  obedience  to  his  order. 

A  thick  trampling  and  loud  voices  were  heard  immediately 
round  the  house.  Some  rose  to  resist,  and  some  to  escape ; 
the  doors  and  windows  were  forced  at  once,  and  the  red  coats 
of  the  troopers  appeared  in  the  apartment. 

"  Have  at  the  bloody  rebels !  Remember  Comet  Grahame  ! " 
was  shouted  on  every  side. 

The  lights  were  struck  down,  but  the  dubious  glare  of  the 
fire  enabled  them  to  continue  the  fray.     Several  pistol-shots 


208  WAVERjuEY  NOVEUs 

were  fired ;  the  Whig  who  stood  next  to  Morton  receiyed  a 
shot  as  he  was  rising,  stumbled  against  the  prisoner,  whom  he 
bore  down  with  his  weight,  and  lay  stretched  above  him  a 
dying  man.  This  accident  probably  saved  Morton  from  the 
damage  he  might  otherwise  have  received  in  so  close  a  strug- 
gle, where  firearms  were  discharged  and  sword-blows  given  for 
upwards  of  five  minutes. 

''Is  the  prisoner  safe  ?"  exclaimed  the  well-known  voice 
of  Olaverhouse  ;  "  look  about  for  him,  and  despatch  the  Whig 
dog  who  is  groaning  there." 

Both  orders  were  executed.  The  groans  of  the  wounded 
man  were  silenced  by  a  thrust  with  a  rapier,  and  Morton,  dis- 
encumbered of  his  weight,  was  speedily  raised  and  in  the  arms 
of  the  faithful  Cuddie,  who  blubbered  for  joy  when  he  found 
that  the  blood  with  which  his  master  was  covered  had  not 
flowed  from  his  own  veins.  A  whisper  in  Morton's  ear,  while 
his  trusty  follower  relieved  him  from  his  bonds,  explained 
the  secret  of  the  very  timely  appearance  of  the  soldiers.  * 

"  I  fell  into  Claverhouse's  party  when  I  was  seeking  for 
some  o'  our  ain  folk  to  help  ye  out  o'  the  hands  of  the  Whigs, 
sae  being  atween  the  deil  and  the  deep  sea,  I  e'en  thought  it 
best  to  bring  him  on  wi'  me,  for  he'll  be  wearied  wi'  felling 
folk  the  night,  and  the  morn's  a  new  day,  and  Lord  Evandale 
awes  ye  a  day  in  har'st ;  and  Monmouth  gies  quarter,  the  dra- 

foons  tell  me,  for  the  asking.     Sae  hand  up  your  heart,  an' 
's8  warrant  we'll  do  a'  weel  eneugh  yet." 

*  See  Morton's  Capture  and  Release.    Note  81. 


Ui'm4i^<:\ 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

Sound,  Bound  the  clarion,  fill  the  fife  t 
To  all  the  sensual  world  proclaim, 

One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name. 

Anonymous, 

When  the  desperate  affray  had  ceased,  Claverhouse  com- 
manded his  soldiers  to  remove  the  dead  bodies,  to  refresh  them- 
selves and  their  horses,  and  prepare  for  passing  the  night  at 
the  farmhouse,  and  for  marching  early  in  the  ensuing  morn- 
ing. He  then  turned  his  attention  to  Morton,  and  there  was 
politeness,  and  even  kindness,  in  the  manner  in  which  he  ad- 
dressed him. 

"You  would  have  saved  yourself  risk  from  both  sides,  Mr. 
Morton,  if  you  had  honored  my  counsel  yesterday  morning 
with  some  attention  ;  but  I  respect  your  motives.  Yon  area 
prisoner-of-war  at  the  disposal  of  the  king  and  council,  but  you 
shall  be  treated  with  no  incivility  ;  and  I  will  be  satisfied  with 
your  parole  that  you  will  not  attempt  an  escape.^' 

When  Morton  had  passed  his  word  to  that  effect,  Claver- 
house bo^ved  civilly,  and,  turning  away  from  him,  called  for 
his  sergeant-major. 

"  How  many  prisoners,  Halliday,  and  how  many  killed  ?  " 

•"  Three  killed  in  the  house,  sir,  two  cut  down  in  the  court, 
and  one  in  the  garden — six  in  all ;  four  prisoners.*' 

"  Armed  or  unarmed  ?  "  said  Claverhouse. 

'*  Three  of  them  armed  to  the  teeth,''  answered  Halliday ; 
^'  one  without  arms,  he  seems  to  be  a  preacher." 

"Ay,  the  trumpeter  to  the  long-ear'd  rout,  I  suppose,*' 
replied  Claverhouse,  glancing  slightly  round  upon  his  victims ; 
"  I  will  talk  with  him  to-morrow.  Take  the  other  three  down 
to  the  yard,  draw  out  two  files,  and  fire  upon  them  ;  and,  d'ye 
hear,  make  a  memorandum  in  the  orderly  book  of  three  rebels 
taken  in  arms  and  shot,  with  the  date  and  name  of  the  place — 
Drumshinnel,  I  think,  they  call  it.  Look  after  the  preacher 
till  to-morrow  ;  as  he  was  not  armed,  he  must  undergo  a  short 
ej««nination ;  or  better,  perhaps,  take  him  before  the  privy 


800  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

council ;  I  think  they  should  relieve  me  of  a  share  of  this  dis- 
gusting drudgery.  Let  Mr.  Morton  be  civilly  used,  and  see 
that  the  men  look  well  after  their  horses ;  and  let  my  groom 
wash  Wildblood's  shoulder  with  some  vinegar,  the  saddle  has 
touched  him  a  little/^ 

All  these  various  orders — for  life  and  death,  the  securing 
of  his  prisoners,  and  the  washing  his  charger's  shoulder — were 
given  in  the  same  unmoved  and  equable  voice,  of  which  no  ac- 
cent or  tone  intimated  that  the  speaker  considered  one  direc- 
tion as  of  more  importance  than  another. 

The  Oameronians,  so  lately  about  to  be  the  willing  agents 
of  a  bloody  execution,  were  now  themselves  to  undergo  it. 
They  seemed  prepared  alike  for  either  extremity,  nor  did  any 
of  them  show  the  least  sign  of  fear,  when  ordered  to  leave 
the  room  for  the  purpose  of  meeting  instant  death.  Their 
severe  enthusiasm  sustained  them  in  that  dreadful  moment, 
and  they  departed  with  a  firm  look  and  in  silence,  excepting 
that  one  of  them,  as  he  left  the  apartment,  looked  Claver- 
house  full  in  the  face,  and  pronounced,  with  a  stern  and 
steady  voice — ^^  Mischief  shall  haunt  ^he  violent  man!  "to 
which  Grahame  only  answered  by  a  smile  of  contempt. 

They  had  no  sooner  left  the  room  than  Claverhouse  ap- 
plied himself  to  some  food,  which  one  or  two  of  his  party  had 
hastily  provided,  and  invited  Morton  to  follow  his  example, 
observing,  it  had  been  a  busy  day  for  them  both.  Morton 
declined  eating ;  for  the  sudden  change  of  circumstances — 
the  transition  from  the  verge  of  the  grave  to  a  prospect  of 
life — had  occasioned  a  dizzy  revulsion  in  his  whole  system. 
But  the  same  confused  sensation  was  accompanied  by  a  burn- 
ing thirst,  and  he  expressed  his  wish  to  drink. 

'^  I  will  pledge  you,  with  all  my  heart,"  said  Claverhouse  ; 
''for  here  is  a  black-jack  full  of  ale,  and  good  it  must  be,  if 
there  be  good  in  the  country,  for  the  Whigs  never  miss  to 
find  it  out.  My  service  to  you,  Mr.  Morton,"  he  said,  filling 
one  horn  of  ale  for  himself  and  handing  another  to  his  pris- 
oner. 

Morton  raised  it  to  his  head,  and  was  just  about  to  drink 
when  the  discharge  of  carabines  beneath  the  window,  followed 
by  a  deep  and  hollow  groan,  repeated  twice  or  thrice,  and 
more  faint  at  each  interval,  announced  the  fate  of  the  three 
men  who  had  just  left  them.  Morton  shuddered  and  set 
down  the  untasted  cup. 

**  You  are  but  young  in  these  matters,  Mr.  Morton,"  said 
Claverhouse,  after  he  liad  verv  composedly  finished  liis 
draught ;  *'  and  I  do  not  think  the  worse  of  you  as  a  youn^ 


OLD  MORTALITY  801 

soldier  for  appearing  to  feel  them  acutely.  But  habit,  duty, 
and  necessity  reconcile  men  to  everything/' 

"  I  trust,"  said  Morton,  *'  they  will  never  reconcile  me  to 
such  scenes  as  these/' 

*'  You  would  hardly  believe,''  said  Claverhouse,  in  reply, 
'*  that,  in  the  beginning  of  my  military  career,  I  had  as  much 
aversion  to  seeing  blood  spilled  as  ever  man  felt ;  it  seemed  to 
me  to  be  wrung  from  my  own  heart  ;  and  yet,  if  you  trust 
one  of  those  Whig  fellows,  he  will  tell  you  I  drink  a  warm  cup 
of  it  every  morning  before  I  breakfast.*  But  in  truth,  Mr. 
Morton,  why  should  we  care  so  much  for  death,  light  upon  us 
or  around  us  whenever  it  may  ?  Men  die  daily  :  not  a  bell 
tolls  the  hour  but  it  is  the  death-note  of  some  one  or  other  ; 
and  why  hesitate  to  shorten  the  span  of  others,  or  take  over- 
anxious care  to  prolong  our  own  ?  It  is  all  a  lottery  :  when 
the  hour  of  midnight  came,  you  were  to  die  ;  it  has  struck, 
you  are  alive  and  safe,  and  the  lot  has  fallen  on  those  fellows 
who  were  to  murder  you.  It  is  not  the  expiring  pang  that  is 
worth  thinking  of  in  an  event  that  must  happen  one  day,  and 
may  befall  us  on  any  given  moment ;  it  is  the  memory  which 
the  soldier  leaves  behind  him,  like  the  long  train  of  light  that 
follows  the  sunken  sun,  that  is  all  which  is  worth  caring  for, 
which  distinguishes  the  death  of  the  brave  or  the  ignoble. 
When  I  think  of  death,  Mr.  Morton,  as  a  thing  worth  think- 
ing of,  it  is  in  the  hope  of  pressing  one  day  some  well-fought 
and  hard-won  field  of  battle,  and  dying  with  the  shout  of 
victory  in  my  ear  ;  that  would  be  worth  dying  for,  and  more, 
it  would  be  worth  having  lived  for  ! " 

At  the  moment  when  Grahame  delivered  these  sentiments, 
his  eye  glancing  with  the  martial  enthusiasm  which  formed 
such  a  prominent  feature  in  his  character,  a  gory  figure,  which 
seemed  to  rise  out  of  the  floor  of  the  apartment,  stood  upright 
before  him,  and  presented  the  wild  person  and  hideous  feat- 
ures of  the  maniac  so  often  mentioned.  His  face,  w^here  it 
was  not  covered  with  blood-streaks,  was  ghastly  pale,  for  the 
hand  of  death  was  on  him.  He  bent  upon  Claverhouse  eyes 
in  which  the  gray  light  of  insanity  still  twinkled,  though  just 
about  to  flit  forever,  and  exclaimed,  with  his  usual  wildness 
of  ejaculation,  ''  Wilt  thou  trust  in  thy  bow  and  in  thy  spear, 
in  thy  steed  and  in  thy  banner  ?  And  shall  not  God  visit 
thee  for  innocent  blood  ?  Wilt  thou  glory  in  thy  wisdom, 
and  in  thy  courage,  and  in  thy  might  ?  And  shall  not  the 
Lord  judge  thee  ?     Behold  the  princes,  for  whom  thou  hast 

*  The  Author  is  uncertain  whether  this  was  ever  said  of  Claverhouse.  But  it  was 
currently  reported  of  Sir  Robert  Grierson  of  La^ff,  another  of  the  persecutors,  tbtA 
tk  cup  of  wine  plftoed  in  iuo  hand  tui'nud  to  clotted  blood. 


/ 


303  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sold  thy  soul  to  the  destroyer,  shall  be  removed  from  their 
place,  and  banished  to  other  lands,  and  their  names  shall  be 
a  desolation,  and  an  astonishment,  and  a  hissing,  and  a  curse. 
And  thou,  who  hast  partaken  of  the  wine-cup  of  fury,  and 
hast  been  drunken  and  mad  because  thereof,  the  wish  of  thy 
heart  shall  be  granted  to  thy  loss,  and  the  hope  of  thine  own 
pride  shall  destroy  thee.  I  summon  thee,  John  Grahame,  to 
appear  before  the  tribunal  of  God,  to  answer  for  this  innocent 
blool,  and  the  seas  besides  which  thou  hast  shed.'' 

He  drew  his  right  hand  across  his  bleeding  face  and  held 
it  up  to  heaven  as  he  uttered  these  words,  which  he  spoke 
very  loud,  and  then  added  more  faintly,  *'  How  long,  0  Lord, 
holy  and  true,  dost  thou  not  judge  and  avenge  the  blood  of 
thy  saints  ! '' 

As  he  uttered  the  last  word  he  fell  backwards  without  an 
attempi;  to  save  himself,  and  was  a  dead  man  ere  his  head 
touched  the  floor. 

Morton  was  much  shocked  at  this  extraordinary  scene,  and 
the  prophecy  of  the  dying  man,  which  tallied  so  strangely 
with  the  wish  which  Olaverhouse  had  just  expressed  ;  and  he 
often  thouglit  of  it  afterwards  when  that  wish  seemed  to  be 
accomplished.  Two  of  the  dragoons  who  were  in  the  apart- 
ment, hardened  as  they  were,  and  accustomed  to  such  scenes, 
showed  great  consternation  at  the  sudden  apparition,  the  event, 
and  the  words  which  preceded  it,  Olaverhouse  alone  was  un- 
moved. At  the  first  instant  of  Muckle wrath's  appearance  he 
had  piit  his  hand  to  his  pistol,  but  on  seeing  the  situation  of 
the  wounded  wretch,  he  immediately  withdrew  it,  and  listened 
with  great  composure  to  his  dying  exclamation. 

When  he  dropped,  Olaverhouse  asked  in  an  unconcerned 
tone  of  voice — *'  How  came  the  fellow  here  ?  Speak,  you 
staring  fool ! "  he  added,  addressing  the  nearest  dragoon, 
'*  unless  you  would  have  me  think  you  such  a  poltroon  as  to 
fear  a  dying  man." 

The  dragoon  crossed  himself,  and  replied  with  a  faltering 
voice — ^^  That  the  dead  fellow  had  escaped  their  notice  when 
they  removed  the  other  bodies,  as  he  chanced  to  have  fallen 
where  a  cloak  or  two  had  been  flung  aside  and  covered  him." 

'^  Take  him  away  now,  then,  you  gaping  idiot,  and  see 
that  he  does  not  bite  you,  to  put  an  old  proverb  to  shame. 
This  is  a  new  incident,  Mr.  Morton,  that  dead  men  should 
rise  and  push  us  from  our  stools.  I  must  see  that  my  black- 
guards grind  their  swords  sharper ;  they  used  not  to  do  their 
work  so  slovenly.  But  we  have  had  a  busy  day ;  they  are 
tired,  and  their  blades  blunted  with  their  bloody  work ;  and 


OLD  MORTALITY  368 

I  suppose  yon,  Mr.  Morton,  as  well  as  I,  are  well  disposed  for 
a  few  hours'  repose/' 

So  saying,  he  yawned,  and  taking  a  candle  which  a  soldier 
had  placed  ready,  saluted  Morton  courteously,  and  walked  to 
the  apartment  which  had  been  prepared  for  him. 

Morton  was  also  accommodated  for  the  evening  with  a 
separate  room.  Being  left  alone,  his  first  occupation  was  the 
returning  thanks  to  Heaven  for  redeeming  him  from  danger, 
even  through  the  instrumentality  of  those  who  seemed  his 
most  dangerous  enemies  ;  he  also  prayed  sincerely  for  the 
Divine  assistance  in  guiding  his  course  through  times  which 
held  out  so  many  dangers  and  so  many  errors.  And  having 
thus  poured  out  his  spirit  in  prayer  before  the  Great  Being 
who  gave  it,  he  betook  himself  to  the  repose  which  he  so  much 
required. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

The  charge  is  prepared,  the  lawyers  are  met, 
The  judges  all  ranged — a  terrible  show  I 

Beggar's  Opera. 

So  deep  was  the  slumber  which  succeeded  the  agitation  and 
embarrassment  of  the  preceding  day,  that  Morton  hardly  knew 
where  he  was  when  it  was  broken  by  the  tramp  of  horses,  the 
hoarse  voice  of  men,  and  the  wild  sound  of  the  trumpets  blow- 
ing the  reveille.  The  sergeant-major  immediately  afte^  wards 
came  to  summon  him,  which  he  did  in  a  very  respectful  man- 
ner, saying  the  General  (for  Olaverhouse  now  held  that  rank) 
hoped  for  the  pleasure  of  his  company  upon  the  road.  In 
some  situations  an  intimation  is  a  command,  and  Morton 
considered  that  the  present  occasion  was  one  of  these.  He 
waited  upon  Olaverhouse  as  speedily  as  he  could,  found  his 
own  horse  saddled  for  his  use,  and  Cuddie  in  attendance. 
Both  were  deprived  of  their  firearms,  though  they  seemed, 
otherwise,  rather  to  make  part  of  the  troop  than  of  the  pris- 
oners ;  and  Morton  was  permitted  to  retain  his  sword,  the 
wearing  which  was,  in  those  days,  the  distinguishing  mark 
of  a  gentleman.  Olaverhouse  seemed  also  to  take  pleasure  in 
riding  beside  him,  in  conversing  with  him,  and  in  confound- 
ing his  ideas  when  he  attempted  to  appreciate  his  real  char- 
acter. The  gentleness  and  urbanity  of  that  officer's  general 
manners,  the  high  and  chivalrous  sentiments  of  military  de- 
votion which  he  occasionally  expressed,  his  deep  and  accurate 
insight  into  the  human  bosom,  demanded  at  once  the  appro- 
bation and  the  wonder  of  those  who  conversed  with  him  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  his  cold  indifference  to  military 
violence  and  cruelty  seemed  altogether  inconsistent  with  the 
social,  and  even  admirable,  qualities  which  he  displayed. 
Morton  could  not  help  in  his  heart  contrasting  him  with  Bal- 
four of  Burley  ;  and  so  deeply  did  the  idea  impress  him,  that 
he  dropped  a  hint  of  it  as  they  rode  together  at  some  distance 
from  the  troop. 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Olaverhouse,  with  a  smile—"  you 


OLD  MORTALITY  806 

are  very  right,  we  are  both  fanatics ;  but  there  is  some  distinc- 
tion between  the  fanaticism  of  honor  and  that  of  dark  and 
sullen  superstition." 

"  Yet  you  both  shed  blood  without  mercy  or  remorse/'  said 
Morton,  who  could  not  suppress  his  feelings. 

"  Surely,"  said  Claverhouse,  with  the  same  composure ; 
''  but  of  what  kind  ?  There  is  a  difference,  I  trust,  between 
the  blood  of  learned  and  reverend  prelates  and  scholars,  of 
gallant  soldiers  and  noble  gentlemen,  and  the  red  puddle  that 
stagnates  in  the  veins  of  psalm-singing  mechanics,  crack- 
brained  demagogues,  and  sullen  boors ;  some  distinction,  in 
short,  between  spilling  a  flask  of  generous  wine  and  dashing 
down  a  can  full  of  base  muddy  ale  ?  " 

^' Your  distinction  is  too  nice  for  my  comprehension,"  re- 
plied Morton.  "God  gives  every  spark  of  life,  that  of  the 
peasant  as  well  as  of  the  prince  ;  and  those  who  destroy  Hit 
work  recklessly  or  causelessly  must  answer  in  either  case. 
What  right,  for  example,  have  I  to  General  Grab ame's  protec- 
tion now  more  than  when  I  first  met  him  ?" 

*'  And  narrowly  escaped  the  consequences,  you  would  say  ?'* 
answered  Claverhouse.  "Why,  I  will  answer  you  frankly. 
Then  I  thought  I  had  to  do  with  the  son  of  an  old  Roundheaded 
rebel,  and  the  nephew  of  a  sordid  Presbyterian  laird  ;  now  I 
know  your  points  better,  and  there  is  that  about  you  which  I 
respect  in  an  enemy  as  much  as  I  like  in  a  friend.  I  have 
learned  a  good  deal  concerning  you  since  our  first  meeting, 
and  I  trust  that  you  have  found  that  my  construction  of  the 
information  has  not  been  unfavorable  to  you." 

"But  yet,"  said  Morton 

*'  But  yet,"  interrupted  Grahame,  taking  up  the  word,  "you   i 
would  say  you  were  the  same  when  I  first  met  you  that  you    \ 
are  now  ?     True  ;  but  then,  how  could  I  know  that  ?  though, 
by  the  by,  even  my  reluctance  to  suspend  your  execution  may 
show  you  how  high  your  abilities  stood  in  my  estimation." 

"  Do  you  expect.  General,"  said  Morton,  "that  I  ought  to 
be  particularly  grateful  for  such  a  mark  of  your  esteem  .?  " 

"  Poh  !  poh  Tyou  are  critical,"  returned  Claverhouse.  "  I 
tell  you  I  thought  you  a  different  sort  of  person.  Did  you 
ever  read  Froissart  ?  " 

"No,"  was  Morton's  answer. 

"I  have  half  a  mind,"  said  Claverhouse,  "  to  contrive  you 
should  have  six  months'  imprisonment  in  order  to  procure  you 
that  pleasure.  His  chapters  inspire  me  with  more  enthusi- 
asm than  even  poetry  itself.  And  the  noble  canon,  with 
what  true  chivalrous  feeling  he  confines  his  beautiful  expres- 


«0d  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sions  of  sorrow  to  the  death  of  the  gallant  and  high-bred 
knight,  of  whom  it  was  a  pity  to  see  the  fall,  such  was  his 
loyalty  to  his  king,  pure  faith  to  his  religion,  hardihood 
towards  his  enemy,  and  fidelity  to  his  lady-love  !  A^,  ie}ie- 
dicite !  how  he  will  mourn  over  the  fall  of  such  a  pearl  of 
knighthood,  be  it  on  the  side  he  happens  to  favor  or  on  the 
other  !  But,  truly,  for  sweeping  from  the  face  of  the  earth 
some  few  hundreds-  of  villain  churls,  who  are  born  but  to 
plough  it,  the  high-born  and  inquisitive  historian  has  marvel- 
lous little  sympathy ;  as  little,  or  less,  perhaps,  than  John 
Grahame  of  Claverhouse/' 

"  There  is  one  ploughman  in  your  possession,  General,  for 
whom,''  said  Morton,  '^in  despite  of  the  contempt  in  which 
you  hold  a  profession  which  some  philosophers  have  considered 
as  useful  as  that  of  a  soldier,  I  would  humbly  request  your 
favor/' 

"  You  mean,"  said  Claverhouse,  looking.at  a  memorandum- 
book,  '^oneHatherick — Hedderick — or — or — Headrigg.  Ay, 
Cuthbert,  or  Cuddie  Headrigg — here  I  have  him.  0,  never 
fear  him,  if  he  will  be  but  tractable.  The  ladies  of  Tillie- 
tudlem  made  interest  with  me  on  his  account  some  time  ago. 
He  is  to  marry  their  waiting-maid,  I  think.  He  will  be  al- 
lowed to  slip  off  easy,  unless  his  obstinacy  spoils  his  good 
fortune." 

**He  has  no  ambition  to  be  a  martyr,  I  believe,"  said 
Morton. 

*''Tis  the  better  for  him,"  said  Claverhouse.  '*  But,  be- 
sides,  although  the  fellow  had  more  to  answer  for.  I  should 
stand  his  friend  for  the  sake  of  the  blundering  gallantry  which 
threw  him  into  the  midst  of  our  ranks  last  night,  when  seek- 
ing assistance  for  you.  I  never  desert  any  man  who  trusts  me 
with  such  implicit  confidence.  But,  to  deal  sincerely  with 
you,  he  has  been  long  in  our  eye.  Here,  Halliday ;  bring  me 
up  the  black  book." 

The  sergeant,  having  committed  to  his  commander  thia 
ominous  record  of  the  disaffected,  which  was  arranged  in  al- 
phabetical order,  Claverhouse,  turning  over  the  leaves  as  he 
rode  on,  began  to  read  names  as  they  occurred. 

**Gumblegumption,  a  minister,  aged  50,  indulged,  close, 
sly,  and  so  forth — pooh  I  pooh  !  He — He — I  have  him  here — 
Heathercat ;  outlawed — a  preacher — a  zealous  Cameronian — 
keeps  a  conventicle  among  the  Campsie  Hills — tush  I  0,  here 
is  Headrigg — Cuthbert ;  his  mother  a  bitter  Puritan — himself 
a  simple  fellow,  like  to  be  forward  in  action,  but  of  no  genius 
for  plots,  more  for  the  la  and  than  the  head,  and  might  be 


OLD  MORTALITY  8W. 

drawn  to  the  right  side,  hut  for  his  attachment  to "     Here 

Olaverhoiise  looked  at  Morton,  and  then  shut  the  book  and 
changed  his  tone.  "  Faithful  and  true  are  words  never  thrown 
away  upon  me,  Mr.  Morton.  You  may  depend  on  the  young 
man's  safety. '^ 

^^  Does  it  not  revolt  a  mind  like  yours,"  said  Morton,  ''  to 
follow  a  system  which  is  to  be  supported  by  such  minute  in- 
quiries after  obscure  individuals  ?  " 

"  You  do  not  suppose  we  take  the  trouble  ? ''  said  the  Gen- 
eral, haughtily.  ^*  The  curates,  for  their  own  sakes,  willingly 
collect  all  these  materials  for  their  own  regulation  in  each  par- 
ish ;  they  know  best  the  black  sheep  of  the  flock.  I  have  had 
your  picture  for  three  years." 

'*  Indeed  ! "  replied  Morton.  "Will  you  favor  me  by  im- 
parting it  ?  " 

"  Willingly,"  said  Claverhonse  ;  *^  it  can  signify  little,  for 
you  cannot  avenge  yourself  on  the  curate,  as  you  will  probably 
leave  Scotland  for  some  time." 

This  was  spoken  in  an  indifferent  tone.  Morton  felt  an 
involuntary  shudder  at  hearing  words  which  implied  a  banish- 
ment from  his  native  land  ;  but  ere  he  answered,  Claverhouse 
proceeded  to  read,  *^  Henry  Morton,  son  of  Silas  Morton,  colonel 
of  horse  for  the  Scottish  Parliament,  nephew  and  apparent 
heir  of  Morton  of  Milnwood  ;  imperfectly  educated,  but  with 
spirit  beyond  his  years  ;  excellent  at  all  exercises ;  indifferent 
to  forms  of  religion,  but  seems  to  incline  to  the  Presbyterian  ; 
has  high-flown  and  dangerous  notions  about  liberty  of  thought 
and  speech,  and  hovers  between  a  latitudinarian  and  an  en- 
thusiast. Much  admired  and  followed  by  the  youth  of  his 
own  age  ;  modest,  quiet,  and  unassuming  in  manner,  but  in 

his  heart  peculiarly  bold  and  intractable.     He  is Here 

follow  three  red  crosses,  Mr.  Morton,  which  signify  triply 
dangerous.  You  see  how  important  a  person  you  are.  But 
what  does  this  fellow  want  ?  " 

A  horseman  rode  up  as  he  spoke,  and  gave  a  letter.  Claver- 
house glanced  it  over,  laughed  scornfully,  bade  him  tell  his 
master  to  send  his  prisoners  to  Edinburgh,  for  there  was  no 
answer  ;  and,  as  the  man  turned  back,  said  contemptuously  to 
Morton — ''  Here  is  an  ally  of  yours  deserted  from  you,  or 
rather,  I  should  say,  an  ally  of  your  good  friend  Burley. 
Hear  how  he  sets  forth  :  '  Dear  Sir ' — I  wonder  when  we 
were  such  intimates — ^  may  it  please  your  Excellency  to  accept 
my  humble  congratulations  on  the  victory' — hum — hum — 
'blessed  his  Majesty's  army.  I  pray  you  to  understand  I 
have  my  people  under  arms  to  take  and  intercept  all  fugitives. 


809  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  have  already  several  prisoners/  and  so  forth.  Subscribed 
Basil  Olifant.     You  know  the  fellow  by  name,  I  suppose  ?  " 

''  A  relative  of  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden/'  replied  Morton, 
'Mshenot  ?'' 

"  Ay/^  replied  Grahame,  ''  and  heir-male  of  her  father's 
family,  though  a  distant  one,  and  moreover  a  suitor  to  the  fair 
Edith,  though  discarded  as  an  unworthy  one  ;  but,  above  all,  a 
devoted  admirer  of  the  estate  of  Tillietudlem  and  all  thereunto 
belonging/' 

"He  takes  an  ill  mode  of  recommending  himself/'  said 
Morton,  suppressing  his  feelings,  *'  to  the  family  at  Tillietud- 
lem by  corresponding  with  our  unhappy  party." 

"  0,  this  precious  Basil  will  turn  cat  in  pan  with  any  man  !" 
replied  Claverhouse.  "  He  was  displeased  with  the  government 
because  they  would  not  overturn  in  his  favor  a  settlement  of 
the  late  Earl  of  Torwood,  by  which  his  lordship  gave  his  own 
estate  to  his  own  daughter  ;  he  was  displeased  with  Lady 
Margaret  because  she  avowed  no  desire  for  his  alliance,  and 
with  the  pretty  Edith  because  she  did  not  like  his  tall  ungainly 
person.  So  he  held  a  close  correspondence  with  Burley,  and 
raised  his  followers  with  the  purpose  of  helping  him,  providing 
always  he  needed  no  help — that  is,  if  you  had  beat  us  yesterday. 
And  now  the  rascal  pretends  he  was  all  the  while  proposing  the 
king's  service,  and,  for  aught  I  know,  the  council  will  receive 
his  pretext  for  current  coin,  for  he  knows  how  to  make  friends 
among  them  ;  and  a  dozen  scores  of  poor  vagabond  fanatics 
will  be  shot  or  hanged,  while  this  cunning  scoundrel  lies  hid 
under  the  double  cloak  of  loyalty,  well-lined  with  the  fox-fur 
of  hypocrisy/' 

With  conversation  on  this  and  other  matters  they  beguiled 
the  way,  Claverhouse  all  the  while  speaking  with  great  frank- 
ness to  Morton,  and  treating  him  rather  as  a  friend  and  com- 
panion than  as  a  prisoner  ;  so  that,  however  uncertain  of  his 
fate,  the  hours  he  passed  in  the  company  of  this  remarkable 
man  were  so  much  lightened  by  the  varied  play  of  his  imag- 
ination and  the  depth  of  his  knowledge  of  human  nature,  that, 
since  the  period  of  his  becoming  a  prisoner  of  war,  which  re- 
lieved him  at  once  from  the  cares  of  his  doubtful  and  danger- 
ous station  among  the  insurgents,  and  from  the  consequences 
of  their  suspicious  resentment,  his  hours  flowed  on  less  anx- 
iously than  at  any  time  since  his  having  commenced  actor 
in  public  life.  He  was  now,  with  respect  to  his  fortune,  like 
a  rider  who  has  flung  his  reins  on  the  horse's  neck,  and,  while 
he  abandoned  himself  to  circumstances,  was  at  least  relieved 
from  the  task  of  attempting  to  direct  them.     In  this  mood  he 


OLD  MORTALITY  809 

journeyed  on,  the  number  of  his  companions  being  continually 
augmented  by  detached  parties  of  horse  who  came  in  from 
every  quarter  of  the  country,  bringing  with  them,  for  the 
most  part,  the  unfortunate  persons  who  had  fallen  into  their 
power. 

At  length  they  approached  Edinburgh. 

"Our  council,"  said  Claverhouse,  "being  resolved,  I 
suppose,  to  testify  by  their  -present  exultation  the  extent  of 
their  former  terror,  have  decreed  a  kind  of  triumphal  entry  to 
us  victors  and  our  captives ;  but,  as  I  do  not  quite  approve  the 
taste  of  it,  I  am  willing  to  avoid  my  own  part  in  the  show,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  save  you  from  yours." 

So  saying,  he  gave  up  the  command  of  the  forces  to  Allan 
(now  a  lieutenant-colonel),  and  turning  his  horse  into  a  by- 
lane,  rode  into  the  city  privately,  accompanied  by  Morton  and 
two  or  three  servants.  When  Claverhouse  arrived  at  the 
quarters  wliich  he  usually  occupied  in  the  Canongate,  he 
assigned  to  his  prisoner  a  small  apartment,  with  an  intimation 
that  his  parole  confined  him  to  it  for  the  present. 

After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  spent  in  solitary  musing 
on  the  strange  vicissitudes  of  his  late  life,  the  attention  of 
Morton  was  summoned  to  the  window  by  a  great  noise  in  the 
street  beneath.  Trumpets,  drums,  and  kettle-drums  contended 
in  noise  with  the  shouts  of  a  numerous  rabble,  and  apprised 
him  that  the  royal  cavalry  were  passing  in  the  triumphal  at- 
titude which  Claverhouse  had  mentioned.  The  magistrates 
of  the  city,  attended  by  their  guard  of  halberds,  had  met  the 
victors  with  their  welcome  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  and  now 
preceded  them  as  a  part  of  the  procession.  The  next  object 
was  two  heads  borne  upon  pikes  ;  and  before  each  bloody  head 
were  carried  the  hands  of  the  dismembered  sufferers,  which 
were,  by  the  brutal  mockery  of  those  who  bore  them,  often  ap- 
proached towards  each  other  as  if  in  the  attitude  of  exhorta- 
tion or  prayer.  These  bloody  trophies  belonged  to  two  preach- 
ers who  had  fallen  at  Bothwell  Bridge.  After  them  came  a 
cart  led  by  the  executioner's  assistant,  in  which  were  placed 
Macbriarand  other  two  prisoners,  who  seemed  of  the  same 
profession.  They  were  bareheaded  and  strongly  bound,  yet 
looked  around  them  with  an  air  rather  of  triumph  than  dis- 
may, and  appeared  in  no  respect  moved  either  by  the  fate  of 
their  companions,  of  which  the  bloody  evidences  were  carried 
before  them,  or  by  dread  of  their  own  approaching  execution, 
which  these  preliminaries  so  plainly  indicated. 

Behind  these  prisoners,  thus  held  up  to  public  infamy  and 
derision,  came  a  body  of  horse,  brandishing  their  broadswords. 


810  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

and  filling  the  wide  street  with  acclamations,  which  were  an- 
swered by  the  tumultuous  outcries  and  shouts  of  the  rabble, 
who,  in  every  considerable  town,  are  too  happy  in  being  per- 
mitted to  huzza  for  anything  whatever  which  calls  them  to- 
gether. In  the  rear  of  these  troopers  came  the  main  body  of 
khe  prisoners,  at  the  head  of  whom  were  some  of  their  leaders, 
who  were  treated  with  every  circumstance  of  inventive  mock- 
ery and  insult.  Several  were  placed  on  horseback  with  their 
faces  to  the  animal's  tail  ;  others  were  chained  to  long  bars  of 
iron,  which  they  were  obliged  to  support  in  their  hands,  like 
the  galley-slaves  in  Spain  when  travelling  to  the  port  where 
they  are  to  be  put  on  shipboard.  The  heads  of  others  who 
had  fallen  were  borne  in  triumph  before  the  survivors,  some 
on  pikes  and  halberds,  some  in  sacks,  bearing  the  names  of 
the  slaughtered  persons  labelled  on  the  outside.  Such  were 
the  objects  who  headed  the  ghastly  procession,  who  seemed  as 
effectually  doomed  to  death  as  if  they  wore  the  sanbenitos  of 
the  condemned  heretics  in  an  auto-da-fe.  * 

Behind  them  came  on  the  nameless  crowd  to  the  number 
of  several  hundreds,  some  retaining  under  their  misfortunes 
a  sense  of  confidence  in  the  cause  for  which  they  suffered  cap- 
tivity, and  were  about  to  give  a  still  more  bloody  testimony  ; 
others  seemed  pale,  dispirited,  dejected,  questioning  in  their 
own  minds  their  prudence  in  espousing  a  cause  which  Provi- 
dence seemed  to  have  disowned,  and  looking  about  for  some 
avenue  through  which  they  might  escape  from  the  conse- 
quences of  their  rashness.  Others  there  were  who  seemed  in- 
capable of  forming  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  or  of  entertain- 
ing either  hope,  confidence,  or  fear,  but  who,  foaming  with 
thirst  and  fatigue,  stumbled  along  like  over-driven  oxen,  lost 
to  everything  but  their  present  sense  of  wretchedness,  and 
without  having  any  distinct  idea  whether  they  were  led  to  the 
shambles  or  to  the  pasture.  These  unfortunate  men  were 
guarded  on  each  hand  by  troopers,  and  behind  them  came  the 
main  body  of  the  cavalry,  whose  military  music  resounded 
back  from  the  high  houses  on  each  side  of  the  street,  and  min- 
gled with  their  own  songs  of  jubilee  and  triumph,  and  the 
wild  shouts  of  the  rabble. 

Morton  felt  himself  heart-sick  while  he  gazed  on  the  dismal 
spectacle,  and  recognized  in  the  bloody  heads,  and  still  mora 
miserable  and  agonized  features  of  the  living  sufferers,  faces 
which  had  been  familiar  to  him  during  the  brief  insurrection. 
He  sunk  down  in  a  chair  in  a  bewildered  and  stupefied  state, 
from  which  he  was  awakened  by  the  voice  of  Cuddie. 

♦  See  Prisoners'  Procession.    Note  82. 


OLD  MORTALITY  811 

"  Lord  forgie  ns,  sir ! "  said  the  poor  fellow,  his  teeth 
chattering  like  a  pair  of  nut-crackers,  his  hair  erect  like  boar'a 
bristles,  and  his  face  as  pale  as  that  of  a  corpse — ^'Lord  for- 

fie  us,  sir  !  we  maun  instantly  gang  before  the  council  !  0 
iord,  what  made  them  send  for  a  puir  body  like  me,  sac  mony 
braw  lords  and  gentles  !  And  there's  my  mither  come  on  the 
lang  tramp  frae  Glasgow  to  see  to  gar  me  testify,  as  she  ca's 
it,  that  is  to  say,  confess  and  be  hanged ;  but  deil  tak  me  if 
they  mak  sic  a  guse  o'  Cuddie,  if  I  can  do  better.  But  here's 
Claverhouse  himsell — the  Lord  preserve  and  forgie  us,  I  say 
anes  mair ! '' 

'*  You  must  immediately  attend  the  council,  Mr.  Morton,'* 
said  Claverhouse,  who  entered  while  Cuddie  spoke, ''  and  your 
servant  must  go  with  you.  You  need  be  under  no  apprehen- 
sion for  the  consequences  to  yourself  personally.  But  I  warn 
you  that  you  will  see  something  that  will  give  you  much  pain, 
and  from  which  I  would  willingly  have  saved  ycu,  if  I  had 
possessed  the  power.     My  carriage  waits  us  ;  shall  we  go  ?  *' 

It  will  be  readily  supposed  that  Morton  did  not  venture  to 
dispute  this  invitation,  however  unpleasant.  He  rose  and  ac- 
companied Claverhouse. 

"  I  must  apprise  you,"  said  the  latter,  as  he  led  the  way 
downstairs,  "that  you  will  get  off  cheap  ;  and  so  will  your 
servant,  provided  he  can  keep  his  tongue  quiet." 

Cuddie  caught  these  last  words  to  his  exceeding  joy. 

'^  Deil  a  fear  o'  me,"  said  he,  "  an  my  mither  disna  pit  her 
finger  in  the  pie." 

At  that  moment  his  shoulder  was  seized  by  old  Mause, 
who  had  contrived  to  thrust  herself  forward  into  the  lobby 
of  the  apartment. 

"  0,  hinny,  hinny  ! "  said  she  to  Cuddie,  hanging  upon 
his  neck,  "  glad  and  proud,  and  sorry  and  humbled  am  I,  a* 
in  ane  and  the  same  instant,  to  see  my  bairn  ganging  to  tes- 
tify for  the  truth  gloriously  with  his  mouth  in  council,  as  he 
did  with  his  weapon  in  the  field  ! " 

'^  Whist,  whist,  mither  ! "  cried  Cuddie,  impatiently. 
''  Odd,  ye  daft  wife,  is  this  a  time  to  speak  o'  thae  things  ? 
I  tell  ye  I'll  testify  naething  either  ae  gate  or  another.  I  hae 
spoken  to  Mr.  Poundtext,  and  I'll  tak  the  declaration,  or 
whate'er  they  ca'  it,  and  we're  a'  to  win  free  off  if  we  do  that. 
He's  gotten  life  for  himsell  and  a'  his  folk,  and  that's  a  min- 
ister for  my  siller  ;  I  like  nane  o'  your  sermons  that  end  in  a 
psalm  at  the  Grassmarket." 

'*  0,  Cuddie,  man,  laith  wad  I  be  they  suld  hurt  ye,"  said 
old  Mause,  divided  grievously  between  the  safety  of  her  son's 


813  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

soul  and  that  of  his  body  ;  ''  but  mind,  my  bonny  bairn,  y« 
hae  battled  for  the  faith,  and  dinna  let  the  dread  o^  losing 
creature  comforts  withdraw  ye  frae  the  gude  fight/^ 

"  Hout  tout,  mither,^'  replied  Cuddie,  ''  I  hae  fought 
e'en  ower  muckle  already,  and,  to  speak  plain,  I^m  wearied  o' 
the  trade.  I  hae  swaggered  wi^  a^  thae  arms,  and  muskets, 
and  pistols,  buff- coats,  and  bandoliers,  lang  eneugh,  and  I 
like  the  pleugh-paidle  a  hantle  better.  I  ken  naething  suld 
gar  a  man  fight — that's  to  say,  when  he's  no  angry — bye  and 
out-taken  the  dread  o'  being  hanged  or  killed  if  he  turns 
back." 

"  But,  my  dear  Cuddie,'' continued  the  persevering  Mause, 
'*  your  bridal  garment !  Oh,  hinny,  dinna  sully  the  marriage 
garment  ! " 

"  Awa',  awa',  mither,"  replied  Cuddie  ;  ^'  dinna  ye  see  the 
folks  waiting  for  me  ?  Never  fear  me  ;  I  ken  how  to  turn 
this  far  better  than  ye  do  ;  for  ye're  bleezing  awa'  about  mar- 
riage, and  the  job  is  how  we  are  to  win  bye  hanging." 

So  saying,  he  extricated  himself  out  of  his  mother's  em- 
braces, and  requested  the  soldiers  who  took  him  in  charge  to 
conduct  him  to  the  place  of  examination  without  delay.  He 
had  been  already  preceded  by  Claverhouse  and  Morton. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

My  native  land,  good  night  I 

Lord  Byron. 

The  privy  council  of  Scotland,  in  whom  the  practice  since 
the  union  of  the  crowns  vested  great  judicial  powers,  as  well 
as  the  general  superintendence  of  the  executive  department, 
was  met  in  the  ancient  dark  Gothic  room  adjoining  to  the 
House  of  Parliament  in  Edinburgh,  when  General  Grahame 
entered  and  took  his  place  among  the  members  at  the  council 
table. 

"  You  have  brought  us  a  leash  of  game  to-day.  General," 
said  a  nobleman  of  high  place  among  them.  **Here  is  a 
craven  to  confess,  a  cock  of  the  game,  to  stand  at  bay,  and 
what  shall  I  call  the  third.  General  ?  " 

**  Without  further  metaphor,  I  will  entreat  your  Grace  to 
call  him  a  person  in  whom  I  am  specially  interested,"  replied 
Claverhouse. 

"  And  a  Whig  into  the  bargain  ?  "  said  the  nobleman,  loll- 
ing out  a  tongue  which  was  at  all  times  too  big  for  his  mouth, 
and  accommodating  his  coarse  features  to  a  sneer,  to  which 
they  seemed  to  be  familiar. 

**  Yes,  please  your  Grace,  a  Whig,  as  your  Grace^was^in 
J.  641,"  replied  Claverhouse,  with  his  usualappeafance  of  im- 
"perturbable  civility. 

^'  He  has  you  there,  I  think,  my  Lord  Duke,"  said  one  of 
the  privy  councillors. 

"Ay,  ay,"  returned  the  Duke,  laughing,  "there's  no 
speaking  to  him  since  Drumclog ;  but  come,  bring  in  the 
prisoners  ;  and  do  you,  Mr.  Clerk,  read  the  record." 

The  clerk  read  forth  a  bond,  in  which  General  Grahame 
of  Claverhouse  and  Lord  Evandale  entered  themselves  securi- 
ties that  Henry  Morton,  younger  of  Milnwood,  should  go 
abroad  and  remain  in  foreign  parts  until  his  Majesty's  pleasure 
was  further  known,  in  respect  of  the  said  Henry  Morton's  ac- 
cession to  the  late  rebellion,  and  that  under  penalty  of  life  and 
limb  to  the  said  Henry  Morton,  and  of  ten  thousand  merks 
to  each  of  his  securities. 

813 


814  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'  Do  you  accept  of  the  king's  mercy  upon  these  terms,  Mr. 
Morton  ?  "  said  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale,  who  presided  in  the 
council. 

"  I  have  no  other  choice,  my  lord,*'  replied  Morton. 

*^Then  subscribe  your  name  in  the  record." 

Morton  did  so  without  reply,  conscious  that,  in  the  circum- 
stances of  his  case,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  have  escaped 
more  easily.  Macbriar,  who  was  at  the  same  instant  brought 
to  the  foot  of  the  council  table,  bound  upon  a  chair,  for  his 
weakness  prevented  him  from  standing,  beheld  Morton  in  the 
act  of  what  ke  accounted  apostasy. 

"  He  hath  summed  his  defection  by  owning  the  carnal 
power  of  the  tyrant ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  deep  groan.  *^A 
fallen  star  !  a  fallen  star  ! " 

*^  Hold  your  peace,  sir,"  said  the  Duke,  "  and  keep  your 
ain  breath  to  cool  your  ain  porridge  ;  ye'll  find  them  scalding 
hot,  I  promise  you.  Call  in  the  other  fellow,  who  has  some 
common  sense.  One  sheep  will  leap  the  ditch  when  another 
goes  first." 

Cuddie  w«va  introduced  unbound,  but  under  the  guard  of 
two  haioeraiers,  and  placed  beside  Macbriar  at  the  foot  of  the 
table.  The  poor  fellow  cast  a  piteous  look  around  him,  in 
which  were  mingled  awe  for  the  great  men  in  whose  presence 
he  stood,  and  compassion  for  his  fellow-sufferers,  with  no 
small  fear  of  the  personal  consequences  which  impended  over 
himself.  He  made  his  clownish  obeisances  with  a  double 
portion  of  reverence,  and  then  awaited  the  opening  of  the  aw- 
ful scene. 

**  Were  you  at  the  battle  of  Both  well  Brig  ?  "  was  the  first 
question  which  was  thundered  in  his  ears. 

Cuddie  meditated  a  denial,  but  had  sense  enough,  upon 
reflection,  to  discover  that  the  truth  would  be  too  strong  for 
him  ;  so  he  replied,  with  true  Caledonian  indirectness  of  re- 
sponse, "  I'll  no  say  but  it  may  be  possible  that  I  might  hae 
been  there." 

^'  Answer  directly,  you  knave — yes  or  no  ?  You  know  you 
were  there." 

"It's  no  for  me  to  contradict  your  Lordship's  Grace's 
honor,"  said  Cuddie. 

"  Once  more,  sir,  were  you  there  ? — yes  or  no  ?"  said  the 
Duke,  impatiently* 

"Dear  8tir,"affain  replied  Cuddie,  **how  can  ane  mind 
preceesely  where  they  hae  been  a'  the  days  o'  their  life  ?  " 

'*  Speak  out,  you  scoundrel,"  said  General  Dalzell,*  "  or 

*  See  DalzeU's  BrutaUty.    Note  33. 


OLD  MORTALITY  315 

ni  dash  your  teeth  out  with  my  dudgeon-haft !  Do  you  think 
we  can  stand  here  all  day  to  be  turning  and  dodging  with  you, 
like  greyhounds  after  a  hare  ?  " 

^'Aweel,  then,"  said  Cuddie,  ''since  naething  else  will 
please  ye,  write  down  that  I  cannot  deny  but  I  was  there." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  Duke,  ''  and  do  you  think  that  the 
rising  upon  that  occasion  was  rebellion  or  not  ? " 

''I^m  no  just  free  to  gie  my  opinion,  stir,"  said  the  cau- 
tious captive,  ''on  what  might  cost  my  neck  ;  but  I  doubt  it 
will  be  very  little  better." 

"Better  than  what?" 

"Just  than  rebellion,  as  your  honor  ca's  it,"  replied 
Cuddie. 

"  Well,  sir,  that's  speaking  to  the  purpose,"  replied  his 
Grace.  "  And  are  you  content  to  accept  of  the  king's  pardon 
for  your  guilt  as  a  rebel,  and  to  keep  the  church,  and  pray  for 
the  king?" 

"  Blithely,  stir,"  answered  the  unscrupulous  Cuddie  ;  "  and 
drink  his  health  into  the  bargain  when  the  ale's  gude." 

"Egad,"  said  the  Duke,  "this  is  a  hearty  cock.  What 
brought  you  into  such  a  scrape,  mine  honest  friend  ?  " 

"  Just  ill  example,  stir,"  replied  the  prisoner,  "  and  a  daft 
auld  jaud  of  a  mither,  wi'  reverence  to  your  Grace's  honor." 

"  Why,  God-a-mercy,  my  friend,"  replied  the  Duke,  "take 
care  of  bad  advice  another  time ;  I  think  you  are  not  likely  to 
commit  treason  on  your  own  score.  Make  out  his  free  par- 
don, and  bring  forward  the  rogue  in  the  chair." 

Macbriar  was  then  moved  forward  to  the  post  of  examina- 
tion. 

"  Were  you  at  the  battle  of  Both  well  Bridge  ?"  was,  in 
like  manner,  demanded  of  him. 

"  I  was,"  answered  the  prisoner,  in  a  bold  and  resolute  tone. 

"  Were  you  armed  ?" 

"I  was  not  :  I  went  in  my  calling  as  a  preacher  of  God's 
Word,  to  encourage  them  that  drew  the  sword  in  His  cause." 
"In  other  words,  to  aid  and  abet  the  rebels  ?"  said  the 
Duke. 

"  Thou  hast  spoken  it,"  replied  the  prisoner. 

"Well,  then,"  continued  the  interrogator,  "let  us  know 
if  you  saw  John  Balfour  of  Burley  among  the  party  ?  I  pre- 
sume you  know  him  ?  " 

"I  bless  God  that  I  do  know  him,"  replied  Macbriar; 
*'he  is  a  zealous  and  a  sincere  Christian." 

"  And  when  and  where  did  you  last  see  this  pious  person- 
age ?  "  was  the  query  which  immediately  followed. 


316  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'  I  am  here  to  answer  for  myself/'  said  Macbriar,  in  the 
same  dauntless  manner,  ^'  and  not  to  endanger  others." 

"We  shall  know,"  said  Dalzell,  "how  to  make  you  find 
your  tongue." 

"  If  you  can  make  him  fancy  himself  in  a  conventicle," 
answered  Lauderdale,  "he  will  find  it  without  you.  Come, 
laddie,  speak  while  the  play  is  good  ;  you're  too  young  to 
bear  the  burden  will  be  laid  on  you  else." 

"  I  defy  you,"  retorted  Macbriar.  "  This  has  not  been 
the  first  of  my  imprisonments  or  of  my  sufferings  ;  and,  young 
as  I  may  be,  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  know  how  to  die 
when  I  am  called  upon." 

"  Ay,  but  there  are  some  things  which  must  go  before  an 
easy  death,  if  you  continue  obstinate,"  said  Lauderdale,  and 
rung  a  small  silver  bell  which  was  placed  before  him  on  the 
table. 

A  dark  crimson  curtain,  which  covered  a  sort  of  niche  or 
Gothic  recess  in  the  wall,  rose  at  the  signal,  and  displayed 
the  public  executioner,  a  tall,  grim,  and  hideous  man,  having 
an  oaken  table  before  him,  on  which  lay  thumb-screws,  and 
an  iron  case,  called  the  Scottish  boot,  used  in  those  tyran- 
nical days  to  torture  accused  persons.  Morton,  who  was  un- 
prepared for  this  ghastly  apparition,  started  when  the  curtain 
arose  ;  but  Macbriar's  nerves  were  more  firm.  He  gazed  upon 
the  horrible  apparatus  with  much  composure ;  and  if  a  touch 
of  nature  called  the  blood  from  his  cheek  for  a  second,  reso- 
lution sent  it  back  to  his  brow  with  greater  energy. 

"  Do  you  know  who  that  man  is  ?"  said  Lauderdale,  in  a 
low,  stern  voice,  almost  sinking  into  a  whisper. 

"  He  is,  I  suppose,"  replied  Macbriar,  "  the  infamous  ex- 
ecutioner of  your  bloodthirsty  commands  upon  the  persons  of 
God's  people.  He  and  you  are  equally  beneath  my  regard ; 
and,  I  bless  God,  I  no  more  fear  what  he  can  inflict  than 
what  you  can  command.  Flesh  and  blood  may  shrink  under 
the  sufferings  you  can  doom  me  to,  and  poor  frail  nature  may 
shed  tears,  or  send  forth  cries ;  but  I  trust  my  soul  is  anchored 
firmly  on  the  rock  of  ages." 

"Do  your  duty,"  said  the  Duke  to  the  executioner. 

The  fellow  advanced,  and  asked,  with  a  harsh  and  discor- 
dant voice,  upon  which  of  the  prisoner's  limbs  he  should  first 
employ  his  engine. 

"  Let  him  choose  for  himself,"  said  the  Duke  ;  "I should 
like  to  oblige  him  in  anything  that  is  reasonable." 

"  Since  you  leave  it  to  me,"  said  the  prisoner,  stretchinjj 


OLD  MORTALITY  317 

forth  his  right  leg,  "take  the  best ;  I  willingly  bestow  it  in 
the  cause  for  which  I  suffer/'  * 

The  executioner,  with  the  help  of  his  assistants,  enclosed 
the  leg  and  knee  within  the  tight  iron  boot  or  case,  and  then 
placing  a  wedge  of  the  same  metal  between  the  knee  and  the 
edge  of  the  machine,  took  a  mallet  in  his  hand,  and  stood 
waiting  for  further  orders.  A  well-dressed  man,  by  profession 
a  surgeon,  placed  himself  by  the  other  side  of  the  prisoner's 
chair,  bared  the  prisoner's  arm,  and  applied  his  thumb  to  the 
pulse  in  order  to  regulate  the  torture  according  to  the  strength 
of  the  patient.  When  these  preparations  were  made,  the 
president  of  the  council  repeated  with  the  same  stern  voice  the 
question,  *'  When  and  where  did  you  last  see  John  Balfour  of 
Burley?" 

The  prisoner,  instead  of  replying  to  him,  turned  his  eyes 
to  Heaven  as  if  imploring  Divine  strength,  and  muttered  a 
few  words,  of  which  the  last  were  distinctly  audible,  "Thou 
hast  said  Thy  people  shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  Thy  power  V* 

The  Duke  of  Lauderdale  glanced  his  eye  around  the  council 
as  if  to  collect  their  suffrages,  and,  judging  from  their  mute 
signs,  gave  on  his  own  part  a  nod  to  the  executioner,  whose 
mallet  instantly  descended  on  the  wedge,  and,  forcing  it  between 
the  knee  and  the  iron  boot,  occasioned  the  most  exquisite 
pain,  as  was  evident  from  the- flush  which  instantly  took  place 
on  the  brow  and  on  the  cheeks  of  the  sufferer.  The  fellow 
then  again  raised  his  weapon  and  stood  prepared  to  give  a 
second  blow. 

"  Will  you  yet  say,"  repeated  the  Duke  of  Lauderdale, 
"  where  and  when  you  last  parted  from  Balfour  of  Burley  ?  " 

"You  have  my  answer,"  said  the  sufferer,  resolutely,  and 
the  second  blow  fell.  The  third  and  fourth  succeeded  ;  but 
at  the  fifth,  when  a  larger  wedge  had  been  introduced,  the 
prisoner  set  up  a  scream  of  agony. 

Morton,  whose  blood  boiled  within  him  at  witnessing  such 
cruelty,  could  bear  no  longer,  and,  although  unarmed  and 
himself  in  great  danger,  was  springing  forward,  when  Claver- 
house,  who  observed  his  emotion,  withheld  him  by  force,  laying 
one  hand  on  his  arm  and  the  other  on  his  mouth,  while  he 
whispered,  "For  God's  sake,  think  where  you  are  !" 

This  movement,  fortunately  for  him,  was  observed  by  no 
other  of  the  councillors,  whose  attention  was  engaged  with 
the  dreadful  scene  before  them. 

"  He  is  gone,"  said  the  surgeon — "he  has  fainted,  my  lords, 
and  human  nature  can  endure  no  more." 

*  This  was  the  reply  actually  made  by  James  Mitchell  when  subjected  to  th* 
torture  of  the  boot  for  an  attempt  to  assassinate  Archbishop  Sharp. 


818  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Release  him/'  said  the  Duke ;  and  added,  turning  U 
Dalzell,  '^  He  will  make  an  old  proverb  good,  for  he'll  scarce 
ride  to-day,  though  he  has  had  his  boots  on.  I  suppose  we 
must  finish  with  him  ?  " 

''Ay,  despatch  his  sentence  and  have  done  with  him  ;  we 
have  plenty  of  drudgery  behind/' 

Strong  waters  and  essences  were  busily  employed  to  recall 
the  senses  of  the  unfortunate  captive  ;  and  when  his  first  faint 
gasps  intimated  a  return  of  sensation,  the  Duke  pronounced 
sentence  of  death  upon  him,  as  a  traitor  taken  in  the  act  of 
open  rebellion,  and  adjudged  him  to  be  carried  from  the  bar  to 
the  common  place  of  execution,  and  there  hanged  by  the  neck  ; 
his  head  and  hands  to  be  stricken  off  after  death,  and  disposed 
of  according  to  the  pleasure  of  the  council,*  and  all  and  sun- 
dry his  movable  goods  and  gear  escheat  and  inbrought  to  his 
Majesty's  use. 

''Doomster,"  he  continued,  "  repeat  the  sentence  to  the 
prisoner." 

The  office  of  doomster  was  in  those  days,  and  till  a  much 
later  period,  held  by  the  executioner  in  commendam  with  his 
ordinary  functions,  f  The  duty  consisted  in  reciting  to  the 
unhappy  criminal  the  sentence  of  the  law  as  pronounced  by 
the  judge,  which  acquired  an  additional  and  horrid  emphasis 
from  the  recollection  that  the  hateful  personage  by  whom  it 
was  uttered  was  to  be  the  agent  of  the  cruelties  he  denounced. 
Macbriar  had  scarce  understood  the  purport  of  the  words  as 
first  pronounced  by  the  Lord  President  of  the  Council ;  but  he 
was  sufficiently  recovered  to  listen  and  to  reply  to  the  sentence 
when  uttered  by  the  harsh  and  odious  voice  of  the  ruffian  who 
was  to  execute  it,  and  at  the  last  awful  words,  *'  And  this  I 
pronounce  for  doom,"  he  answered  boldly,  *'  My  lords,  I  thank 
you  for  the  only  favor  I  looked  for,  or  would  accept  at  your 
hands,  namely,  that  you  have  sent  the  crushed  and  maimed 
carcass,  which  has  this  day  sustained  your  cruelty,  to  this 
hasty  end.  It  were  indeed  little  to  me  whether  I  perish  on 
the  gallows  or  in  the  prison-house  ;  but  if  death,  following 
close  on  what  I  have  this  day  suffered,  had  found  me  in  my  cell 
of  darkness  and  bondage,  many  might  have  lost  the  sight  how 
a  Christian  man  can  suffer  in  the  good  cause.  For  the  rest, 
I  forgive  you,  my  lords,  for  what  you  have  appointed  and  I 
have  sustained.  And  why  should  I  not  ?  Ye  send  me  to  a 
happy  exchange,  to  the  company  of  angels  and  the  spirits  of 
the  just  for  that  of  frail  dust  and  ashes.     Ye  send  me  from 

♦  See  Heads  of  the  Executed.    Note  84. 

t  See  a  uote  on  the  subject  of  this  office  in  the  Heart  of  Midlothian, 


OLD  MORTALITY  319 

darkness  into  day,  from  mortality  to  immortality,  and,  in  a 
word,  from  earth  to  heaven  !  If  the  thanks,  therefore,  and 
pardon  of  a  dying  man  can  do  you  good,  take  them  at  my 
hand,  and  may  your  last  moments  be  as  happy  as  mine  ! " 

As  he  spoke  thus,  with  a  countenance  radiant  with  joy 
and  triumph,  he  was  withdrawn  by  those  who  had  brought 
him  into  the  apartment,  and  executed  within  half  an  hour, 
dying  with  the  same  enthusiastic  firmness  which  his  whole  life 
had  evinced. 

The  council  broke  up,  and  Morton  found  himself  again  in 
the  carriage  with  General  Grahame. 

'*  Marvellous  firmness  and  gallantry  \"  said  Morton,  as  he 
reflected  upon  Macbriar's  conduct;  **what  a  pity  it  is  that 
with  such  self-devotion  and  heroism  should  have  been  mingled 
the  fiercer  features  of  his  sect ! " 

'^  You  mean,^'  said  Claverhouse,  *'  his  resolution  to  con- 
demn you  to  death  ?  To  that  he  would  have  reconciled  him- 
self by  a  single  text ;  for  example,  '  And  Phinehas  arose  and 
executed  judgment,'  or  something  to  the  same  purpose.  But 
wot  ye  where  you  are  now  bound,  Mr.  Morton  .'' " 

"  We  are  on  the  road  to  Leith,  I  observe,'' answered  Morton. 
*'  Can  1  not  be  permitted  to  see  my  friends  ere  I  leave  my  na- 
tive land?" 

"Your  uncle,''  replied  Grahame,  "has  been  spoken  to, 
and  declines  visiting  you.  The  good  gentleman  is  terrified, 
and  not  without  some  reason,  that  the  crime  of  your  treasoa 
may  extend  itself  over  his  lands  and  tenements  ;  he  sends  you, 
however,  his  blessing,  and  a  small  sum  of  money.  Lord 
Evandale  continues  extremely  indisposed.  Major  Bellenden 
is  at  Tillietudlem  putting  matters  in  order.  The  scoundrels 
have  made  great  havoc  there  with  Lady  Margaret's  muni- 
ments of  antiquity,  and  have  desecrated  and  destroyed  what  the 
good  lady  called  the  Throne  of  his  most  Sacred  Majesty.  Is 
there  any  one  else  whom  you  would  wish  to  see  ?  " 

Morton  sighed  deeply  as  he  answered,  **  No  ;  it  would  avail 
nothing.  But  my  preparations — small  as  they  are,  some  must 
be  necessary." 

"They  are  all  ready  for  you,"  said  the  General.  "  Lord 
Evandale  has  anticipated  all  you  wish.  Here  is  a  packet  from 
him  with  letters  of  recommendation  for  the  court  of  the 
Stadtholder  Prince  of  Orange,  to  which  I  have  added  one  or 
two.  I  made  my  first  campaigns  under  him,  and  first  saw  fire 
at  the  battle  of  Seneff.*     There  are  also  bills  of  exchange  for 

*  August,  1674.  Claverhouse  greatly  distinguished  himself  in  this  action,  and 
was  made  captain. 


820  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

your  immediate  wants,  and  more  will  be  sent  when  yon  re- 
quire it." 

Morton  heard  all  this  and  received  the  parcel  with  an  as- 
tounded and  confused  look,  so  sudden  was  the  execution  of  the 
sentence  of  banishment. 

*' And  my  servant  ?"  he  said. 

"  He  shall  be  taken  care  of,  and  replaced,  if  it  be  practi- 
cable, in  the  service  of  Lrady  Margaret  Bellenden  ;  I  think  he 
will  hardly  neglect  the  parade  of  the  feudal  retainers,  or  go  a- 
Whigging  a  second  time.  But  here  we  are  upon  the  quay, 
and  the  boat  waits  you." 

It  was  even  as  Claverhouse  said.  A  boat  waited  for  Cap- 
tain Morton,  with  the  trunks  and  baggage  belonging  to  his 
raufc.  Claverhouse  shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  wished  him 
good  fortune,  and  a  happy  return  to  Scotland  in  quieter 
times. 

''I  shall  never  forget,"  he  said,  ''the  gallantry  of  your 
behavior  to  my  friend  Evandale,  in  circumstances  when  many 
men  would  have  sought  to  rid  him  out  of  their  way." 

Another  friendly  pressure,  and  they  parted.  As  Morton 
descended  the  pier  to  get  into  the  boat,  a  hand  placed  in  his  a 
letter  folded  up  in  very  small  space.  He  looked  round.  The 
person  who  gave  it  seemed  much  muffled  up ;  he  pressed  his 
finger  upon  his  lip,  and  then  disappeared  among  the  crowd. 
The  incident  awakened  Morton's  curiosity ;  and  when  he 
found  himself  on  board  of  a  vessel  bound  for  Rotterdam,  and 
saw  all  his  companions  of  the  voyage  busy  making  their  own 
arrangements,  he  took  an  opportunity  to  open  the  billet  thus 
mysteriously  thrust  upon  him.  It  ran  thus :  "  Thy  courage 
on  the  fatal  day  when  Israel  fled  before  his  enemies  hath  in 
some  measure  atoned  for  thy  unhappy  owning  of  the  Erastian 
interest.  These  are  not  days  for  Ephraim  to  strive  with  Is- 
rael. I  know  thy  heart  is  with  the  daughter  of  the  stranger. 
But  turn  from  that  folly ;  for  in  exile,  and  in  flight,  and  even 
in  death  itself,  shall  my  hand  be  heavy  against  tliat  bloody 
and  Malignant  house,  and  Providence  hath  given  me  the 
means  of  meting  unto  them  with  their  own  measure  of  ruin 
and  confiscation.  The  resistance  of  their  stronghold  was  the 
main  cause  of  our  being  scattered  at  Bothwell  Bridge,  and  I 
have  bound  it  upon  my  soul  to  visit  it  upon  them.  Where- 
fore, think  of  her  no  more,  but  join  with  our  brethren  in  ban- 
ishment, whose  hearts  are  still  towards  this  miserable  land  to 
save  and  to  relieve  her.  There  is  an  honest  remnant  in  Hol- 
laud  whose  eyes  are  looking  out  for  deliverance.  Join  thy- 
self unto  them  like  the  true  son  of  the  stout  and  worthy  Silas 


OLD  MORTALITY  S81 

Morton,  and  thou  wilt  have  good  acceptance  among  them  for 
his  sake  and  for  thine  own  working.  Shouldst  thou  be  found 
worthy  again  to  labor  in  the  vineyard,  thou  wilt  at  all  times 
hear  of  my  incomings  and  outgoings,  by  inquiring  after  Quin- 
tin  Mackell  of  Irongray,  at  the  house  of  that  singular  Chris- 
tian woman,  Bessie  Maclure,  near  to  the  place  called  the 
Howff,  where  Niel  Blane  entertaineth  guests.  So  much  from 
him  who  hopes  to  hear  again  from  thee  in  brotherhood,  re- 
sisting unto  blood,  and  striving  against  sin.  Meanwhile, 
possess  thyself  in  patience.  Keep  thy  sword  girded,  and  thy 
lamp  burning,  as  one  that  wakes  in  the  night ;  for  He  who 
shall  judge  the  Mount  of  Esau,  and  shall  make  false  professors 
as  straw  and  Malignants  as  stubble,  will  come  in  the  fourth 
watch  with  garments  dyed  in  blood,  and  the  house  of  Jacob 
shall  be  for  spoil,  and  the  house  of  Joseph  for  fire.  I  am  he 
that  hath  written  it,  whose  hand  hath  been  on  the  mighty  in 
the  waste  field.  ^' 

This  extraordinary  letter  was  subscribed  J.  B.  of  B. ;  but 
the  signature  of  these  initials  was  not  necessary  for  point- 
ing out  to  Morton  that  it  could  come  from  no  other  than 
Burley.  It  gave  him  new  occasion  to  admire  the  indomitable 
spirit  of  this  man,  who,  with  art  equal  to  his  courage  and  ob- 
stinacy, was  even  now  endeavoring  to  re-establish  the  web  of 
conspiracy  which  had  been  so  lately  torn  to  pieces.  But  he 
felt  no  sort  of  desire  in  the  present  moment  to  sustain  a  cor- 
respondence which  must  be  perilous,  or  to  renew  an  associa- 
tion which,  in  so  many  ways,  had  been  nearly  fatal  to  him. 
The  threats  which  Burley  held  out  against  the  family  of  Bel- 
lenden,  he  considered  as  a  mere  expression  of  his  spleen  on 
account  of  their  defence  of  Tillietudlem  ;  and  nothing  seemed 
less  likely  than  that,  at  the  very  moment  of  their  party  being 
victorious,  their  fugitive  and  distressed  adversary  could  exer- 
cise the  least  influence  over  their  fortunes. 

Morton,  however,  hesitated  for  an  instant  whether  he 
should  not  send  the  Major  or  Lord  Evandale  intimation  of 
Burle/s  threats.  Upon  consideration,  he  thought  he  could 
not  do  so  without  betraying  his  confidential  correspondence  ; 
for  to  warn  themof  his  menaces  would  have  served  little  pur- 
pose, unless  he  had  given  them  a  clue  to  prevent  them,  by 
apprehending  his  person  ;  while,  by  doing  so,  he  deemed  he 
should  commit  an  ungenerous  breach  of  trust  to  remedy  an 
evil  which  seemed  almost  imaginary.  Upon  mature  consid- 
eration, therefore,  he  tore  the  letter,  having  first  made  a 
memorandum  of  the  name  and  place  where  the  writer  was  to 
be  heard  of,  and  threw  the  fragments  into  the  sea. 


b22  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

While  Morton  was  thus  employed  the  vessei  was  unmoored, 
and  the  white  sails  swelled  out  before  a  favorable  north-west 
wind.  The  ship  leaned  her  side  to  the  gale,  and  went  roar- 
ing through  the  waves,  leaving  a  long  and  rippling  furrow 
to  track  her  course.  The  city  and  port  from  which  he  had 
sailed  became  undistinguishable  in  the  distance  ;  the  hills  by 
which  they  were  surrounded  melted  finally  into  the  blue  sky, 
and  Morton  was  separated  for  several  years  from  the  land  of 
his  nativity. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

'\  Whomdoes  time  gallop  withal? 

ABYouLOeelt 

It  is  fortunate  for  tale-tellers  that  they  are  not  tied  down  like 
theatrical  writers  to  the  unities  of  time  and  place,  but  may 
conduct  their  personages  to  Athens  and  Thebes  at  their  pleas- 
ure, and  bring  them  back  at  their  convenience.  Time,  to 
use  Rosalindas  simile,  has  hitherto  paced  with  the  hero  of  our 
tale  ;  for,  betwixt  Morton's  first  appearance  as  a  competitor 
for  the  popinjay  and  his  final  departure  for  Holland  hardly 
two  months  elapsed.  Years,  however,  glided  away  ere  we  find 
it  possible  to  resume  the  thread  of  our  narrative,  and  Time 
must  be  held  to  have  galloped  over  the  interval.  Craving, 
therefore,  the  privilege  of  my  cast,  I  entreat  the  reader's  at- 
tention to  the  continuation  of  the  narrative,  as  it  starts  from 
a  new  era,  being  the  year  immediately  subsequent  to  the  British 
Revolution. 

Scotland  had  just  begun  to  repose  from  the  convulsion  oc- 
casioned by  a  change  of  dynasty,  and,  through  the  prudent 
tolerance  of  King  William,  had  narrowly  escaped  the  horrors 
of  a  protracted  civil  war.  Agriculture  began  to  revive  ;  and 
men,  whose  minds  had  been  disturbed  by  the  violent  political 
concussions  and  the  general  change  of  government  in  church 
and  state,  had  begun  to  recover  their  ordinary  temper,  and  to 
give  the  usual  attention  to  their  own  private  affairs  in  lieu  of 
discussing  those  of  the  public.  The  Highlanders  alone  resisted 
the  newly  established  order  of  things,  and  were  in  arms  in  a 
considerable  body  under  the  Viscount  of  Dundee,  whom  our 
readers  have  hitherto  known  by  the  name  of  Graham e  of 
Claverhouse.  But  the  usual  state  of  the  Highlands  was  so 
unruly  that  their  being  more  or  less  disturbed  was  not  sup- 
posed greatly  to  affect  the  general  tranquillity  of  the  coun- 
try, so  long  as  their  disorders  were  confined  within  their  own 
frontiers.  In  the  Lowlands,  the  Jacobites,  now  the  undermost 
party,  had  ceased  to  expect  any  immediate  advantage  by  open 
resistance,  and  were,  in  their  turn,  driven  to  hold  private 


324  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

meetings  and  form  associations  for  mutual  defence,  which  the 
government  termed  treason,  while  they  cried  out  persecution. 

The  triumphant  Whigs,  while  they  re-established  Presby- 
tery as  the  national  religion,  and  assigned  to  the  General  As- 
semblies of  the  Kirk  their  natural  influence,  were  very  far  from 
going  the  lengths  which  the  Cameronians  and  more  extrava- 
gant portion  of  the  Nonconformists  under  Charles  and  James 
loudly  demanded.  They  would  listen  to  no  proposal  for  re- 
establishing the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  ;  and  those  who 
had  expected  to  find  in  King  William  a  zealous  covenanted 
•monarch  were  grievously  disappointed  when  he  intimated,  with 
the  phlegm  peculiar  to  his  country,  his  intention  to  tolerate 
all  forms  of  religion  which  were  consistent  with  the  safety  of 
the  state.  The  principles  of  indulgence  thus  espoused  and 
gloried  in  by  the  government  gave  great  offence  to  the  more 
violent  party,  who  condemned  them  as  diametrically  contrary 
to  Scripture  ;  for  which  narrow-spirited  doctrine  they  cited 
various  texts,  all,  as  it  may  well  be  supposed,  detached  from 
their  context,  and  most  of  them  derived  from  the  charges  given 
to  the  Jews  in  the  Old  Testament  dispensation  to  extirpate 
idolaters  out  of  the  promised  land.  They  also  murmured 
highly  against  the  influence  assumed  by  secular  persons  in 
exercising  the  rights  of  patronage,  which  they  termed  a  rape 
upon  the  chastity  of  the  church.  They  censured  and  con- 
demned as  Erastian  many  of  the  measures  by  which  govern- 
ment after  the  Revolution  showed  an  inclination  to  interfere  . 
with  the  management  of  the  church,  and  they  positively  re- 
fused to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  King  William  and 
Queen  Mary  until  they  should,  on  their  part,  have  sworn  to 
the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant — the  Magna  Charta,  as  they 
termed  it — of  the  Presbyterian  Churcli. 

This  party,  therefore,  remained  grumbling  and  dissatis- 
fied, and  made  repeated  declarations  against  defections  and 
causes  of  wrath,  which,  had  they  been  prosecuted  as  in  the 
two  former  reigns,  would  have  led  to  the  -same  consequsnce 
of  open  rebellion.  But  as  the  murmurers  were  allowed  to 
hold  their  meetings  uninterrupted,  and  to  testify  as  much  as 
they  pleased  against  Socinianism,  Erastianism,  and  all  the 
compliances  and  defections  of  the  time,  their  zeal,  unfanned 
by  persecution,  died  gradually  away,  their  immbers  became 
diramished,  and  they  sunk  into  the  scattered  remnant  of  seri- 
ous, scrupulous,  and  harmless  enthusiasts  of  whom  Old  Mor- 
tality, whose  legends  have  afforded  the  groundwork  of  my  tale, 
may  be  taken  as  no  bad  representative.  But  in  the  years 
which  immediately  succeeded  the  Revolution,  tlie  Caraero- 


OLD  MORTALITY  325 

nians  continued  a  sect  strong  in  numbers  and  vehement  in  their 
political  opinions,  whom  government  wished  to  discourage, 
while  they  prudently  temporized  with  them.  These  men 
formed  one  violent  party  in  the  state  ;  and  the  Episcopalian 
and  Jacobite  interest,  notwithstanding  their  ancient  and  na- 
tional animosity,  yet  repeatedly  endeavored  to  intrigue  among 
them,  and  avail  themselves  of  their  discontents  to  obtain  their 
assistance  in  recalling  the  Stewart  family.  The  Eevolution- 
ary  government,  in  the  meanwhile,  was  supported  by  the 
great  bulk  of  the  Lowland  interest,  who  were  chiefly  disposed 
to  a  moderate  Presbytery,  and  formed  in  a  great  measure  the 
party  who,  in  the  former  oppressive  reigns,  were  stigmatized 
by  the  Cameronians  for  having  exercised  that  form  of  worship 
under  the  declaration  of  Indulgence  issued  by  Charles  II. 
Such  was  the  state  of  parties  in  Scotland  immediately  subse- 
quent to  the  Revolution. 

It  was  on  a  delightful  summer  evening  that  a  stranger, 
well  mounted,  and  having  the  appearance  of  a  military  man 
of  rank,  rode  down  a  winding  descent  which  terminated  in 
view  of  the  romantic  ruins  of  Both  well  Castle  and  the  river 
Clyde,  which  winds  so  beautifully  between  rocks  and  woods 
to  sweep  around  the  towers  formerly  built  by  Aymer  de  Valence. 
Both  well  Bridge  was  kt  a  little  distance,  and  also  in  sight. 
The  opposite  field,  once  the  scene  of  slaughter  and  conflict, 
now  lay  as  placid  and  quiet  as  the  surface  of  a  summer  lake. 
The  trees  and  bushes,  which  grew  around  in  romantic  variety  of 
shade,  were  hardly  seen  to  stir  under  the  influence  of  the  even- 
ing breeze.  The  very  murmur  of  the  river  seemed  to  soften 
itself  into  unison  with  the  stillness  of  the  scene  around. 

The  path  through  which  the  traveller  descended  was  occa- 
sionally shaded  by  detached  trees  of  great  size,  and  elsewhere 
by  the  hedges  and  boughs  of  flourishing  orchards,  now  laden 
with  summer  fruits.  The  nearest  object  of  consequence  was 
a  farmhouse,  or,  it  might  be,  the  abode  of  a  small  proprietor, 
situated  on  the  side  of  a  sunny  bank,  which  was  covered  by 
apple  and  pear  trees.  At  the  foot  of  the  path  which  led  up 
to  this  modest  mansion  was  a  small  cottage,  pretty  much  in 
the  situation  of  aporter'slodge,  though  obviously  not  designed 
for  such  a  purpose.  The  hut  seemed  comfortable,  and  more 
neatly  arranged  than  is  usual  in  Scotland.  It  had  its  little 
garden,  where  some  fruit-trees  and  bushes  were  mingled  with 
kitchen  herbs  ;  a  cow  and  six  sheep  fed  in  a  paddock  hard  by ; 
the  cock  strutted  and  crowed,  and  summoned  his  family  around 
him,  before  the  door ;  a  heap  of  brushwood  and  turf,  neatly 


\ 


326  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

made  up,  indicated  that  the  winter  fuel  was  provided  ;  and  the 
thin  blue  smoke  which  ascended  from  the  straw-bound  chim- 
ney, and  winded  slowly  out  from  among  the  green  trees, 
showed  that  the  evening  meal  was  in  the  act  of  being  made 
ready.  To  complete  the  little  scene  of  rural  peace  and  com- 
fort, a  girl  of  about  five  years  old  was  fetching  water  in  a 
pitcher  from  a  beautiful  fountain  of  the  purest  transparency, 
which  bubbled  up  at  the  root  of  a  decayed  old  oak-tree,  about 
twenty  yards  from  the  end  of  the  cottage. 

The  stranger  reined  up  his  horse  and  called  to  the  little 
nymph,  desiring  to  know  the  way  to  Fairy  Knowe.  The  child 
set  down  her  water-pitcher,  hardly  understanding  what  was 
said  to  her,  put  her  fair  flaxen  hair  apart  on  her  brows,  and 
opened  her  round  blue  eyes  with  the  wondering,  "What's  your 
wuU  ?  "  which  is  usually  a  peasant's  first  answer,  if  it  can  be 
called  one,  to  all  questions  whatever. 

*^I  wish  to  know  the  way  to  Fairy  Knowe.'' 

'*  Mammie,  mammie,"  exclaimed  the  little  rustic,  running 
towards  the  door  of  the  hut,  "come  out  and  speak  to  the  gen- 
tleman.^' 

Her  mother  appeared — a  handsome  young  countrywoman, 
to  whose  features,  originally  sly  and  espiegle  in  expression, 
matrimony  had  given  that  decent  matronly  air  which  pecul- 
iarly marks  the  peasant's  wife  of  Scotlarfd.  She  had  an  infant 
in  one  arm,  and  with  the  other  she  smoothed  down  her  apron, 
to  which  hung  a  chubby  child  of  two  years  old.  The  elder 
girl,  whom  the  traveller  had  first  seen,  fell  back  behind  her 
mother  as  soon  as  she  appeared,  and  kept  that  station,  occa- 
sionally peeping  out  to  look  at  the  stranger. 

"  What  was  your  pleasure,  sir  ?"  said  the  woman,  with  an 
air  of  respectful  breeding,  not  quite  common  in  her  rank  of 
life,  but  without  anythiag  resembling  forwardness. 

The  stranger  looked  at  her  with  great  earnestness  for  a 
moment,  and  then  replied,  "I  am  seeking  a  place  called  Fairy 
Knowe,  and  a  man  called  Outhbert  Headrigg.  You  can  prob- 
ably direct  me  to  him  ?  " 

"'  It's  my  gudeman,  sir,^'  said  the  young  woman,  with  a 
smile  of  welcome ;  "will  you  alight,  sir,  and  come  into  our 
puir  dwelling?  Cuddie,  Cuddie  [a  white-headed  rogue  of 
four  years  appeared  at  the  door  of  the  hut].  Rin  awa',  my 
bonny  man,  and  tell  your  father  a  gentleman  wants  him.  Or, 
stay—Jenny,  ye'll  hae  mair  sense,  rin  ye  awa'  and  tell  him  ; 
he's  down  at  the  Four-acres  Park.  Winna  ye  light  down  and 
bide  a  blink,  sir  ?  Or  would  ye  take  a  mouthfu  o'  bread  and 
cheese,  or  a  drink  o'  ale,  till  our  gudeman  comes  ?    It's  gude 


OLD  MORTALITY  327 

ale,  though  I  shouldna  say  sae  that  brews  it ;  but  ploughman 
lads  work  hard,  and  maun  hae  something  to  keep  their  hearts 
abune  by  ordinar,  sae  I  aye  pit  a  gude  gowpen  o"  maut  to  the 
browst/' 

As  the  stranger  declined  her  courteous  offers,  Cuddie,  the 
reader's  old  acquaintance,  made  his  appearance  in  person.  His 
countenance  still  presented  the  same  mixture  of  apparent  dul- 
ness  with  occasional  sparkles  which  indicated  the  craft  so  often 
found  in  the  clouted  shoe.  He  looked  on  the  rider  as  on  one 
whom  he  never  had  before  seen ;  and,  like  his  daughter  and 
wife,  opened  the  conversation  with  the  regular  query,  ''  What's 
your  wull  wi'  me,  sir  ?" 

"I  have  a  curiosity  to  ask  some  questions  about  this 
country, ''  said  the  traveller,  *'and  I  was  directed  to  you  as  an 
intelligent  man  who  can  answer  them/' 

*'  Nae  doubt,  sir,"  said  Cuddie,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. "'But  I  would  first  like  to  ken  what  sort  of  questions 
they  are.  I  hae  had  sae  many  questions  speered  at  me  in  my 
day,  and  in  sic  queer  ways,  that  if  ye  kenn'd  a'  ye  wadna  wonder 
at  my  jalousing  a' thing  about  them.  My  mother  gar'd  me 
learn  the  Single  Carritch,  whilk  was  a  great  vex  ;  then  I  be- 
hoved to  learn  about  my  godfathers  and  godmothers  to  please 
the  auld  leddy ;  and  whiles  I  jumbled  them  thegither  and 
pleased  nane  o'  them  ;  and  when  I  cam  to  man's  yestate,  cam 
another  kind  o'  questioning  in  fashion,  that  I  liked  waur  than 
'  effectual  calling  ; '  and  the  '  did  promise  and  vow '  of  the 
tane  were  yokit  to  the  end  o'  the  tother.  Sae  ye  see,  sir,  I 
aye  like  to  hear  questions  asked  before  I  answer  them." 

'*  You  have  nothing  to  apprehend  from  mine,  my  good 
friend  ;  they  only  relate  to  the  state  of  the  country." 

*' Country  !"  replied  Cuddie.  "  Ou,  the  country's  weel 
eneugh,  and  it  werena  that  dour  deevil,  Claver'se — they  ca* 
him  Dundee  now — that's  stirring  about  yet  in  the  Highlands, 
they  say,  wi'  a'  the  Donalds,  and  Duncans,  and  Dugalds  that 
ever  wore  bottomless  breeks  driving  about  wi'  him,  to  set 
things  asteer  again,  now  we  hae  gotten  them  a'  reasonably 
weel  settled.  But  Mackay  will  pit  him  down,  there's  little 
doubt  o'  that ;  he'll  gie  him  his  fairing,  I'll  be  caution  for 
it." 

"What  makes  you  so  positive  of  that,  my  friend  ?"  asked 
the  horseman. 

''  I  heard  it  wi'  my  ain  lugs,"  answered  Cuddie,  *'  foretauld 
to  him  by  a  man  that  had  been  three  hours  stane  dead,  and 
came  back  to  this  earth  again  just  to  tell  him  his  mind.  It 
Hn^  at  a  place  they  ca'  Drumshinnel," 


828  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"Indeed  ?^'  said  the  stranger  ;  "lean  hardly  believe  you, 
my  friend/' 

"Ye  might  ask  my  mither,  then,  if  she  were  in  life/' 
said  Cuddie  ;  "it  was  her  explained  it  a' to  me,  for  I  thought 
the  man  had  only  been  wounded.  At  ony  rate,  he  spake  of 
the  casting  out  of  the  Stewarts  by  their  very  names,  and  the 
vengeance  that  was  brewing  for  Olaver'se  and  his  dragoons. 
They  ca'd  the  man  Habakkuk  Mucklewrath  ;  his  brain  was  a 
wee  ajee,  but  he  was  a  braw  preacher  for  a'  that.'' 

"You  seem,"  said  the  stranger,  '^to  live  in  a  rich  and 
peaceful  country." 

"  It's  no  to  compleen  o',  sir,  an  we  get  the  crap  weel  in," 
quoth  Cuddie  ;  "  but  if  ye  had  seen  the  bluid  rinnin'  as  fast 
on  the  tap  o'  that  brig  yonder  as  ever  the  water  ran  below  it, 
ye  wadna  hae  thought  it  sae  bonny  a  spectacle." 

"  You  mean  the  battle  some  years  since  ?  I  was  waiting 
upon  Monmouth  that  morning,  my  good  friend,  and  did  see 
some  part  of  the  action,"  said  the  stranger. 

"  Then  ye  saw  a  bonny  stour,"  said  Cuddie,  "  that  sail 
serve  me  for  fighting  a'  the  days  o'  my  life.  I  judged  ye  wad 
be  a  trooper  by  your  red  scarlet  lace-coat  and  your  looped 
hat." 

^'  And  which  side  were  you  upon,  my  friend  ?  "  continued 
the  inquisitive  stranger. 

"  Aha,  lad,"  retorted  Cuddie,  with  a  knowing  look,  or  what 
he  designed  for  such,  "  there's  nae  use  in  telling  that,  unless 
I  kenn'd  wha  was  asking  me." 

"  I  commend  your  prudence,  but  it  is  unnecessary  ;  I  know 
you  acted  on  that  occasion  as  servant  to  Henry  Morton." 

"Ay!"  said  Cuddie,  in  surprise,  "how  cam  ye  by  that 
secret  ?  No  that  I  need  care  a  bodle  about  it,  for  the  sun's 
on  our  side  o'  the  hedge  now.  I  wish  my  master  were  living 
to  get  a  blink  o't." 

"  And  what  became  of  him  ?"  said  the  rider. 

"  He  was  lost  in  the  vessel  gaun  to  that  weary  Holland — 
clean  lost,  and  a'body  perished,  and  my  poor  master  amang 
them.  Neither  man  nor  mouse  was  ever  heard  o'  mair. "  Then 
Cuddie  uttered  a  groan. 

"You  had  some  regard  for  him,  then?"  continued  the 
stranger. 

"  How  could  I  help  it  ?  His  face  was  made  of  a  fiddle,  as 
they  say,  for  a'body  that  looked  on  him  liked  him.  And  a 
braw  soldier  he  was.  0,  an  ye  had  but  seen  him  down  at  the 
brig  there,  fleeing  about  like  a  fleeing  dragon  to  gar  folk  fight 
that  had  unco  little  will  till't  I    There  was  he  and  that  sour 


OLD  MORTALITY  S3$ 

Whigamore  they  ca'd  Biirley — if  twa  men  could  hae  won  a 
field,  we  wadna  hae  gotten  our  skins  paid  that  day/^ 

*^  You  mention  Burley.     Do  you  know  if  he  yet  lives  ?^' 

''  I  kenna  muckle  about  him.  Folk  say  he  was  abroad  and 
our  sufferers  wad  hold  no  communion  wi^  him,  because  o^  his 
having  murdered  the  iVrchbishop.  Sae  he  cam  hame  ten 
times  dourer  than  ever,  and  broke  aff  wi^  mony  o'  the  Presby- 
terians ;  and,  at  this  last  coming  of  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
he  could  get  nae  countenance  nor  command  for  fear  of  his 
deevilish  temper,  and  he  hasna  been  heard  of  since  ;  only  some 
folk  say  that  pride  and  anger  hae  driven  him  clean  wud/-* 

^'  And — and,"  said  the  traveller,  after  considerable  hesita- 
tion, ''  do  you  know  anything  of  Lord  Evandale  ?  " 

^'  Div  I  ken  ony thing  o^  Lord  Evandale  ?  Div  I  no?  Is 
not  my  young  leddy  up-bye  yonder  at  the  house,  that^s  as  gude 
as  married  to  him  ?  " 

'^  And  are  they  not  married,  then  F^said  the  rider,  hastily. 

''  No,  only  what  they  ca'  betrothed  ;  me  and  my  wife  were 
witnesses,  it's  no  mony  months  by-past.  It  was  a  lang  court- 
ship ;  few  folk  kenned  the  reason  bye  Jenny  and  mysell.  But 
will  ye  no  light  down  ?  I  downa  bide  to  see  ye  sitting  up  there, 
and  the  clouds  are  casting  up  thick  in  the  west  ower  Glasgow- 
ward,  and  maist  skeely  folk  think  that  bodes  rain." 

In  fact,  a  deep  black  cloud  had  already  surmounted  the 
setting  sun  ;  a  few  large  drops  of  rain  fell,  and  the  murmurs 
of  distant  thunder  were  heard. 

''  The  deirs  in  this  man,'*  said  Cuddie  to  himself  ;  "  I  wish 
he  would  either  light  aff  or  ride  on,  that  he  may  quarter  him- 
sell  in  Hamilton  or  the  shower  begin." 

But  the  rider  sat  motionless  on  his  horse  for  two  or  three 
moments  after  his  last  question,  like  one  exhausted  by  some 
uncommon  effort.  At  length,  recovering  himself  as  if  with  a 
sudden  and  painful  effort,  he  asked  Cuddie  '*  if  Lady  Mar- 
garet Bellenden  still  lived." 

'^She  does,"  replied  Cuddie,  ''but  in  a  very  sma'  way. 
They  hae  been  a  sad  changed  family  since  thae  rough  times 
began  ;  they  hae  suffered  eneugh  first  and  last  ;  and  to  lose  the 
auld  Tower  and  a'  the  bonny  barony  and  the  holms  that  I  hae 
pleughed  sae  often,  and  the  mains,  and  my  kale-yard,  that  I 
snld  hae  gotten  back  again,  and  a'  for  naething,  as  a  body  may 
say,  but  just  the  want  o'  some  bits  of  sheepskin  that  were  lost 
in  the  confusion  of  the  taking  of  Tillietudlem." 

"  I  have  heard  something  of  this,"  said  the  stranger, 
deepening  his  voice  and  averting  his  head.  ''  I  have  some 
interest  in  the  family,  and  would  willingly  help  them  if  I 


830  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

could.  Can  you  give  me  a  bed  in  your  house  to-night,  my 
friend  ?'' 

''It's  but  a  comer  of  a  place,  sir,''  said  Cuddie,  "butwe'se 
try,  rather  than  ye  suld  ride  on  in  the  rain  and  thunner  ;  for, 
to  be  free  wi'  ye,  sir,  I  think  ye  seem  no  that  ower  weel/' 

"  I  am  liable  to  a  dizziness,"  said  the  stranger,  *'  but  it  will 
soon  wear  off." 

*'I  ken  we  can  gie  ye  a  decent  supper,  sir,"  said  Cuddie ; 
*'  and  well  see  about  a  bed  as  weel  as  we  can.  "We  wad  be  laith 
a  stranger  suld  lack  what  we  have,  though  we  are  j imply  pro- 
vided for  in  beds  rather ;  for  Jenny  has  sae  mony  bairns — 
God  bless  them  and  her — that  troth  I  maun  speak  to  Lord 
Evandale  to  gie  us  a  bit  eik  or  outshot  o'  some  sort  to  the  on- 
stead." 

''  I  shall  be  easily  accommodated,"  said  the  stranger,  as  he 
entered  the  house. 

''And  ye  may  rely  on  your  naig  being  weel  sorted,"  said 
Cuddie  ;  "  I  ken  weel  what  belangs  to  suppering  a  horse,  and 
this  is  a  very  gude  ane." 

Cuddie  took  the  horse  to  the  little  cow-house,  and  called 
to  his  wife  to  attend  in  the  meanwhile  to  the  stranger's  accom- 
modation. The  officer  entered  and  threw  himself  on  a  settle 
at  some  distance  from  the  fire,  carefully  turning  his  back  to 
the  little  lattice  window.  Jenny,  or  Mrs.  Headrigg,  if  the 
reader  pleases,  requested  him  to  lay  aside  the  cloak,  belt,  and 
flapped  hat  which  he  wore  upon  his  journey,  but  he  excused 
himself  under  pretence  of  feeling  cold ;  and  to  divert  the 
time  till  Cuddle's  return  he  entered  into  some  chat  with  the 
children,  carefully  avoiding,  during  the  interval,  the  inquis- 
itive glances  of  his  landlady. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

What  tragic  tears  bedim  the  eye ! 
What  deaths  we  suffer  ere  we  die  1 
Our  broken  friendships  we  deplore, 
And  loves  of  youth  that  are  no  more. 

Logan. 

CuDDiE  soon  returned,  assuring  the  stranger,  with  a  cheerful 
voice,  '^  that  the  horse  was  properly  suppered  up,  and  that 
the  gudewif e  should  make  a  bed  up  for  him  at  the  house,  mair 
purpose-like  and  comfortable  than  the  like  o'  them  could  gie 

y  Are  the  family  at  the  house?''  said  the  stranger,  with 
an  interrupted  and  broken  voice. 

"  No,  stir  ;  they're  awa'  wi'  a'  the  servants — they  keep  only 
twa  nowadays — and  my  gudewife  there  has  the  keys  and  the 
charge,  though  shea's  no  a  f ee'd  servant.  She  has  been  born  and 
bred  in  the  family,  and  has  a'  trust  and  management.  If  they 
were  there  we  behovedna  to  take  sic  freedom  without  their 
order  ;  but  when  they  are  awa'  they  will  be  weel  pleased  we 
serve  a  stranger  gentleman.  Miss  Bellenden  wad  help  a'  the 
haill  warld,  an  her  power  were  as  gude  as  her  will ;  and  her 
grandmother,  Leddy  Margaret,  has  an  unco  respect  for  the 
gentry,  and  she's  no  ill  to  the  poor  bodies  neither.  And  now, 
wife,  what  for  are  ye  no  getting  forrit  wi'  the  sowens  ?  " 

"  Never  mind,  lad,"  rejoined  Jenny,  "ye  sail  hae  them  in 
gude  time ;  I  ken  weel  that  ye  like  your  brose  het." 

Ouddie  fidgeted,  and  laughed  with  a  peculiar  expression 
of  intelligence  at  this  repartee,  which  was  followed  by  a  dia- 
logue of  little  consequence  betwixt  his  wife  and  him,  in  which 
the  stranger  took  no  share.  At  length  he  suddenly  inter- 
rupted them  by  the  question — ^'  Can  you  tell  me  when  Lord 
Evandale's  marriage  takes  place  ?  " 

**  Very  soon,  we  expect,*'  answered  Jenny,  before  it  was 
possible  for  her  husband  to  reply  ;  *^^it  wad  hae  been  ower 
afore  now,  but  for  the  death  o'  auld  Major  Bellenden." 

''The  excellent  old  man  !"  said  the  stranger  ;  ''I  heard 
at  Edinburgh  he  was  no  more.     Was  he  long  ill  ?" 

"  He  couldna  be  said  to  hand  up  his  head  after  his 

881 


332  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

brother's  wife  and  his  niece  were  turned  out  o'  their  ain  house  ; 
and  he  had  himsell  sair  borrowing  siller  to  stand  the  law  ;  but 
it  was  in  the  latter  end  o'  King  James's  days,  and  Basil  Oli- 
fant,  who  claimed  the  estate,  turned  a  Papist  to  please  the 
managers,  and  then  nae thing  was  to  be  refused  him  ;  sae  the 
law  gaed  again  the  leddies  at  last,  after  they  had  fought  a 
weary  sort  o'  years  about  it ;  and,  as  I  said  before,  the  Major 
ne'er  held  up  his  head  again.  And  then  cam  the  pitting  awa' 
o'  the  Stewart  line ;  and,  though  he  had  but  little  reason  to 
like  them,  he  couldna  brook  that,  and  it  clean  broke  the  heart 
o'  him,  and  creditors  cam  to  Charnwood  and  cleaned  out  a'  that 
was  there  :  he  was  never  rich,  the  gude  auld  man,  for  he  dow'd 
na  see  onybody  want." 

'^  He  was  indeed,''  said  the  stranger,  with  a  faltering  voice, 
^'  an  admirable  man  ;  that  is,  I  have  heard  that  he  was  so. 
So  the  ladies  were  left  without  fortune  as  well  as  without  a 
protector  ?  " 

"  They  will  neither  want  the  tane  nor  the  tother  while  Lord 
Evandale  lives,"  said  Jenny  ;  "  he  has  been  a  true  friend  in 
their  griefs.  E'en  to  the  house  they  live  in  is  his  lordship's  ; 
and  never  man,  as  my  auld  gudemother  used  to  say,  since  the 
days  of  the  patriarch  Jacob,  served  sae  lang  and  sae  sair  for  a 
wife  as  gude  Lord  Evandale  has  dune." 

^^  And  why,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  voice  that  quivered 
with  emotion — '^  why  was  he  not  sooner  rewarded  by  the  ob- 
ject of  his  attachment  ?  " 

"  There  was  the  lawsuit  to  be  ended,"  said  Jenny,  readily, 
''  forbye  many  other  family  arrangements." 

*'  Na,  but,"  said  Cuddie,  "tliere  was  another  reason  for- 
bye ;  for  the  young  leddy " 

^'  Whisht,  hand  your  tongue  and  sup  your  so  wens,"  said 
his  wife.  ^'  I  see  the  gentleman's  far  frae  weel,  and  downa 
eat  our  coarse  supper  ;  I  wad  kill  him  a  chicken  in  an  instant." 

**  There  is  no  occasion,"  said  the  stranger  ;  '*  I  shall  want 
only  a  glass  of  water,  and  to  be  left  alone." 

"  You'll  gie  yoursell  the  trouble  then  to  follow  me,"  said 
Jenny,  lighting  a  small  lantern,  "  and  I'll  show  you  the  way." 

Cuddie  also  proffered  his  assistance  ;  but  his  wife  reminded 
him,  '^  That  the  bairns  would  be  left  to  fight  thegither  and 
coup  ane  anither  into  the  fire,"  so  that  he  remained  to  take 
charge  of  the  menage. 

His  wife  led  the  way  up  a  little  winding  path,  which, 
after  threading  some  thickets  of  sweetbriar  and  honeysuckle, 
conducted  to  the  back-door  of  a  small  garden.  Jenny  undid 
tha  latch,  and  they  passed  through  an  old-fashioned  flower- 


OLD  MORTALITY  333 

garden,  with  its  clipped  yew  hedges  and  formal  parterres,  to 
a  glass-sashed  door,  which  she  opened  with  a  master-key,  and 
"".ighting  a  candle,  which  she  placed  npon  a  small  work-table, 
asked  pardon  for  leaving  him  there  for  a  few  minutes  until 
she  prepared  his  apartment.  She  did  not  exceed  five  minutes 
in  these  preparations  ;  but  when  she  returned  was  startled  to 
nnd  that  the  stranger  had  sunk  forward  with  his  head  upon 
the  table,  in  what  she  at  first  apprehended  to  be  a  swoon.  As 
she  advanced  to  him,  however,  she  could  discover  by  his  short- 
drawn  sobs  that  it  was  a  paroxysm  of  mental  agony.  She 
prudently  drew  back  until  he  raised  his  head,  and  then  show- 
ing herself,  without  seeming  to  have  observed  his  agitation^ 
informed  him  that  his  bed  was  prepared.  The  stranger 
gazed  at  her  a  moment  as  if  to  collect  the  sense  of  her  words. 
She  repeated  them,  and  only  bending  his  head  as  an  indica- 
tion that  he  understood  her,  he  entered  the  apartment,  the 
door  of  which  she  pointed  out  to  him.  It  was  a  small  bed- 
chamber, used,  as  she  informed  him,  by  Lord  Evandale  when 
a  guest  at  Fairy  Knowe,  connecting  on  one  side  with  a  little 
china-cabinet  which  opened  to  the  garden,  and  on  the  other 
with  a  saloon,  from  which  it  was  only  separated  by  a  thin 
wainscot  partition.  Having  wished  the  stranger  better 
health  and  good  rest,  Jenny  descended  as  speedily  as  she  could 
to  her  own  mansion. 

"  0,  Ouddie  !  "  she  exclaimed  to  her  helpmate  as  she  en- 
tered, '^  I  doubt  we're  ruined  folk  ! " 

'*  How  can  that  be  ?  What's  the  matter  wi'  ye  ?''  returned 
the  imperturbed  Ouddie,  who  was  one  of  those  persons  who 
do  not  easily  take  alarm  at  anything. 

^'  Wha  d'ye  think  yon  gentleman  is  ?  0,  that  ever  ye 
suld  hae  asked  him  to  light  here  ! "  exclaimed  Jenny. 

"  Why,  wha  the  muckle  deil  d'ye  say  he  is  ?  There's  nae 
law  against  harboring  and  intercommunicating  now,"  said 
Ouddie  ;  *'  sae.  Whig  or  Tory,  what  need  we  care  wha  he  be  ?  " 

''^  Ay,  but  it's  ane  will  ding  Lord  Evandale's  marriage  ajee 
yet,  if  it's  no  the  better  looked  to,"  said  Jenny  ;  ^^it's  Miss 
Edith's  first  jo,  your  ain  auld  maister,  Ouddie." 

'^  The  deil,  woman!"  exclaimed  Ouddie,  starting  up, 
"  trow  ye  that  I  am  blind  ?  I  wad  hae  kenn'd  Mr.  Harry 
Morton  amang  a  hunder." 

"  Ay,  but,  Ouddie  lad,"  replied  Jenny,  ^^  though  ye  are  no 
blind,  ye  are  no  sae  notice-taking  as  I  am." 

^'  Weel,  what  for  needs  ye  cast  that  up  to  me  just  now  ?  or 
what  did  ye  see  about  the  man  that  was  like  our  Maister 
Harry?" 


334  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  I  will  tell  ye/'  said  Jenny.  *'  I  jaloused  his  keeping  his 
face  f  rae  us,  and  speaking  wi'  a  made-like  voice,  sae  I  e  en  tried 
him  wi'  some  tales  o'  lang  syne,  and  when  I  spake  o'  the  brose, 
ye  ken,  he  didna  just  laugh — he's  ower  grave  for  that  nowadays 
— but  he  gae  a  gledge  wi'  his  ee  that  I  kennM  he  took  up  what 
I  said.  And  a'  his  distress  is  about  Miss  Edith's  marriage, 
and  I  ne'er  saw  a  man  mair  taen  down  wi'  true  love  in  my 
days — I  might  say  man  or  woman,  only  I  mind  how  ill  Miss 
Edith  was  when  she  first  gat  word  that  him  and  you — ye  muckle 
graceless  loon — were  coming  against  Tillietudlem  wi'  the 
rebels.     But  what's  the  matter  wi'  the  man  now  ?  " 

"What's  the  matter  wi'  me,  indeed  ! "  said  Ouddie,  who 
was  again  hastily  putting  on  some  of  the  garments  he  had 
stripped  himself  of.  "  Am  I  no  gaun  up  this  instant  to  see 
my  maister  ?  " 

"  Atweel,  Ouddie,  ye  are  gaun  nae  sic  gate,"  said  Jenny, 
coolly  and  resolutely. 

**  The  deil's  in  the  wife ! "  said  Cuddle ;  '*  d'ye  think  I  am 
to  be  Joan  Tamson's  man,  and  maistered  by  women  a'  the 
days  o'  my  life  ?  " 

**  And  whase  man  wad  ye  be  ?  And  wha  wad  ye  hae  to  mais- 
ter ye  but  me,  Ouddie  lad  ?"  answered  Jenny.  'Til  gar  ye 
comprehend  in  the  making  of  a  hay-band.  Naebody  kens  that 
this  young  gentleman  is  living  but  oursells,  and  frae  that  he 
keeps  himsell  up  sae  close,  I  am  judging  that  he's  purposing 
if  he  fand  Miss  Edith  either  married  or  just  gaun  to  be  mar- 
ried, he  wad  just  slide  awa'  easy,  and  gie  them  nae  mair 
trouble.  But  if  Miss  Edith  kenn'd  that  he  was  living,  and  if 
she  were  standing  before  the  very  minister  wi'  Lord  Evandale 
when  it  was  tauld  to  her,  I'se  warrant  she  wad  say  '  No '  when 
she  suld  say  '  Yes.'" 

"  Weel,"  replied  Ouddie,  ''  and  what's  my  business  wi^ 
that  ?  If  Miss  Edith  likes  her  auld  jo  better  than  her  new 
ane,  what  for  suld  she  no  be  free  to  change  her  mind  like  other 
folk  ?  Ye  ken,  Jenny,  Halliday  aye  threeps  he  had  a  promise 
frae  yoursell." 

*'Halliday's  a  liar,  and  ye're  naething  but  a  gomeril  to 
hearken  till  him,  Ouddie.  And  then  for  this  leddy's  choice, 
lack-a-day  !  ye  may  be  sure  a'  the  gowd  Mr.  Morton  has  is  on 
the  outside  o'  his  coat,  and  how  can  he  keep  Leddy  Margaret 
and  the  young  leddy  ?  " 

"Isna  there  Milnwood  ?"  said  Ouddie.  "Nae doubt,  the 
auld  laird  left  his  housekeeper  the  life-rent,  as  he  heard  naught 
o'  his  nephew  ;  but  it's  but  speaking  the  auld  wife  fair,  and 
they  may  a'  live  brawly  thegither,  Leddy  Margaret  and  a'," 


OLD  MORTALITY  885 

"Hont  tout,  lad/'  replied  Jenny,  "ye  ken  them  little  to 
think  leddies  o'  their  rank  wad  set  up  house  wi'  auld  Ailie 
Wilson,  when  they're  maist  ower  proud  to  take  favors  frae 
Lord  Evandale  himsell.  Na,  na,  they  maun  follow  the  camp, 
if  she  tak  Morton/' 

''  That  wad  sort  ill  wi'  the  auld  leddy,  to  be  sure,"  said 
Ouddie  ;  "  she  wad  hardly  win  ower  a  lang  day  in  the  baggage- 
wain." 

"  Then  sic  a  flyting  as  there  wad  be  between  them,  a'  about 
Whig  and  Tory,"  continued  Jenny. 

'*  To  be  sure,"  said  Cuddie,  '^the  auld  leddy's  unco  kittle 
in  thae  points." 

"  And  then,  Cuddie,"  continued  his  helpmate,  who  had 
reserved  her  strongest  argument  to  the  last,  "  if  this  marriage 
wi'  Lord  Evandale  is  broken  off,  what  comes  o'  our  ain  bit 
free  house,  and  the  kale-yard,  and  the  cow's  grass  ?  I  trow 
that  baith  us  and  thae  bonny  bairns  will  be  turned  on  the 
wide  warld ! " 

Here  Jenny  began  to  whimper.  Cuddie  writhed  himself 
this  way  and  that  way,  the  very  picture  of  indecision.  At 
length  he  broke  out,  *'  Weel,  woman,  canna  ye  tell  us  what  we 
suld  do,  without  a'  this  din  about  it  ?" 

"Just  do  naething  at  a',"  said  Jenny.  "Never  seem  to 
ken  onything  about  this  gentleman,  and  for  your  life  say  a 
word  that  he  suld  hae  been  here,  or  up  at  the  house  !  An  I 
had  kenn'd,  I  wad  hae  gien  him  my  ain  bed  and  sleepit  in 
the  byre  or  he  had  gane  up-bye  :  but  it  canna  be  helpit  now. 
The  neist  thing's  to  get  him  cannily  awa'  the  morn,  and  I 
judge  he'll  be  in  nae  hurry  to  come  back  again." 

"  My  puir  maister  ! "  said  Cuddie ;  "  and  maun  I  no  speak 
to  him,  then  ?  " 

"For  your  life,  no,"  said  Jenny;  "ye're  no  obliged  to 
ken  him  ;  and  I  wadna  hae  tauld  ye,  only  I  feared  ye  wad  ken 
him  in  the  morning." 

"Aweel,"  said  Cuddie,  sighing  heavily,  "I'se  awa'  to 
pleugh  the  outfield,  then  ;  for,  if  I  am  no  to  speak  to  him,  I 
wad  rather  be  out  o'  the  gate." 

"  Yery  right,  my  dear  hinny,"  replied  Jenny  ;  "  naebody 
has  better  sense  than  you  when  ye  crack  a  bit  wi'  me  ower  your 
affairs,  but  ye  suld  ne'er  do  onything  aff-hand  out  o'  your  ain 
head." 

"  Ane  wad  think  it's  true,"  quoth  Cuddie  ;  "  for  I  hae  aye 
had  some  carline  or  quean  or  another  to  gar  me  gang  their 
gate  instead  o'  my  ain.  There  was  first  my  mither,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  he  undressed  and  tumbled  himself  into  bed  ;  "  then 


886  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

there  was  Leddy  Margaret  didna  let  me  ca'  my  soul  my  ain ; 
then  my  mither  and  her  quarrelled,  and  pu^ed  me  twa  ways  at 
anes,  as  if  ilk  ane  had  an  end  o'  me,  like  Punch  and  the  Deevil 
rugging  about  the  Baker  at  the  fair  ;  and  now  I  hae  gotten  a 
wife,"  he  murmured  in  continuation,  as  he  stowed  the  blankets 
around  his  person,  *'  and  she's  like  to  tak  the  guiding  o'  me  a' 
thegither." 

"  And  amna  I  the  best  guide  ye  ever  had  in  a'  your  life  ?'* 
said  Jenny,  as  she  closed  the  conversation  by  assuming  her 
place  beside  her  husband  and  extinguishing  the  candle. 

Leaving  this  couple  to  their  repose,  we  have  next  to  inform 
the  reader  that,  early  on  the  next  morning,  two  ladies  on 
horseback,  attended  by  their  servants,  arrived  at  the  house  of 
Fairy  Knowe,  whom,  to  Jenny's  utter  confusion,  she  instantly 
recognized  as  Miss  Bellenden  and  Lady  Emily  Hamilton,  a 
sister  of  Lord  Evandale. 

*'  Had  I  no  better  gang  to  the  house  to  put  things  to  rights  ?  " 
said  Jenny,  confounded  with  this  unexpected  apparition. 

"  We  want  nothing  but  the  pass-key,"  said  Miss  Bellenden. 
*'  Gudyill  will  open  the  windows  of  the  little  parlor." 

''  The  little  parlor's  locked,  and  the  lock's  spoiled,"  an- 
swered Jenny,  who  recollected  the  local  sympathy  between  that 
apartment  and  the  bedchamber  of  her  guest. 

"  In  the  red  parlor,  then,"  said  Miss  Bellenden,  and  rode  up 
to  the  front  of  the  house,  but  by  an  approach  different  from 
that  through  which  Morton  had  been  conducted. 

''  All  will  be  out,"  thought  Jenny,  **  unless  I  can  get  him 
emuggled  out  of  the  house  the  back  way."' 

So  saying,  she  sped  up  the  bank  in  great  tribulation  and 
uncertainty. 

"  I  had  better  hae  said  at  ance  there  was  a  stranger  there," 
was  her  next  natural  reflection.  **  But  then  they  wad  hae  been 
for  asking  him  to  breakfast.  0,  safe  us  !  what  will  I  do  ? 
And  there's  Gudyill  walking  in  the  garden,  too  ! "  she  ex- 
claimed internally,  on  approaching  the  wicket,  '^andldaurna 
gang  in  the  back  way  till  he's  aff  the  coast.  0,  sirs  !  what  will 
become  of  us  ?  " 

In  this  state  of  perplexity  she  approached  the  ci-deva7it 
butler,  with  the  purpose  of  decoying  hint  out  of  the  garden. 
But  John  Gudyill's  temper  was  not  improved  by  his  decline 
in  rank  and  increase  in  years.  Like  many  peevish  people, 
too,  he  seemed  to  have  an  intuitive  perception  as  to  what  was 
most  likely  to  teaze  those  whom  he  conversed  with  ;  and  on 
the  present  occasion  all  Jenny's  efforts  to  remove  him  from 
the  garden  served  only  to  root  him  in  it  as  fast  as  if  he  had 


OLD  MORTALITY  t&l 

been  one  of  the  shrubs.  Unluckily,  also,  he  had  commenced 
florist  during  his  residence  at  Fairy  Knowe,  and,  leaving  all 
other  things  to  the  charge  of  Lady  Emily^s  servant,  his  first 
care  was  dedicated  to  the  flowers,  which  he  had  taken  under 
his  special  protection,  and  which  he  propped,  dug,  and  watered, 
prosing  all  the  while  upon  their  respective  merits  to  poor  Jenny, 
who  stood  by  him  trembling,  and  almost  crying,  with  anxiety, 
fear,  and  impatience. 

Fate  seemed  determined  to  win  a  match  against  Jenny  this 
unfortunate  morning.  As  soon  as  the  ladies  entered  the  house 
they  observed  that  the  door  of  the  little  parlor,  the  very  apart- 
ment out  of  which  she  was  desirous  of  excluding  them  on  ac- 
count of  its  contiguity  to  the  room  in  which  Morton  slept, 
was  not  only  unlocked,  but  absolutely  ajar.  Miss  Bellenden 
was  too  much  engaged  with  her  own  immediate  subjects  of 
reflection  to  take  much  notice  of  the  circumstance,  but,  desir- 
ing the  servant  to  open  the  window-shutters,  walked  into  the 
room  along  with  her  friend. 

"  He  is  not  yet  come,''  she  said.  ''  What  can  your  brother 
possibly  mean  ?  Why  express  so  anxious  a  wish  that  we 
should  meet  him  here  ?  And  why  not  come  to  Castle  Din- 
nan,  as  he  proposed  ?  I  own,  my  dear  Emily,  that,  even  en- 
gaged as  w^e  are  to  each  other,  and  with  the  sanction  of  your 
presence,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  have  done  quite  right  in  indulge 
ing  him.'' 

"  Evandale  was  never  capricious,"  answered  his  sister ;  "I 
am  sure  he  will  satisfy  us  with  his  reasons,  and  if  he  does  not 
I  will  help  you  to  scold  him." 

'•^  What  I  chiefly  fear,"  said  Edith,  ''is  his  having  engaged 
in  some  of  the  plots  of  this  fluctuating  and  unhappy  time.  I 
know  his  heart  is  with  that  dreadful  Claverhouse  and  his  army, 
and  I  believe  he  would  have  joined  them  ere  now  but  for  my 
uncle's  death,  which  gave  him  so  much  additional  trouble  on 
our  account.  How  singular  that  one  so  rational  and  so  deeply 
sensible  of  the  errors  of  the  exiled  family  should  be  ready  to 
risk  all  for  their  restoration  ! " 

'^  What  can  I  say  ?"  answered  Lady  Emily ;  "  it  is  a  point 
of  honor  with  Evandale.  Our  family  have  always  been  loyal; 
he  served  long  in  the  Guards  ;  the  Viscount  of  *^  Dundee  was 
his  commander  and  his  friend  for  years  ;  he  is  looked  on  with 
an  evil  eye  by  many  of  his  own  relations,  who  set  down  his 
inactivity  to  the  score  of  want  of  spirit.  You  must  be  aware, 
my  dear  Edith,  how  often  family  connections  and  early 
predilections  influence  our  actions  more  than  absticict  argu- 
ments.    But  I  trust  Evandale  will  continue  quiet,  though,  to 


888  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tell  yon  tmtli,  I  believe  you  are  the  only  one  who  can  keei» 
him  so/' 

"  And  how  is  it  in  my  power  ?  "  said  Miss  Bellenden. 

"  You  can  furnish  him  with  the  Scriptural  apology  for  not 
going  forth  with  the  host :  *  He  has  married  a  wife,  and  there- 
fore cannot  come/'' 

"  I  have  promised,"  said  Edith,  in  a  faint  voice ;  "  but  I 
trust  I  shall  not  be  urged  on  the  score  of  time." 

''Nay,"  said  Lady  Emily,  "I  will  leave  Evandale — and 
here  he  comes — to  plead  his  own  cause." 

'*  Stay,  stay,  for  God's  sake  ! "  said  Edith,  endeavoring  to 
detain  her. 

''  Not  I — not  I,"  said  the  young  lady,  making  her  escape ; 
''  the  third  person  makes  a  silly  figure  on  such  occasions. 
When  you  want  me  for  breakfast  I  will  be  found  in  the  willow- 
walk  by  the  river." 

As  she  tripped  out  of  the  room.  Lord  Evandale  entered. 
''  Good-morrow,  brother,  and  good-bye  till  breakfast-time," 
said  the  lively  young  lady  ;  "I  trust  you  will  give  Miss  Bel- 
lenden some  good  reasons  for  disturbing  her  rest  so  early  in 
the  morning. 

And  so  saying,  she  left  them  together,  without  waiting  a 
reply. 

''  And  now,  my  lord,"  said  Edith, ''  may  I  desire  to  know 
the  meaning  of  your  singular,  request  to  meet  you  here  at  so 
early  an  hour  ?  " 

She  was  about  to  add,  that  she  hardly  felt  herself  excus- 
able in  having  complied  with  it ;  but,  upon  looking  at  the 
person  whom  she  addressed,  she  was  struck  dumb  by  the 
singular  and  agitated  expression  of  his  countenance,  and  in- 
terrupted herself  to  exclaim — ''  For  God's  sake,  what  is  the 
matter?" 

"His  Majesty's  faithful  subjects  have  gained  a  great  and 
most  decisive  victory  near  Blair  of  Athole ;  but,  alas !  my 
gallant  friend.  Lord  Dundee " 

''Has  fallen?"  said  Editli,  anticipating  the  rest  of  his 
tidings. 

"  True — most  true  ;  he  has  fallen  in  the  arms  of  victory, 
and  not  a  man  remains  of  talents  and  influence  sufficient  to 
fill  up  his  loss  in  King  James's  service.  This,  Edith,  is  no 
time  for  temporizing  with  our  duty.  I  have  given  directions 
to  raise  my  followers,  and  I  must  take  leave  of  you  this  even- 
ing." 

"Do  not  think  of  it,  my  lord,"  answered  Editb  ;  "your 
life  is  essential  to  your  friends  .•  ^o  not  throw  it  away  in  an  ad- 


OLD  MORTALITY  380 

venture  so  rash.  What  can  your  single  arm,  and  the  few 
tenants  or  servants  who  might  follow  you,  do  against  the  force 
of  almost  all  Scotland,  the  Highland  clans  only  excepted  ?  " 

*' Listen  to  me,  Edith,"  said  Lord  Evandale.  ''  I  am  not 
so  rash  as  you  may  suppose  me,  nor  are  my  present  motives  of 
such  light  importance  as  to  affect  only  those  personally  de- 
pendent on  myself.  The  Life  Guards,  with  whom  I  served  so 
long,  although  new-modelled  and  new-officered  by  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  retain  a  predilection  for  the  cause  of  their  rightful 
master ;  and  [and  here  he  whispered  as  if  he  feared  even  the 
walls  of  the  apartment  had  ears]  when  my  foot  is  known  to 
be  in  the  stirrup  two  regiments  of  cavalry  have  sworn  to  re- 
nounce the  usurper's  service  and  fight  under  my  orders.  They 
delayed  only  till  Dundee  should  descend  into  the  Lowlands  ; 
but,  since  he  is  no  more,  which  of  his  successors  dare  take 
that  decisive  step,  unless  encouraged  by  the  troops  declaring 
themselves  ?  Meantime,  the  zeal  of  the  soldiers  will  die  away. 
I  must  bring  them  to  a  decision  while  their  hearts  are  glow- 
ing with  the  victory  their  old  leader  has  obtained,  and  burn- 
ing to  avenge  his  untimely  death." 

'^  And  will  you,  on  the  faith  of  such  men  as  you  know 
these  soldiers  to  be,"  said  Edith,  ''  take  a  part  of  such  dread- 
ful moment  ?" 

*^  I  will,"  said  Lord  Evandale — "I  must ;  my  honor  and 
loyalty  are  both  pledged  for  it." 

"  And  all  for  the  sake,"  continued  Miss  Bellenden,  ''  of  a 
prince  whose  measures,  while  he  was  on  the  throne,  no  one 
could  condemn  more  than  Lord  Evandale  ?  " 

"  Most  true,"  replied  Lord  Evandale  ;  '^  and  as  I  resented, 
even  during  the  plenitude  of  his  power,  his  innovations  on 
church  and  state,  like  a  freeborn  subject,  I  am  determined  I 
will  assert  his  real  rights  when  he  is  in  adversity,  like  a  loyal 
one.  Let  courtiers  and  sycophants  flatter  power  and  desert 
misfortune  ;  I  will  neither  do  the  one  nor  the  other." 

''  And  if  you  are  determined  to  act  what  my  feeble  judg- 
ment must  still  term  rashly,  why  give  yourself  the  pain  oi 
this  untimely  meeting  ?  " 

"Were  it  not  enough  to  answer,"  said  Lord  Evandale, 
^'  that,  ere  rushing  on  battle,  I  wished  to  bid  adieu  to  my  be- 
trothed bride  ?  Surely  it  is  judging  coldly  of  my  feelings, 
and  showing  too  plainly  the  indifference  of  your  own,  to 
question  my  motive  for  a  request  so  natural." 

''  But  why  in  this  place,  my  lord  ?  "  said  Edith ;  "  and 
why  with  such  peculiar  circumstances  of  mystery  ?  " 

"  Because,"  he  replied,  putting  a  letter  into  her  hand,  *^I 


840  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

have  yet  another  request,  which  I  dare  hardly  proffer,  even 
when  prefaced  by  these  credentials/' 

In  haste  and  terror  Edith  glanced  over  the  letter,  which 
was  from  her  grandmother. 

"My  dearest  childe,^'  such  was  its  tenor  in  style  and  spell- 
ing, "I  never  more  deeply  regretted  the  reumatizm,  which 
disqualified  me  from  riding  on  horseback,  than  at  this  present 
writing,  when  I  would  most  have  wished  to  be  where  this 
paper  will  soon  be,  that  is  at  Fairy  Knowe,  with  my  poor 
dear  Willie's  only  child.  But  it  is  the  will  of  God  I  should 
not  be  with  her,  which  I  conclude  to  be  the  case,  as  much  for 
the  pain  I  now  suffer  as  because  it  hath  now  not  given  way 
either  to  cammomile  poultices  or  to  decoxion  of  wild  mustard, 
wherewith  I  have  often  relieved  others.  Therefore,  I  must 
tell  you,  by  writing  instead  of  word  of  mouth,  that,  as  my 
youn.g  Lord  Evandale  is  called  to  the  present  campaign  both 
by  his  honor  and  his  duty,  he  hath  earnestly  solicited  me 
that  the  bonds  of  holy  matrimony  be  knitted  before  his  de- 
parture to  the  wars  between  you  and  him,  in  implement  of 
the  indenture  formerly  entered  into  for  that  effeck,  where- 
untill,  as  I  see  no  raisonable  objexion,  so  I  trust  that  you,  who 
have  been  always  a  good  and  obedient  childe,  will  not  devize 
any  which  has  less  than  raison.  It  is  trew  that  the  contrax 
of  our  house  have  heretofore  been  celebrated  in  a  manner 
more  befitting  our  Rank,  and  not  in  private,  and  with  few 
witnesses,  as  a  thing  done  in  a  corner.  But  it  has  been  Heav- 
en's own  freewill,  as  well  as  those  of  the  kingdom  where  we 
live,  to  take  away  from  us  our  estate,  and  from  the  King  his 
throne.  Yet  I  trust  He  will  yet  restore  the  rightful  heir  to 
the  throne,  and  turn  his  heart  to  the  true  Protestant  Episco- 
pal faith,  which  I  have  the  better  right  to  expect  to  see  even 
with  my  old  eyes,  as  I  have  beheld  the  royal  family  when  they 
were  struggling  as  sorely  with  masterful  usurpers  and  rebels 
as  they  are  now  :  that  is  to  say,  when  his  most  sacred  Maj- 
esty, Charles  the  Second  of  happy  memory,  honored  our 
poor  house  of  Tillietudlem  by  taking  his  disjune  therein," 
etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

We  will  not  abuse  the  reader's  patience  by  quoting  more  of 
Lady  Margaret's  prolix  epistle.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  closed 
by  laying  her  commands  on  her  grandchild  to  consent  to  the 
solemnization  of  her  marriage  without  loss  of  time. 

"  I  never  thought  till  this  instant,"  said  Edith,  dropping 
the  letter  from  her  hand,  *'that  Lord  Evandale  would  have 
acted  ungenerously." 

*'  Ungenerously,  Edith  !"  replied  her  lover.     **  And  how 


OLD  MORTALITY  841 

can  yon  apply  snch  a  term  to  my  desire  to  call  yon  mine  ere  I 
part  from  you  perhaps  forever  ?  " 

^'  Lord  Evandale  ought  to  have  remembered,"  said  Edith, 
''that  when  his  perseverance,  and,  I  must  add,  a  due  sense  of 
his  merit  and  of  the  obligations  we  owed  him,  wrung  from  me 
a  slow  consent  that  I  would  one  day  comply  with  his  wishes, 
I  made  it  my  condition  that  I  should  not  be  pressed  to  a  hasty 
accomplishment  of  my  promise  ;  and  now  he  avails  himself  of 
his  interest  with  my  only  remaining  relative  to  hurry  me  with 
precipitate  and  even  indelicate  importunity.  There  is  more 
selfishness  then  generosity,  my  lord,  in  such  eager  and  urgent 
solicitation/' 

Lord  Evandale,  evidently  much  hurt,  took  two  or  three 
turns  through  the  apartment  ere  he  replied  to  this  accusation  ; 
at  length  he  spoke — ^'^  I  should  have  escaped  this  painful  charge, 
durst  I  at  once  have  mentioned  to  Miss  Bellenden  my  princi- 
pal reason  for  urging  this  request.  It  is  one  which  she  will 
probably  despise  on  her  own  account,  but  which  ought  to 
weigh  with  her  for  the  sake  of  Lady  Margaret.  My  death  in 
battle  must  give  my  whole  estate  to  my  heirs  of  entail ;  my 
forfeiture  as  a  traitor,  by  the  usurping  goverament,  may  vest 
it  in  the  Prince  of  Orange  or  some  Dutch  favorite.  In  either 
case,  my  venerable  friend  and  betrothed  bride  must  remain 
unprotected  and  in  poverty.  Vested  with  the  rights  and  pro- 
visions of  Lady  Evandale,  Edith  will  find,  in  the  power  of 
supporting  her  aged  parent,  some  consolation  for  having  con- 
descended to  share  the  titles  and  fortunes  of  one  who  does 
not  pretend  to  be  worthy  of  her.'' 

Edith  was  struck  dumb  by  an  argument  which  she  had  not 
expected,  and  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  Lord  Evan- 
dale's  suit  was  urged  with  delicacy  as  well  as  with  considera- 
tion. 

**And  yet,"  she  said,  ''such  is  the  waywardness  with 
which  my  heart  reverts  to  former  times,  that  I  cannot  [she 
burst  into  tears]  suppress  ^  degree  of  ominous  reluctance  at 
fulfilling  my  engagement  upon  such  a  brief  summons." 

"  We  have  already  fully  considered  this  painful  subject,"** 
said  Lord  Evandale  ;  "  and  I  hoped,  my  dear  Edith,  your 
own  inquiries,  as  well  as  mine,  had  fully  convinced  you  that 
these  regrets  were  fruitless." 

"Fruitless  indeed  !"  said  Edith,  with  a  deep  sigh,  which, 
as  if  by  an  unexpected  echo,  was  repeated  from  the  adjoining* 
apartment.  Miss  Bellenden  started  at  the  sound,  and  scarcely 
composed  herself  upon  Lord  Evandale's  assurances  that  she 
had  heard  but  the  echo  of  her  own  respiration. 


843  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*' It  sounded  strangely  distinct,"  she  said,  ''and  almost 
ominous  ;  but  my  feelings  are  so  harassed  that  the  slightest 
trifle  agitates  them." 

Lord  Evandale  eagerly  attempted  to  soothe  her  alarm,  and 
reconcile  her  to  a  measure  which,  however  hasty,  appeared 
to  him  the  only  means  by  which  he  could  secure  her  inde- 
pendence. He  urged  his  claim  in  virtue  of  the  contract,  her 
frandmother's  wish  and  command,  the  propriety  of  insuring 
er  comfort  and  independence,  and  touched  lightly  on  his 
own  long  attachment,  which  he  had  evinced  by  so  many  and 
such  varied  services.  These  Edith  felt  the  more  the  less  they 
were  insisted  upon ;  and  at  length,  as  she  had  nothing  to 
oppose  to  his  ardor  excepting  a  causeless  reluctance,  which 
she  herself  was  ashamed  to  oppose  against  so  much  generos- 
ity, she  was  compelled  to  rest  upon  the  impossibility  of  hav- 
ing the  ceremony  performed  upon  such  hasty  notice  at  such 
a  time  and  place.  But  for  all  this  Lord  Evandale  was  pre- 
pared, and  he  explained  with  joyful  alacrity  that  the  former 
chaplain  of  his  regiment  was  in  attendance  at  the  lodge  with 
e.  faithful  domestic,  once  a  non-commissioned  officer  in  the 
same  corps  ;  that  his  sister  was  also  possessed  of  the  secret ; 
and  that  Headrigg  and  his  wife  might  be  added  to  the  list  of 
witnesses,  if  agreeable  to  Miss  Bellenden.  As  to  the  place, 
he  had  chosen  it  on  very  purpose.  The  marriage  was  to  re- 
main a  secret,  since  Lord  Evandale  was  to  depart  in  disguise 
very  soon  after  it  was  solemnized,  a  circumstance  which,  had 
their  union  been  public,  must  have  drawn  upon  him  the  at- 
tention of  the  government,  as  being  altogether  unaccountable, 
unless  from  his  being  engaged  in  some  dangerous  design. 
Having  hastily  urged  these  motives  and  explained  his  arrange- 
ments, he  ran,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  to  summon  his 
sister  to  attend  his  bride,  while  he  went  in  search  of  the  other 
persons  whose  presence  was  necessary. 

When  Lady  Emily  arrived,  she  found  her  friend  in  an  agony 
of  tears,  of  which  she  was  at  some  loss  to  comprehend  the 
reason,  being  one  of  those  damsels  who  think  there  is  nothing 
either  wonderful  or  terrible  in  matrimony,  and  joining  with 
most  who  knew  him  in  thinking  that  it  could  not  be  rendered 
peculiarly  alarming  by  Lord  Evandale  being  the  bridegroom, 
lufluenced  by  these  feelings,  she  exhausted  in  succession  all 
the  usual  arguments  for  courage,  and  all  the  expressions  of 
sympathy  and  condolence  ordinarily  employed  on  such  occa- 
sions. But  when  Lady  Emily  beheld  her  future  sister-in-law 
deaf  to  all  those  ordinary  topics  of  consolation  ;  when  she  beheld 
tears  follow  fast  and  without  intermission  down  cheeks  as 


OLD  MORTALITY  84» 

pale  as  marble  ;  when  she  felt  that  the  hand  which  she  pressed 
in  order  to  enforce  her  arguments  turned  cold  within  her 
grasp,  and  lay,  like  that  of  a  corpse,  insensible  and  unrespon- 
sive to  her  caresses,  her  feelings  of  sympathy  gave  way  to  those 
of  hurt  pride  and  pettish  displeasure. 

^^I  must  own,''  she  said,  "  that  I  am  something  at  a  loss 
to  understand  all  this.  Miss  Bellenden.  Months  have  passed 
since  you  agreed  to  marry  my  brother,  and  you  have  postponed 
the  fulfilment  of  your  engagement  from  one  period  to  another, 
as  if  you  had  to  avoid  some  dishonorable  or  highly  disagreeable 
connection.  I  think  I  can  answer  for  Lord  Evandale  that  he 
will  seek  no  woman's  hand  against  her  inclination  ;  and,  though 
his  sister,  I  may  boldly  say  that  he  does  not  need  to  urge  any 
lady  further  than  her  inclinations  carry  her.  You  will  forgive 
me.  Miss  Bellenden,  but  your  present  distress  augurs  ill  for 
my  brother's  future  happiness,  and  I  must  needs  say  that  he 
does  not  merit  all  these  expressions  of  dislike  and  dolor,  and 
that  they  seem  an  odd  return  for  an  attachment  which  he  has 
manifested  so  long  and  in  so  many  ways." 

**  You  are  right.  Lady  Emily,"  said  Edith,  drying  her  eyes 
and  endeavoring  to  resume  her  natural  manner,  though  still 
betrayed  by  her  faltering  voice  and  the  paleness  of  her  cheeks 
— "  you  are  qViite  right ;  Lord  Evandale  merits  such  usage  from 
no  one,  least  of  all  from  her  whom  he  has  honored  with  his 
regard.  But  if  I  have  given  way,  for  the  last  time,  to  a  sud- 
den and  irresistible  burst  of  feeling,  it  is  my  consolation.  Lady 
Emily,  that  your  brother  knows  the  cause,  that  I  have  hid 
nothing  from  him,  and  that  he  at  least  is  not  apprehensive  of 
finding  in  Edith  Bellenden  a  wife  undeserving  of  his  affection. 
But  still  you  are  right,  and  I  merit  your  censure  for  indulging 
for  a  moment  fruitless  regret  and  painful  remembrances.  It 
shall  be  so  no  longer  ;  my  lot  is  cast  with  Evandale,  and  with 
him  I  am  resolved  to  bear  it.  Nothing  shall  in  future  occur 
to  excite  his  complaints  or  the  resentment  of  his  relations ;  no 
idle  recollections  of  other  days  shall  intervene  to  prevent  the 
zealous  and  affectionate  discharge  of  my  duty  ;  no  vain  illusions 
recall  the  memory  of  other  days " 

As  she  spoke  these  words,  she  slowly  raised  her  eyes,  which 
had  before  been  hidden  by  her  hand,  to  the  latticed  window  of 
her  apartment,  which  was  partly  open,  uttered  a  dismal  shriek, 
and  fainted.  Lady  Emily  turned  her  eyes  in  the  same  direc- 
tion, but  saw  only  the  shadow  of  a  man,  which  seemed  to  dis- 
appear from  the  window,  and  terrified  more  by  the  state  of 
Edith  than  by  the  apparition  she  had  herself  witnessed,  she 
uttered  shriek  upon  shriek  for  assistance.     Her  brother  soon 


344  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

arrived  with  the  chaplain  and  Jenny  Dennison ;  but  strong 
and  vigorous  remedies  were  necessary  ere  they  could  recall 
Miss  Bellenden  to  sense  and  motion.  Even  then  her  language 
was  wild  and  incoherent. 

*'  Press  me  no  further/'  she  said  to  Lord  Evandale ;  *'  it 
cannot  be  :  Heaven  and  earth,  the  living  and  the  dead,  have 
leagued  themselves  against  this  ill-omened  union.  Take  all  I 
can  give,  my  sisterly  regard,  my  devoted  friendship.  I  will 
love  you  as  a  sister  and  serve  you  as  a  bondswoman,  but  never 
speak  to  me  more  of  marriage." 

The  astonishment  of  Lord  Evandale  may  easily  be  con- 
ceived. 

"  Emily,"  he  said  to  his  sister,  "  this  is  your  doing ;  I  was 
accursed  when  I  thought  of  bringing  you  here  ;  some  of  your 
confounded  folly  has  driven  her  mad  ! " 

"  On  my  word,  brother,"  answered  Lady  Emily,  "you're 
sufficient  to  drive  all  the  women  in  Scotland  mad.  Because 
your  mistress  seems  much  disposed  to  jilt  you,  you  quarrel  with 
your  sister,  who  has  been  arguing  in  your  cause,  and  had 
brought  her  to  a  quiet  hearing,  when  all  of  a  sudden  a  man 
looked  in  at  a  window,  whom  her  crazed  sensibility  mistook 
either  for  you  or  some  one  else,  and  has  treated  us  gratis  with 
an  excellent  tragic  scene." 

'*  What  man  ?  What  window  ?"  said  Lord  Evandale,  in 
impatient  displeasure.  **  Miss  Bellenden  is  incapable  of  tri- 
fling with  me  ;  and  yet  what  else  could  have " 

*'  Hush  !  hush  !"  said  Jenny,  whose  interest  lay  particu- 
larly in  shifting  further  inquiry ;  "for  Heaven's  sake,  my 
lord,  speak  low,  for  my  lady  begins  to  recover." 

Edith  was  no  sooner  somewhat  restored  to  herself  than  she 
begged,  in  a  feeble  voice,  to  be  left  alone  with  Lord  Evandale. 
All  retreated,  Jenny  with  her  usual  air  of  officious  simplicity. 
Lady  Emily  and  the  chaplain  with  that  of  awakened  curiosity. 
No  sooner  had  they  left  the  apartment  than  Edith  beckoned 
Lord  Evandale  to  sit  beside  her  on  the  couch  ;  her  next  motion 
was  to  take  his  hand,  in  spite  of  his  surprised  resistance,  to 
her  lips  ;  her  last  was  to  sink  from  her  seat  and  to  clasp  his 
knees. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  lord  ! "  she  exclaimed — "  forgive  me  I  I 
must  deal  most  untruly  by  you,  and  break  a  solemn  engage- 
ment. You  have  my  friendship,  my  highest  regard,  my  most 
sincere  gratitude.  You  have  more  :  you  have  my  word  and  my 
faith.  But,  0,  forgive  me,  for  the  fault  is  not  mine — you  have 
not  my  love,  and  I  cannot  marry  you  without  a  sin  I " 

"You  dream,  my  dearest  Edith  I"  said  Evandale,  per- 


OLD  MORTALITY  8<f$ 

plexed  in  the  utmost  degree  ;  "  you  let  yonr  imagination  be- 
guile you ;  this  is  but  some  delusion  of  an  over-sensitive  mind. 
The  person  whom  you  preferred  to  me  has  been  long  in  a  better 
world,  where  your  unavailing  regret  cannot  follow  him,  or,  if 
it  could,  would  only  diminish  his  happiness/^ 

'^  You  are  mistaken.  Lord  Evandale,'^  said  Edith,  solemnly, 
'^lam  not  a  sleep-walker  or  a  madwoman.  No  ;  I  could  not 
have  believed  from  any  one  what  I  have  seen.  But,  having 
seen  him,  I  must  believe  mine  own  eyes." 

"Seen  him? — seen  whom?'^  asked  Lord  Evandale,  in 
great  anxiety. 

"  Henry  Morton,"  replied  Edith,  uttering  these  two  words 
as  if  they  were  her  last,  and  very  nearly  fainting  when  she  had 
done  so. 

"Miss  Bellenden,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "you  treat  me 
like  a  fool  or  a  child.  If  you  repent  your  engagement  to  me," 
he  continued,  indignantly,  "I  am  not  a  man  to  enforce  it 
against  your  inclination ;  but  deal  with  me  as  a  man,  and  for- 
bear this  trifling." 

He  was  about  to  go  on,  when  he  perceived,  from  her  quiv- 
ering eye  and  pallid  cheek,  that  nothing  was  less  intended  than 
imposture,  and  that  by  whatever  means  her  imagination  had 
been  so  impressed,  it  was  really  disturbed  by  unaffected  awe 
and  terror.  He  changed  his  tone,  and  exerted  all  his  eloquence 
in  endeavoring  to  soothe  and  extract  from  her  the  secret  cause 
of  such  terror. 

"  I  saw  him  ! "  she  repeated — "  I  saw  Henry  Morton  stand 
at  that  window,  and  look  into  the  apartment  at  the  moment 
I  was  on  the  point  of  abjuring  him  forever.  His  face  was 
darker,  thinner,  and  paler  than  it  was  wont  to  be  ;  his  dress 
was  a  horseman's  cloak,  and  hat  looped  down  over  his  face ; 
his  expression  was  like  that  he  wore  on  that  dreadful  morn- 
ing when  he  was  examined  by  Claverhouse  at  Tillietudlem. 
Ask  your  sister — ask  Lady  Emily,  if  she  did  not  see  him  as 
well  as  I.  I  know  what  has  called  him  up  ;  he  came  to  up- 
braid me,  that,  while  my  heart  was  with  him  in  the  deep  and 
dead  sea,  I  was  about  to  give  my  hand  to  another.  My  lord, 
it  is  ended  between  you  and  me  ;  be  the  consequences  what 
they  will,  she  cannot  marry  whose  union  disturbs  the  repose 
of  the  dead."* 

"Good  heaven  !"  said  Evandale,  as  he  paced  the  room, 
half  mad  himself  with  surprise  and  vexation,  "  her  fine  under- 
standing must  be  totally  overthrown,  and  that  by  the  effort 
which  she  has  made  to  comply  with  my  ill-timed,  though  well"* 

*  See  Supposed  Apparition  of  Morton.    Note  35. 


846  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

meant,  request.  Without  rest  and  attention  her  health  is 
ruined  forever/' 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  Halliday,  who  had 
been  Lord  Evandale's  principal  personal  attendant  since  they 
both  left  the  Guards  on  the  Revolution,  stumbled  into  the 
room  with  a  countenance  as  pale  and  ghastly  as  terror  could 
paint  it. 

"What  is  the  matter  next,  Halliday  ?''  cried  his  master, 
starting  up.     "  Any  discovery  of  the " 

He  had  just  recollection  sufficient  to  stop  short  in  the 
midst  of  the  dangerous  sentence. 

"No,  sir,'' said  Halliday,  "it is  not  that,  nor an3rthing like 
that ;  but  I  have  seen  a  ghost ! " 

"  A  ghost !  you  eternal  idiot ! "  said  Lord  Evandale,  forced 
altogether  out  of  his  patience.  "  Has  all  mankind  sworn  to 
go  mad  in  order  to  drive  me  so  ?  What  ghost,  you  simple- 
ton ?" 

"  The  ghost  of  Henry  Morton,  the  Whig  captain  at  Both- 
well  Bridge,"  replied  Halliday.  "  He  passed  by  me  like  a  fire- 
flaught  when  I  was  in  the  garden  ! " 

"  This  is  midsummer  madness,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "  or 
there  is  some  strange  villany  afloat.  Jenny,  attend  your  lady 
to  her  chamber,  while  I  endeavor  to  find  a  clue  to  all  this." 

But  Lord  Evandale's  inquiries  were  in  vain.  Jenny,  who 
might  have  given,  had  she  chosen,  a  very  satisfactory  explana- 
tion, had  an  interest  to  leave  the  matter  in  darkness  ;  and  in- 
terest was  a  matter  which  now  weighed  principally  with  Jenny, 
since  the  possession  of  an  active  and  affectionate  husband  m 
her  own  proper  right  had  altogether  allayed  her  spirit  of  co- 
quetry. She  had  made  the  best  use  of  the  first  moments  of 
confusion  hastily  to  remove  all  traces  of  any  one  having  slept 
in  the  apartment  adjoining  to  the  parlor,  and  even  to  erase 
the  mark  of  footsteps  beneath  the  window,  through  which  she 
conjectured  Morton's  face  had  been  seen,  while  attempting, 
ere  he  left  the  garden,  to  gain  one  look  at  her  whom  he  had 
so  long  loved,  and  was  now  on  the  point  of  losing  forever. 
That  he  had  passed  Halliday  in  the  garden  was  equally  clear  ; 
and  she  learned  from  her  elder  boy,  whom  she  had  employed 
to  have  the  stranger's  horse  saddled  and  ready  for  his  depart- 
ure, that  he  had  rushed  into  the  stable,  thrown  the  child  a 
broad  gold  piece,  and,  mounting  his  horse,  had  ridden  with 
fearful  rapidity  down  towards  the  Clyde.  The  secret  was, 
therefore,  in  their  own  family,  and  Jenny  was  resolved  it  should 
remain  so. 

"For,  to  be  iure,"  she  said,  "although  her  lady  and  Hal- 


Halliday.... stumbled  into  the  room.... pale  and  ghastly. 


OLD  MORTALITY  347 

liday  keim'd  Mr.  Morton  by  broad  daylight,  that  was  nae  reason 
I  suld  own  to  kenning  him  in  the  gloaming  and  by  candle- 
light, and  him  keeping  his  face  frae  Cuddie  and  me  a'  the 
time/' 

So  she  stood  resolutely  upon  the  negative  when  examined 
by  Lord  Evandale.  As  for  Halliday,  he  could  only  say  that, 
as  he  entered  the  garden-door,  the  supposed  apparition  met 
him  walking  swiftly,  and  with  a  visage  on  which  anger  and 
grief  appeared  to  be  contending. 

*'He  knew  him  well,''  he  said,  "having  been  repeatedly 
guard  upon  him,  and  obliged  to  write  down  his  marks  of  stat- 
ure and  visage  in  case  of  escape.  And  there  were  few  faces 
like  Mr.  Morton's."  But  what  should  make  him  haunt  the 
country  where  he  was  neither  hanged  nor  shot,  he,  the  said 
Halliday,  did  not  pretend  to  conceive. 

Lady  Emily  confessed  she  had  seen  the  face  of  a  man  at 
the  window,  but  her  evidence  went  no  further.  John  Gud- 
yill  deponed  nil  novit  in  causa.  He  had  left  his  gardening 
to  get  his  morning  dram  just  at  the  time  when  the  appari- 
tion had  taken  place.  Lady  Emily's  servant  was  waiting 
orders  in  the  kitchen,  and  there  was  not  another  being  within 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  house. 

Lord  Evandale  returned  perplexed  and  dissatisfied  in  the 
highest  degree  at  beholding  a  plan  which  he  thought  neces- 
sary not  less  for  the  protection  of  Edith  in  contingent  cir- 
cumstances than  for  the  assurance  of  his  own  happiness,  and 
which  he  had  brought  so  very  near  perfection,  thus  broken  off 
without  any  apparent  or  rational  cause.  His  knowledge  of 
Edith's  character  set  her  beyond  the  suspicion  of  covering 
any  capricious  change  of  determination  by  a  pretended  vi- 
sion. But  he  would  have  set  the  apparition  down  to  the  influ- 
ence of  an  overstrained  imagination,  agitated  by  the  circum- 
stances in  which  she  had  so  suddenly  been  placed,  had  it  not 
been  for  the  coinciding  testimony  of  Halliday,  who  had  no 
reason  for  thinking  of  Morton  more  than  any  other  person, 
and  knew  nothing  of  Miss  Bellenden's  vision  when  he  pro- 
mulgated his  own.  On  the  other  hand,  it  seemed  in  the 
highest  degree  improbable  that  Morton,  so  long  and  so  vainly 
sought  after,  and  who  was,  with  such  good  reason,  supposed 
to  be  lost  when  the  "Vryheid"of  Eotterdam  went  down 
with  crew  and  passengers,  should  be  alive  and  lurking  in  this 
country,  where  there  was  no  longer  any  reason  why  he  should 
not  openly  show  himself,  since  the  present  government  fa- 
vored his  party  in  politics.  When  Lord  Evandale  reluctantly 
brought  himfielf  to  communicate  these  doubts  to  the  chaplain. 


848  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  order  to  obtain  his  opinion,  he  could  only  obtain  a  long  lecture 
on  demonology,  in  which,  after  quoting  Delrio,  and  Bur- 
thoog,  and  De  L'Ancre,  on  the  subject  of  apparitions,  together 
with  sundry  civilians  and  common  lawyers  on  the  nature  of 
testimony,  the  learned  gentleman  expressed  his  definite  and 
determined  opinion  to  be,  either  that  there  had  been  an 
actual  apparition  of  the  deceased  Henry  Morton^s  spirit,  the 
possibility  of  which  he  was,  as  a  divine  and  a  philosopher, 
neither  fully  prepared  to  admit  nor  to  deny ;  or  else,  that  the 
said  Henry  Morton,  being  still  in  rerum  natura,  had  appeared 
in  his  proper  person  that  morning ;  or,  finally,  that  some 
strong  deceptio  visus,  or  striking  similitude  of  person,  had 
deceived  the  eyes  of  Miss  Bellenden  and  of  Thomas  Halliday. 
Which  of  these  was  the  most  probable  hypothesis,  the  Doctor 
declined  to  pronounce,  but  expressed  himself  ready  to  die  in 
the  opinion  that  one  or  other  of  them  had  occasioned  that 
morning's  disturbance. 

Lord  Evandale  soon  had  additional  cause  for  distressful 
anxiety.     Miss  Bellenden  was  declared  to  be  dangerously  ill. 

"I  will  not  leave  this  place, ''' he  exclaimed,  *^till  she  is 
pronounced  to  be  in  safety.  I  neither  can  nor  ought  to  do 
so ;  for,  whatever  may  have  been  the  immediate  occasion  of 
her  illness,  I  gave  the  first  cause  for  it  by  my  unhappy  solici- 
tation." 

He  established  himself,  therefore,  as  a  guest  in  the  family, 
which  the  presence  of  his  sister  as  well  as  of  Lady  Margaret 
Bellenden — who,  in  despite  of  her  rheumatism,  caused  herself 
to  be  transported  thither  when  she  heard  of  her  granddaugh- 
ter's illness — rendered  a  step  equally  natural  and  delicate. 
And  thus  he  anxiously  awaited  until,  without  injury  to  her 
health,  Edith  could  sustain  a  final  explanation  ere  his  depart- 
ure on  his  expedition. 

"She  shall  never,''  said  the  generous  young  man,  "look 
on  her  engagement  with  me  as  the  means  of  fettering  her  to 
a  union  the  idea  of  which  seems  almost  to  unhinge^her  under- 
standing/^ 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

Ah,  happy  hills  I  ah,  pleasing  shades  ! 

Ah,  fields  beloved  in  vain  ! 
Where  once  my  careless  childhood  stray 'd, 

A  stranger  yet  to  pain. 

Ode  on  a  Distant  Prospeet  of  Eton  College. 

It  is  not  by  corporal  wants  and  infirmities  only  that  men  of 
the  most  distinguished  talents  are  levelled,  during  their  life- 
time, with  the  common  mass  of  mankind.  There  are  periods 
of  mental  agitation  when  the  firmest  of  mortals  must  be  ranked 
with  the  weakest  of  his  brethren  ;  and  when,  in  paying  the 
general  tax  of  humanity,  his  distresses  are  even  aggravated 
by  feeling  that  he  transgresses,  in  the  indulgence  of  his  grief, 
the  rules  of  religion  and  philosophy  by  which  he  endeavors  in 
general  to  regulate  his  passions  and  his  actions.  It  was  dur- 
ing such  a  paroxysm  that  the  unfortunate  Morton  left  Fairy 
Knowe.  To  know  that  his  long-loved  and  still-beloved  Edith, 
whose  image  had  filled  his  mind  for  so  many  years,  was  on  the 
point  of  marriage  to  his  early  rival,  who  had  laid  claim  to  her 
heart  by  so  many  services  as  hardly  left  her  a  title  to  refuse 
his  addresses,  bitter  as  the  intelligence  was,  yet  came  not  as  an 
unexpected  blow. 

During  his  residence  abroad  he  had  once  written  to  Edith. 
It  was  to  bid  her  farewell  forever,  and  to  conjure  her  to  for- 
get him.  He  had  requested  her  not  to  answer  his  letter,  yet 
he  half  hoped  for  many  a  day  that  she  might  transgress  his 
injunction.  The  letter  never  reached  her  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed, and  Morton,  ignorant  of  its  miscarriage,  could  only 
conclude  himself  laid  aside  and  forgotten,  according  to  his 
own  self-denying  request.  All  that  he  had  heard  of  their 
mutual  relations  since  his  return  to  Scotland  prepared  him  to 
expect  that  he  could  only  look  upon  Miss  Bellenden  as  the  be- 
trothed bride  of  Lord  Evandale ;  and,  even  if  freed  from  the 
burden  of  obligation  to  the  latter,  it  would  still  have  been 
inconsistent  with  Morton^s  generosity  of  disposition  to  disturb 
their  arrangements,  by  attempting  the  assertion  of  a  claim, 
proscribed  by  absence,  never  sanctioned  by  the  consent  of 

849 


860  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

friends,  and  barred  by  a  thousand  circumstances  of  difficulty. 
Why,  then,  did  he  seek  the  cottage  which  their  broken  for- 
tunes had  now  rendered  the  retreat  of  Lady  Margaret  Bellen- 
den  and  her  granddaughter  ?  He  yielded,  we  are  under  the 
necessity  of  acknowledging,  to  the  impulse  of  an  inconsistent 
wish,  which  many  might  have  felt  in  his  situation. 

Accident  apprised  him,  while  travelling  towards  his  native 
district,  that  the  ladies,  near  whose  mansion  he  must  neces- 
sarily pass,  were  absent ;  and  learning  that  Cuddie  and  his 
wife  acted  as  their  principal  domestics,  he  could  not  resist 
pausing  at  their  cottage  to  learn,  if  possible,  the  real  progress 
which  Lord  Evandale  had  made  in  the  affections  of  Miss  Bel- 
lenden — alas !  no  louger  his  Edith.  This  rash  experiment 
ended  as  we  have  related,  and  he  parted  from  the  house  of 
Fairy  Knowe  conscious  that  he  was  still  beloved  by  Edith, 
yet  compelled  by  faith  and  honor  to  relinquish  her  forever. 
With  what  feelings  he  must  have  listened  to  the  dialogue  be- 
tween Lord  Evandale  and  Edith,  the  greater  part  of  which 
he  involuntarily  overheard,  the  reader  must  conceive,  for  we 
dare  not  attempt  to  describe  them.  An  hundred  times  he 
was  tempted  to  burst  upon  their  interview,  or  to  exclaim  aloud 
— *^^ Edith,  I  yet  live!''  and  as  often  the  recollection  of  her 
plighted  troth,  and  of  the  debt  of  gratitude  which  he  owed 
Lord  Evandale,  to  whose  influence  with  Claverhouse  he  justly 
ascribed  his  escape  from  torture  and  from  death,  withheld 
him  from  a  rashness  which  might  indeed  have  involved  all  in 
further  distress,  but  gave  little  prospect  of  forwarding  his 
own  happiness.  He  repressed  forcibly  these  selfish  emotions, 
though  with  an  agony  which  thrilled  his  every  nerve. 

"No,  Edith  !''  was  his  internal  oath,  "never  will  I  add  a 
thorn  to  thy  pillow.  That  which  Heaven  has  ordained,  let  it 
be;  and  let  me  not  add,  by  my  selfish  sorrows,  one  atom's 
weight  to  the  burden  thou  hast  to  bear.  I  was  dead  to  thee 
_when  thy  resolution  was  adopted  ;  and  never — never  shalt 
thou  know  that  Henry  Morton  still  lives  ! " 

As  he  formed  this  resolution,  diffident  of  his  own  power 
to  keep  it,  and  seeking  that  firmness  in  flight  which  was  every 
moment  shaken  by  his  continuing  within  hearing  of  Edith's 
voice,  he  hastily  rushed  from  his  apartment  by  the  little  closet 
and  the  sashed  door  which  led  to  the  garden. 

But  firmly  as  he  thought  his  resolution  was  fixed,  he 
could  not  leave  the  spot  where  the  last  tones  of  a  voice  so  be- 
loved still  vibrated  on  his  ear,  without  endeavoring  to  avail 
himself  of  the  opportunity  which  the  parlor  window  afforded, 
to  steal  one  last  glance  at  the  lovely  speaker.     It  was  in  this  at- 


OLD  MORTALITY  851 

tempt,  made  while  Edith  seemed  to  have  her  eyes  unalterably 
bent  upon  the  ground,  that  Morton's  presence  was  detected 
by  her  raising  them  suddenly.  So  soon  as  her  w^ild  scream 
made  this  known  to  the  unfortunate  object  of  a  passion  so 
constant,  and  which  seemed  so  ill-fated,  he  hurried  from  the 
place,  as  if  pursued  by  the  furies.  He  passed  Halliday  in  the 
garden  without  recognizing,  or  even  being  sensible  that  he 
had  seen  him,  threw  himself  on  his  horse,  and,  by  a  sort  of 
instinct  rather  than  recollection,  took  the  first  by-road  in 
preference  to  the  public  route  to  Hamilton. 

In  all  probability  this  prevented  Lord  Evandale  from 
learning  that  he  was  actually  in  existence  ;  for  the  news  that 
the  Highlanders  had  obtained  a  decisive  victory  at  Killie- 
crankie  had  occasioned  an  accurate  lookout  to  be  kept,  by 
order  of  the  government,  on  all  the  passes,  for  fear  of  some 
commotion  among  the  Lowland  Jacobites.  They  did  not 
omit  to  post  sentinels  on  Bothwell  Bridge,  and  as  these  men 
had  not  seen  any  traveller  pass  westward  in  that  direction, 
and  as,  besides,  their  comrades  stationed  in  the  village  of 
Bothwell  were  equally  positive  that  none  had  gone  eastward, 
the  apparition,  in  the  existence  of  which  Edith  and  Halliday 
were  equally  positive,  became  yet  more  mysterious  in  the 
judgment  of  Lord  Evandale,  who  was  finally  inclined  to  settle 
in  the  belief  that  the  heated  and  disturbed  imagination  of  Edith 
had  summoned  up  the  phantom  she  stated  herself  to  have 
seen,  and  that  Halliday  had  in  some  unaccountable  manner 
been  infected  by  the  same  superstition. 

Meanwhile,  the  by-path  which  Morton  pursued,  w^ith  all 
the  speed  which  his  vigorous  horse  could  exert,  brought  him 
in  a  very  few  seconds  to  the  brink  of  the  Clyde,  at  a  spot 
marked  with  tht  feet  of  horses,  who  were  conducted  to  it  as  a 
watering-place.  The  steed,  urged  as  he  was  to  the  gallop, 
did  not  pause  a  single  instant,  but,  throwing  himself  into  the 
river,  was  soon  beyond  his  depth.  The  plunge  which  the 
animal  made  as  his  feet  quitted  the  ground,  with  the  feeling 
that  the  cold  water  rose  above  his  sword-belt,  were  the  first 
incidents  which  recalled  Morton,  whose  movements  had  been 
hitherto  mechanical,  to  the  necessity  of  taking  measures  for 
preserving  himself  and  the  noble  animal  which  he  bestrode. 
A  perfect  master  of  all  manly  exercises,  the  management  of  a 
horse  in  water  was  as  familiar  to  him  as  when  upon  a  meadow. 
He  directed  the  animaFs  course  somewhat  down  the  stream 
towards  a  low  plain  or  holm,  which  seemed  to  promise  an  easy 
egress  from  the  river.  In  the  first  and  second  attempt  to  get 
on  shore,  the  horse  was  frustrated  by  the  nature  of  the  ground. 


35»  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  nearly  fell  backwards  on  his  rider.  The  instinct  of  self«= 
preservation  seldom  fails,  even  in  the  most  desperate  circum- 
stances, to  recall  the  human  mind  to  some  degree  of  equipoise, 
unless  when  altogether  distracted  by  terror,  and  Morton  was 
obliged  to  the  danger  in  which  he  was  placed  for  complete  re- 
covery of  his  self-possession.  A  third  attempt,  at  a  spot  more 
caref  n}ly  and  judiciously  selected,  succeeded  better  than  the 
former, "and  placed  the  horse  and  his  rider  in  safety  upon  the 
further  and  left-hand  bank  of  the  Clyde. 

"But  whither,"  said  Morton,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart, 
"  am  I  now  to  direct  my  course  ?  or  rather,  what  does  it  sig- 
nify to  which  point  of  the  compass  a  wretch  so  forlorn  betakes 
himself  ?  I  would  to  God,  could  the  wish  be  without  a  sin, 
that  these  dark  waters  had  flowed  over  me,  and  drowned  my 
recollection  of  that  which  was  and  that  which  is  ! " 

The  sense  of  impatience  which  the  disturbed  state  of  his 
feelings  had  occasioned  scarcely  had  vented  itself  in  these  vio- 
lent expressions  ere  he  was  struck  with  shame  at  having  given 
way  to  such  a  paroxysm.  He  remembered  how  signally  the 
life  which  he  now  held  so  lightly,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  dis- 
appointment, had  been  preserved  through  the  almost  incessant 
perils  which  had  beset  him  since  he  entered  upon  his  public 
career. 

"  I  am  a  fool ! "  he  said,  *'  and  worse  than  a  fool,  to  set  light 
by  that  existence  which  Heaven  has  so  often  preserved  in  the 
most  marvellous  manner.  Something  there  yet  remains  for  me 
in  this  world,  were  it  only  to  bear  my  sorrows  like  a  man,  and 
to  aid  those  who  need  my  assistance.  What  have  I  seen — 
what  have  I  heard,  but  the  very  conclusion  of  that  which  I 
knew  was  to  happen  ?  They  [he  durst  not  utter  their  names 
even  in  soliloquy] — they  are  embarrassed  and  in  difficulties. 
She  is  stripped  of  her  inheritance,  and  he  seems  rushing  on 
some  dangerous  career,  with  which,  but  for  the  low  voice  in 
which  he  spoke,  I  might  have  become  acquainted.  Are  there 
no  means  to  aid  or  to  warn  them  ?" 

As  he  pondered  upon  this  topic,  forcibly  withdrawing  his 
mind  from  his  own  disappointment  and  compellinghis  attention 
to  the  affairs  of  Edith  and  her  betrothed  husband,  the  letter  of 
Burley,  long  forgotten,  suddenly  rushed  on  his  memory  like  a 
ray  of  light  darting  through  a  mist. 

''  Their  ruin  must  have  been  his  work,*'  was  his  internal 
conclusion.  ''  If  it  can  be  repaired,  it  must  be  through  his 
means,  or  by  information  obtained  from  him.  I  will  search  him 
out.  Stern,  crafty,  and  enthusiastic  as  he  is,  my  plain  and 
downright  rectitude  of  purpose  has  more  than  once  prevailed 


OLD  MORTALITY  85$ 

with  him.  I  will  seek  him  out,  at  least ;  and  who  knows  what 
influence  the  information  I  may  acquire  from  him  may  have  on 
the  fortunes  of  those  whom  I  shall  never  see  more,  and  who 
will  probably  never  learn  that  I  am  now  suppressing  my  own 
grief  to  add,  if  possible,  to  their  happiness  \" 

Animated  by  these  hopes,  though  the  foundation  was  but 
slight,  he  sought  the  nearest  way  to  the  high-road  ;  and  as  all 
the  tracks  through  the  valley  were  known  to  him  since  he 
hunted  through  them  in  youth,  he  had  no  other  difficulty  than 
that  of  surmounting  one  or  two  enclosures  ere  he  found  him- 
self on  the  road  to  the  small  burgh  where  the  feast  of  the  pop- 
injay had  been  celebrated.  He  journeyed  in  a  state  of  mind 
sad  indeed  and  dejected,  yet  relieved  from  its  earlier  and  more 
intolerable  state  of  anguish  ;  for  virtuous  resolution  and  manly 
disinterestedness  seldom  fail  to  restore  tranquillity  even  where 
they  cannot  create  happiness.  He  turned  his  thoughts  with 
strong  effort  upon  the  means  of  discovering  Burley,  and  the 
chance  there  was  of  extracting  from  him  any  knowledge  which 
he  might  possess  favorable  to  her  in  whose  cause  he  interested 
himself,  and  at  length  formed  the  resolution  of  guiding  him- 
self by  the  circumstances  in  which  he  might  discover  the  object 
of  his  quest,  trusting  that,  from  Cuddie's  account  of  a  schism 
betwixt  Burley  and  his  brethren  of  the  Presbyterian  persua- 
sion, he  might  find  him  less  rancorously  disposed  against  Miss 
Bellenden,  and  inclined  to  exert  the  power  which  he  asserted 
himself  to  possess  over  her  fortunes  more  favorably  than  here- 
tofore. 

Noontide  had  passed  away  when  our  traveller  found  him- 
self in  the  neighborhood  of  his  deceased  nucleus  habitation 
of  Milnwood.  It  rose  among  glades  and  groves  that  were 
checkered  with  a  thousand  early  recollections  of  joy  and  sor- 
row, and  made  upon  Morton  that  mournful  impression,  soft 
and  affecting,  yet  withal  soothing,  which  the  sensitive  mind 
usually  receives  from  a  return  to  the  haunts  of  childhood  and 
early  youth,  after  having  experienced  the  vicissitudes  and  tem- 
pests of  public  life.  A  strong  desire  came  upon  him  to  visit 
the  house  itself. 

"  Old  Alison,'^  he  thought,  *'  will  not  know  me,  more  than 
the  honest  couple  whom  I  saw  yesterday.  I  may  indulge  my 
curiosity  and  proceed  on  my  journey,  without  her  having  any 
knowledge  of  my  existence.  I  think  they  said  my  uncle  had 
bequeathed  to  her  my  family  mansion  ;  well,  be  it  so.  I  have 
enough  to  sorrow  for,  to  enable  me  to  dispense  with  lamenting 
such  a  disappointment  as  that ;  and  yet  methinks  he  has  chosen 
an  odd  successor  in  my  grumbling  old  dame  to  a  line  of  re- 


354  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

spectable,  if  not  distinguished,  ancestry.  Let  it  be  as  it  majj 
I  will  visit  the  old  mansion  at  least  once  more." 

The  house  of  Milnwood,  even  in  its  best  days,  had  nothing 
cheerful  about  it,  but  its  gloom  appeared  to  be  double  under 
the  auspices  of  the  old  housekeeper.  Everything,  indeed,  was 
in  repair  ;  there  were  no  slates  deficient  upon  the  steep  gray 
roof,  and  no  panes  broken  in  the  narrow  windows.  But  the 
grass  in  the  courtyard  looked  as  if  the  foot  of  man  had  not 
been  there  for  years  ;  the  doors  were  carefully  locked,  and 
that  which  admitted  to  the  hall  seemed  to  have  been  shut  for 
a  length  of  time,  since  the  spiders  had  fairly  drawn  their  webs 
over  the  doorway  and  the  staples.  Living  sight  or  sound  there 
was  none,  until,  after  much  knocking,  Morton  heard  the  little 
window,  through  which  it  was  usual  to  reconnoitre  visitors, 
open  with  much  caution.  The  face  of  Alison,  puckered  with 
some  score  of  wrinkles,  in  addition  to  those  with  which  it  was 
furrowed  wheuMorton  left  Scotland,  now  presented  itself,  en- 
veloped in  a  '' toy,  ^' from  under  the  protection  of  which  some 
of  her  gray  tresses  had  escaped  in  a  manner  more  picturesque 
than  beautiful,  while  her  shrill  tremulous  voice  demanded  the 
cause  of  the  knocking. 

"I  wish  to  speak  an  instant  with  one  Alison  Wilson  who 
resides  here,"  said  Henry. 

*'  She's  no  at  hame  the  day,'*  answered  Mrs.  Wilson  in  pro- 
pria persona,  the  state  of  whose  head-dress,  perhaps,  inspired 
her  with  this  direct  mode  of  denying  herself;  "and  ye  are 
but  a  mislear'd  person  to  speer  for  her  in  sic  a  manner.  Ye 
might  hae  had  an  M  under  your  belt  for  Mistress  Wilson  of 
Milnwood." 

"I  beg  pardon,"  said  Morton,  internally  smiling  at  find- 
ing in  old  Ailie  the  same  jealousy  of  disrespect  which  she  used 
to  exhibit  upon  former  occasions — "  I  beg  pardon  ;  I  am  but 
a  stranger  in  this  country,  and  have  been  so  long  abroad  that 
I  have  almost  forgotten  my  own  language." 

*'Didye  come  frae  foreign  parts?"  said  Ailie;  "then 
maybe  ye  may  hae  heard  of  a  young  gentleman  of  this  country 
that  they  ca'  Henry  Morton  ?  " 

"I  have  heard,"  said  Morton,  "of  such  a  name  in  Ger- 
many." 

"Then  bide  a  wee  bit  where  ye  are,  friend — or  stay,  gang 
round  by  the  back  o'  the  house,  and  ye'll  find  a  laigh  door  ; 
it's  on  the  latch ;  for  it's  never  barred  till  sunset.  Ye'll 
open't — and  tak  care  ye  dinna  fa'  ower  the  tub,  for  the  entry's 
dark — and  then  ye'll  turn  to  the  right,  and  then  ye'll  hand 
straught  forward,  and  then  ye'll  turn  to  the  right  again,  and 


OLD  MORTALITY  8Sb 

ye^l  tak  heed  o'  the  cellar  stairs,  and  then  yell  be  at  the 
door  o'  the  little  kitchen — it^s  a'  the  kitchen  that's  at  Miln- 
wood  now — and  I'll  come  down  t'ye,  and  whatever  ye  wad  say 
to  Mistress  Wilson  ye  may  very  safely  tell  it  to  me/' 

A  stranger  might  have  had  some  difficulty,  notwithstand- 
ing the  minuteness  of  the  directions  supplied  by  Ailie,  to  pilot 
himself  in  safety  through  the  dark  labyrinth  of  passages  that 
led  from  the  back  door  to  the  little  kitchen,  but  Henry  was 
too  well  acquainted  with  the  navigation  of  these  straits  to 
experience  danger,  either  from  the  Scylla  which  lurked  on 
one  side  in  shape  of  a  bucking-tub,  or  the  Charybdis  which 
yawned  on  the  other  in  the  profundity  of  a  winding  cellar 
stair.  His  only  impediment  arose  from  the  snarling  and  ve- 
hement barking  of  a  small  cocking  spaniel,  once  his  own 
property,  but  which,  unlike  to  the  faithful  Argus,  saw  his 
master  return  from  his  wanderings  without  any  symptom  of 
recognition. 

"  The  little  dogs  and  all ! "  said  Morton  to  himself,  on 
being  disowned  by  his  former  favorite.  "I  am  so  changed 
that  no  breathing  creature  that  I  have  known  and  loved  will 
now  acknowledge  me  \" 

At  this  moment  he  had  reached  the  kitchen,  and  soon 
after  the  tread  of  Alison's  high  heels,  and  the  pat  of  the 
crutch-handled  cane,  which  served  at  once  to  prop  and  to 
guide  hejr  footsteps,  were  heard  upon  the  stairs,  an  annuncia- 
tion which  continued  for  some  time  ere  she  fairly  reached  the 
kitchen. 

Morton  had,  therefore,  time  to  survey  the  slender  prep- 
arations for  housekeeping  which  were  now  sufficient  in  the 
house  of  his  ancestors.  The  fire,  though  coals  are  plenty  in 
that  neighborhood,  was  husbanded  with  the  closest  attention 
to  economy  of  fuel,  and  the  small  pipkin,  in  which  was  pre- 
paring the  dinner  of  the  old  woman  and  her  maid -of -all- work, 
a  girl  of  twelve  years  old,  intimated,  by  its  thin  and  watery 
vapor,  that  Ailie  had  not  mended  her  cheer  with  her  improved 
fortune. 

When  she  entered,  the  head  which  nodded  with  self-impor- 
tance, the  features  in  which  an  irritable  peevishness,  acquired 
by  habit  and  indulgence,  strove  with  a  temper  naturally  affec- 
tionate and  good-natured,  the  coif,  the  apron,  the  blue  checked 
gown,  were  all  those  of  old  Ailie  ;  but  laced  pinners,  hastily 
put  on  to  meet  the  stranger,  with  some  other  trifling  articles 
of  decoration,  marked  the  difference  between  Mrs.  Wilson, 
life-rentrix  of  Milnwoodf,  and  the  housekeeper  of  the  late  pro- 
prietor. 


853  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  What  were  ye  pleased  to  want  wi'  Mrs.  Wilson,  sir  ?  I 
am  Mrs.  Wilson,"  was  her  first  address  ;  for  the  five  minutes^ 
time  which  she  had  gained  for  the  business  of  the  toilet  en- 
titled her,  she  conceived,  to  assume  the  full  merit  of  her  illus- 
trious name,  and  shine  forth  on  her  guest  in  unchastened 
splendor. 

Morton's  sensations,  confounded  between  the  past  and  pres- 
ent, fairly  confused  him  so  much  that  he  would  have  had 
difficulty  in  answering  her,  even  if  he  had  known  well  what 
to  say.  But  as  he  had  not  determined  what  character  he  was 
to  adopt  while  concealing  that  which  was  properly  his  own, 
he  had  an  additional  reason  for  remaining  silent. 

Mrs.  Wilson,  in  perplexity,  and  with  some  apprehension, 
repeated  her  question.  "  What  were  ye  pleased  to  want  wi' 
me,  sir  ?     Ye  said  ye  kenn'd  Mr.  Harry  Morton  ?'' 

^'  Pardon  me,  madam,"  answered  Henry  ;  "it  was  of  one 
Silas  Morton  I  spoke." 

The  old  woman's  countenance  fell. 

"  It  was  his  father,  then,  ye  kent  o',  the  brother  o'the  late 
Milnwood  ?  Ye  canna  mind  him  abroad,  I  wad  think  ;  he 
was  come  hame  afore  ye  were  born.  I  thought  ye  had  brought 
me  news  of  poor  Maister  Harry." 

"  It  was  from  my  father  I  learned  to  know  Colonel  Mor- 
ton," said  Henry.  "  Of  the  son  I  know  little  or  nothing ; 
rumor  says  he  died  abroad  on  his  passage  to  Holland." 

"  That's  ower  like  to  be  true,"  said  the  old  woman,  with  a 
sigh,  "  and  mony  a  tear  it's  cost  my  auld  een.  His  uncle,  poor 
gentleman,  just  sough 'd  awa'  wi'  it  in  his  mouth.  He  had  been 
gieing  me  preceeze  directions  anent  the  bread,  and  the  wine, 
and  the  brandy,  at  his  burial,  and  how  often  it  was  to  be 
handed  round  the  company — for,  dead  or  alive,  he  was  a  pru- 
dent, frugal,  painstaking  man — and  then  he  said,  said  he, 
'  Ailie  ' — ^he  aye  ca'd  me  Ailie,  we  were  auld  acquaintance — 
'  Ailie,  take  ye  care  and  baud  the  gear  weel  thegither ;  for 
the  name  of  Morton  of  Milnwood's  gane  out  like  the  last 
sough  of  an  auld  sang.'  And  sae  he  fell  out  o'  ae  dwam  into 
another,  and  ne'er  spak  a  word  mair  unless  it  were  something 
we  cou'dna  mak  out,  about  a  dipped  candle  being  gude 
eneugh  to  see  to  dee  wi'.  He  cou'd  ne'er  bide  to  see  a  moulded 
ane,  and  there  was  ane,  by  ill  luck,  on  the  table." 

While  Mrs.  Wilson  was  thus  detailing  the  last  moments  of 
the  old  miser,  Morton  was  pressingly  engaged  in  diverting  the 
assiduous  curiosity  of  the  dog,  which,  recovered  from  his  first 
surprise,  and  combining  former  recollections,  had,  after  much 
snuffing  and  examination,  begun  a  course  of  capering  and 


OLD  MORTALITY  867 

jumping  upon  the  stranger  which  threatened  every  instant  to 
betray  him.  At  length,  in  the  urgency  of  his  impatience, 
Morton  could  not  forbear  exclaiming,  in  a  tone  of  hasty  im- 
patience, ^*Down,  Elphin  !     Down,  sir  V 

"  Ye  ken  our  dog^s  name,"  said  the  old  lady,  struck  with 
great  and  sudden  surprise — '^  ye  ken  our  dog's  name,  and  it's 
no  a  common  ane.  And  the  creature  kens  you  too,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  a  more  agitated  and  shriller  tone.  ^'  God  guide  us  ! 
it's  my  ain  bairn  ! "  So  saying,  the  poor  old  woman  threw  her- 
self around  Morton's  neck,  clung  to  him,  kissed  him  as  if  he 
had  been  actually  her  child,  and  wept  for  Joy. 

There  was  no  parrying  the  discovery,  if  he  could  have  had 
the  heart  to  attempt  any  further  disguise.  He  returned  the 
embrace  with  the  most  grateful  warmth,  and  answered — ''  I 
do  indeed  live,  dear  Ailie,  to  thank  you  for  all  your  kindness, 
past  and  present,  and  to  rejoice  that  there  is  at  least  one  friend 
to  welcome  me  to  my  native  country." 

*^  Friends!"  exclaimed  Ailie,  ''ye'll  hae  mony  friends — 
ye'U  hae  mony  friends  ;  for  ye  will  hae  gear,  hinny — ye  will 
hae  gear.  Heaven  mak  ye  a  gude  guide  o't  !  But,  eh,  sirs  ! " 
she  continued,  pushing  him  back  from  her  with  her  trembling 
hand  and  shrivelled  arm,  and  gazing  in  his  face  as  if  to  read, 
at  more  convenient  distance,  the  ravages  which  sorrow  rather 
than  time  had  made  on  his  face — "eh,  sirs  !  ye're  sair  altered, 
hinny  :  your  face  is  turned  pale,  and  your  een  are  sunken, 
and  your  bonny  red-and-white  cheeks  are  turned  a'  dark  and 
sunburnt.  0,  weary  on  the  wars  !  mony's  the  comely  face 
they  destroy.  And  when  cam  ye  here,  hinny  ?  And  where 
hae  ye  been  ?  And  what  hae  ye  been  doing  ?  And  what  for 
did  ye  na  write  to  us  ?  And  how  cam  ye  to  pass  yoursell  for 
dead  ?  And  what  for  did  ye  come  creepin'  to  your  ain  house 
as  if  ye  had  been  an  unco  body,  to  gie  poor  auld  Ailie  sic  a 
start  ?"  she  concluded,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

It  was  some  time  ere  Morton  could  overcome  his  own  emo- 
tion so  as  to  give  the  kind  old  woman  the  information  which 
we  shall  communicate  to  our  readers  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Aumerle  that  was, 
But  that  is  gone  for  being  Richard's  friend ; 
And,  madam,  y.ou  must  call  him  Rutland  now. 

Richard  II, 

The  scene  of  explanation  was  hastily  removed  from  the  little 
kitchen  to  Mrs.  Wilson's  own  matted  room,  the  very  same 
which  she  had  occupied  as  housekeeper,  and  which  she  con- 
tinued to  retain.  "  It  was,"  she  said,  '^  better  secured  against 
sifting  winds  than  the  hall,  which  she  had  found  dangerous 
to  her  rheumatisms,  and  it  was  more  fitting  for  her  use  than 
the  late  Milnwood^s  apartment,  honest  man,  which  gave  her 
sad  thoughts ; "  and  as  for  the  great  oak  parlor,  it  was  never 
opened  but  to  be  aired,  washed,  and  dusted,  according  to  the 
invariable  practice  of  the  family,  unless  upon  their  most  sol- 
emn festivals.  In  the  matted  room,  therefore,  they  were  set- 
tled, surrounded  by  pickle-pots  and  conserves  of  all  kinds, 
which  the  ci-devant  housekeeper  continued  to  compound  out 
of  mere  habit,  although  neither  she  herself  nor  any  one  else 
ever  partook  of  the  comfits  which  she  so  regularly  prepared. 

Morton,  adapting  his  narrative  to  the  comprehension  of 
his  auditor,  informed  her  briefly  of  the  wreck  of  the  vessel 
and  the  loss  of  all  hands,  excepting  two  or  three  common  sea- 
men, who  had  early  secured  the  skiff,  and  were  just  putting 
off  from  the  vessel  when  he  leaped  from  the  deck  into  their 
boat,  and  unexpectedly,  as  well  as  contrary  to  their  inclina- 
tion, made  himself  partner  of  their  voyage  and  of  their  safety. 
Landed  at  Flushing,  he  was  fortunate  ei^ough  to  meet  with 
an  old  officer  who  had  been  in  service  with  his  father.  By  his 
advice,  he  shunned  going  immediately  to  The  Hague,  but  for- 
warded his  letters  to  the  court  of  the  Stadtholder. 

'^  Our  Prince,"  said  the  veteran,  "must  as  yet  keep  terms 
with  his  father-in-law  and  with  your  King  Charles ;  and  to 
approach  him  in  the  character  of  a  Scottish  malcontent  would 
render  it  imprudent  for  him  to  distinguish  you  by  his  favor. 
Wait,  therefore,  his  orders,  without  forcing  yourself  on  his 
notice ;  observe  the  strictest  prudence  and  retirement ;  assume 
for  the  present  a  different  name ;  shun  the  company  of  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  tS^ 

British  exiles ;  and,  depend  upon  it,  you  will  not  repent  your 
prudence.*' 

The  old  friend  of  Silas  Morton  argued  justly.  After  a 
considerable  time  had  elapsed,  the  Prince  of  Orange,  in  a 
progress  through  the  United  States,  came  to  the  town  where 
Morton,  impatient  at  his  situation  and  the  incognito  which 
he  was  obliged  to  observe,  still  continued,  nevertheless,  to  be 
a  resident.  He  had  an  hour  of  private  interview  assigned, 
in  which  the  Prince  expressed  himself  highly  pleased  with 
his  intelligence,  his  prudence,  and  the  liberal  view  which  he 
seemed  to  take  of  the  factions  of  his  native  country,  their 
motives  and  their  purposes. 

*^I  would  gladly,*'  said  William,  ''attach  you  to  my  own 
person,  but  that  cannot  be  without  giving  offence  in  England. 
But  I  will  do  as  much  for  you,  as  well  out  of  respect  for  the 
sentiments  you  have  expressed  as  for  the  recommendations 
you  have  brought  me.  Here  is  a  commission  in  a  Swiss  regi- 
ment at  present  in  garrison  in  a  distant  province,  where  you 
will  meet  few  or  none  of  your  countrymen.  Continue  to  be 
Captain  Melville,  and  let  the  name  of  Morton  sleep  till  better 
days.*' 

*'  Thus  began  my  fortune,"  continued  Morton  ;  ^'  and  my 
services  have,  on  various  occasions,  been  distinguished  by 
his  Royal  Highness,  until  the  moment  that  brought  him  to 
Britain  as  our  political  deliverer.  His  commands  must  ex- 
cuse my  silence  to  my  few  friends  in  Scotland  ;  and  I  wonder 
not  at  the  report  of  my  death,  considering  the  wreck  of  the 
vessel,  and  that  I  found  no  occasion  to  use  the  letters  of  ex- 
change with  which  I  was  furnished  by  the  liberality  of  some 
of  them,  a  circumstance  which  must  have  confirmed  the  be- 
lief that  I  had  perished." 

"But,  dear  hinny,"  asked  Mrs.  "Wilson,  "did  ye  find  nae 
Scotch  body  at  the  Prince  of  Granger's  court  that  kenn'd  ye? 
I  wad  hae  thought  Morton  o'  Milnwood  was  kenn'd  a'  through 
the  country." 

"  I  was  purposely  engaged  in  distant  service,"  said  Morton, 
"  until  a  period  when  few,  without  as  deep  and  kind  a  motive 
of  interest  as  yours,  Ailie,  would  have  known  the  stripling 
Morton  in  Major-General  Melville." 

"  Malville  was  your  mother's  name,"  said  Mrs.  Wilson  ; 
"but  Morton  sounds  far  bonnier  in  my  auld  lugs.  And  when 
ye  tak  up  the  lairdship  ye  maun  tak  the  auld  name  and  desig- 
nation again." 

"  I  am  like  to  be  in  no  haste  to  do  either  the  one  or  the 
other,  Ailie,  for  I  have  some  reasons  for  the  present  to  con- 


SeO  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ceal  my  being  alive  from  every  one  but  you  ;  and  as  for  the 
lairdship  of  Milnwood,  it  is  in  as  good  hands/' 

"  As  gude  hands,  hinny !  "  re-echoed  Ailie  ;  ''  I'm  hopefu' 
ye  are  no  meaning  mine  ?  The  rents  and  the  lands  are  but  a 
sair  fash  to  me.  And  I'm  ower  failed  to  tak  a  helpmate, 
though  Wylie  Mactrickit,  the  writer,  was  very  pressing,  and 
spak  very  civilly  ;  but  I'm  ower  auld  a  cat  to  draw  that  strae 
before  me.  He  canna  whilly-wha  me  as  he's  dune  mony  a  ane. 
And  then  I  thought  aye  ye  wad  come  back,  and  I  wad  get  my 
pickle  meal  and  my  soup  milk,  and  keep  a'  things  right  about 
ye  as  I  used  to  do  in  your  puir  uncle's  time,  and  it  wad  be  just 
pleasure  eneugh  for  me  to  see  ye  thrive  and  guide  the  gear 
canny.  Ye'll  liae  learned  that  in  Holland,  I'se  warrant,  for 
they're  thrifty  folk  there,  as  I  hear  tell.  But  ye'll  be  for 
keeping  rather  a  mair  house  than  puir  auld  Milnwood  that's 
gane  ;  and,  indeed,  I  would  approve  o'  your  eating  butcher- 
meat  maybe  as  aften  as  three  times  a  week,  it  keeps  the  wind 
out  o'  the  stamack." 

"  We  will  talk  of  all  this  another  time,"  said  Morton,  sur- 
prised at  the  generosity  upon  a  large  scale  which  mingled  in 
Ailie's  thoughts  and  actions  with  habitual  and  sordid  parsi- 
mony, and  at  the  odd  contrast  between  her  love  of  saving  and 
indifference  to  self -acquisition.  '^  You  must  know,"  he  con- 
tinued, **  that  I  am  in  this  country  only  for  a  few  days  on 
some  special  business  of  importance  to  the  government,  and 
therefore,  Ailie,  not  a  word  of  having  seen  me.  At  some  other 
time  I  will  acquaint  you  fully  with  my  motives  and  inten- 
tions." 

"E'en  be  it  sae,  my  jo,"  replied  Ailie,  "I  can  keep  a 
secret  like  my  neighbors  ;  and  weel  auld  Milnwood  kenn'd  it, 
honest  man,  for  he  tauld  me  where  he  keepit  his  gear,  and 
that's  what  maist  folk  like  to  hae  as  private  as  possibly  may 
be.  But  come  awa'  wi'  me,  hinny,  till  I  show  ye  the  oak 
parlor  how  grandly  it's  keepit,  just  as  if  ye  had  been  expected 
name  every  day  ;  I  loot  naebody  sort  it  but  my  ain  hands. 
It  was  a  kind  o'  divertisement  to  me,  though  whiles  the  tear 
wan  into  my  ee,  and  I  said  to  mysell,  what  needs  I  fash  wi' 
grates,  and  carpets,  and  cushions,  and  themuckle  brass  candle- 
sticks, ony  mair  ?  for  they'll  ne'er  come  hame  that  aught  it 
rightfully." 

With  these  words  she  hauled  him  away  to  this  sanctum 
sanctorum,  the  scrubbing  and  cleaning  whereof  was  her  daily 
employment,  as  its  high  state  of  good  order  constituted  the 
very  pride  of  her  heart.  Morton,  as  he  followed  her  into  the 
room,  underwent  a  rebuke  for  not  ''dighting  his  shune/' 


OLD  MORTALITY  361 

which  showed  that  Ailie  had  not  relinquished  her  habits  of 
authority.  On  entering  the  oak  parlor,  he  could  not  but  rec- 
ollect the  feelings  of  solemn  awe  with  which,  when  a  boy, 
he  had  be«n  affected  at  his  occasional  and  rare  admission  to 
an  apartment  which  he  then  supposed  had  not  its  equal  save 
in  the  halls  of  princes.  It  may  be  readily  supposed  that  the 
worked-worsted  chairs,  with  their  short  ebony  legs  and  long 
upright  backs,  had  lost  much  of  their  influence  over  his  mind  ; 
that  the  large  brass  andirons  seemed  diminished  in  splendor  ; 
that  the  green  worsted  tapestry  appeared  no  masterpiece  of 
the  Arras  loom  ;  and  that  the  room  looked,  on  the  whole, 
dark,  gloomy,  and  disconsolate.  Yet  there  were  two  objects, 
*'  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  two  brothers,^'  which,  dis- 
similar as  those  described  by  Hamlet,  affected  his  mind  with 
a  variety  of  sensations.  One  full-length  portrait  represented 
his  father,  in  complete  armor,  with  a  countenance  indicating 
his  masculine  and  determined  character ;  and  the  other  set 
forth  his  uncle,  in  velvet  and  brocade,  looking  as  if  he  were 
ashamed  of  his  own  finery,  though  entirely  indebted  for  it  to 
the  liberality  of  the  painter. 

''  It  Tvas  an  idle  fancy,''  Ailie  said, ''  to  dress  the  honest  auld 
man  in  thae  expensive  fal-lalls  that  he  ne'er  wore  in  his  life, 
instead  o'  his  douce  raploch  gray,  and  his  band  wi'  the  nar- 
row edging." 

In  private  Morton  could  not  help  being  much  of  her  opin- 
ion ;  for  anything  approaching  to  the  dress  of  a  gentleman 
sat  as  ill  on  the  ungainly  person  of  his  relative  as  an  open  or 
generous  expression  would  have  done  on  his  mean  and  money- 
making  features.  He  now  extricated  himself  from  Ailie  to 
visit  some  of  his  haunts  in  the  neighboring  wood,  while  her 
own  hands  made  an  addition  to  the  dinner  she  was  preparing  ; 
an  incident  no  otherwise  remarkable  than  as  it  cost  the  life  of 
a  fowl,  which  for  any  event  of  less  importance  than  the  arrival 
of  Henry  Morton  might  have  cackled  on  to  a  good  old  age  ere 
Ailie  could  have  been  guilty  of  the  extravagance  of  killing 
and  dressing  it.  The  meal  was  seasoned  by  talk  of  old  times, 
and  by  the  plans  which  Ailie  laid  out  for  futurity,  in  which 
she  assigned  her  young  master  all  the  prudential  hal3its  of  her 
old  one,  and  planned  out  the  dexterity  with  which  she  was  to 
exercise  her  duty  as  governante.  Morton  let  the  old  woman 
enjoy  her  day-dreams  and  castle-building  during  moments  of 
such  pleasure,  and  deferred  till  some  fitter  occasion  the  com- 
munication of  his  purpose  again  to  return  and  spend  his  life 
upon  the  Continent. 

His  next  care  was  to  lay  aside  his  military  dress,  which  he 


862  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

considered  likely  to  render  more  difficult  his  researches  after 
Barley.  He  exchanged  it  for  a  gray  doublet  and  cloak,  for- 
merly his  usual  attire  at  Milnwood,  and  which  Mrs.  Wilson 
produced  from  a  chest  of  walnut-tree,  wherein  she  had  laid 
them  aside,  without  forgetting  carefully  to  brush  and  air  them 
from  time  to  time.  Morton  retained  his  sword  and  jBirearms, 
without  which  few  persons  travelled  in  those  unsettled  times. 

When  he  appeared  in  his  new  attire,  Mrs.  Wilson  was  first 
thankful  *^*^that  they  fitted  him  sae  decently,  since,  though 
he  was  nae  fatter,  yet  he  looked  mair  manly  than  when  he  was 
taen  frae  Milnwood.'^  Next  she  enlarged  on  the  advantage  of 
saving  old  clothes  to  be  what  she  called  ^'  beet-masters  to  the 
new,"  and  was  far  advanced  in  the  history  of  a  velvet  cloak 
belonging  to  the  late  Milnwood,  which  had  first  been  converted 
to  -a  velvet  doublet,  and  then  into  a  pair  of  breeches,  and  ap- 
peared each  time  as  good  as  new,  when  Morton  interrupted  her 
account  of  its  transmigration  to  bid  her  good-bye. 

He  gave,  indeed,  a  sufficient  shock  to  her  feelings  by  ex- 
pressing the  necessity  he  was  under  of  proceeding  on  his  jour- 
ney that  evening. 

* '  And  where  are  ye  gaun  ?  And  what  wad  ye  do  that  for  ? 
And  whar  wad  ye  sleep  but  in  your  ain  house,  after  ye  hae  been 
sae  mony  years  frae  hame  ?  " 

"  I  feel  all  the  unkindness  of  it,  Ailie,  but  it  must  be  so  ; 
and  that  was  the  reason  that  I  attempted  to  conceal  myself 
from  you,  as  I  suspected  you  would  not  let  me  part  from  you 
so  easily.'^ 

**^But  whar  are  ye  gaun,  then  ^"  said  Ailie,  once  more. 
*^  Saw  e'er  mortal  een  the  like  o'  you,  just  to  come  ae  moment 
and  flee  awa'  like  an  arrow  out  of  a  bow  the  neist  ?  " 

^'  I  must  go  down,"  replied  Morton,  "  to  Niel  Blane,  the 
Piper's  Howff.     He  can  give  me  a  bed,  I  suppose  ? '' 

*^  A  bed  !  Fse  warrant  can  he,"  replied  Ailie,  "and  gar 
ye  pay  weel  for't  into  the  bargain.  Laddie,  I  dare  say  ye  hae 
lost  your  wits  in  thae  foreign  parts,  to  gang  and  gie  siller  for 
a  supper  and  a  bed,  and  might  hae  baith  for  naething,  and 
thanks  t'ye  for  accepting  them." 

"  I  assure  you,  Ailie,"  said  Morton,  desirous  to  silence  her 
remonstrances,  ''  that  this  is  a  business  of  great  importance, 
in  which  I  may  be  a  great  gainer,  and  cannot  possibly  be  a 
loser." 

"  I  dinna  see  how  that  can  be,  if  ye  begin  by  gieing  maybe 
the  feck  o'  twal  shillings  Scots  for  your  supper  ;  but  young 
folks  are  aye  venturesome,  and  think  to  get  siller  that  way. 


OLD  MORTALITY  86^ 

My  puir  anld  master  took  a  surer  gate,  and  never  parted  wi' 

it  when  he  had  anes  gotten^t." 

Persevering  in  his  desperate  resolution,  Morton  took  leave 
of  Ailie  and  mounted  his  horse  to  proceed  to  the  little  town, 
after  exacting  a  solemn  promise  that  she  would  conceal  his  re- 
turn until  she  again  saw  or  heard  from  him. 

^^  I  am  not  very  extravagant,"  was  his  natural  reflection, 
as  he  trotted  slowly  towards  the  town  ;  '^but  were  Ailie  and 
I  to  set  up  house  together,  as  she  proposes,  I  think  my  pro- 
fusion would  break  the  good  old  creature's  heart  before  a  week 
were  out/' 


CHAPTER  XLI 

Where's  the  jolly  host 
You  told  me  of  ?    'T  has  been  my  custom  eve 
To  parley  with  mine  host. 

Lover's  Progress. 

Morton"  reached  the  borough-town  without  meeting  with  any 
remarkable  adventure,  and  alighted  at  the  little  inn.  It  had 
occurred  to  him  more  than  once,  while  upon  his  journey, 
that  his  resumption  of  the  dress  which  he  had  worn  while  a 
youth,  although  favorable  to  his  views  in  other  respects, 
might  render  it  more  difficult  for  him  to  remain  incognito. 
But  a  few  years  of  campaigns  and  wandering  had  so  changed 
his  appearance  that  he  had  great  confidence  that  in  the  grown 
man,  whose  brows  exhibited  the  traces  of  resolution  and  con- 
siderate thought,  none  would  recognize  the  raw  and  bashful 
stripling  who  won  the  game  of  the  popinjay.  The  only 
chance  was,  that  here  and  there  some  Whig  whom  he  had  led 
to  battle  might  remember  the  Captain  of  the  Milnwood 
Marksmen  ;  but  the  risk,  if  there  was  any,  could  not  be 
guarded  against. 

The  Howff  seemed  full  and  frequented  as  if  possessed  of 
all  its  old  celebrity.  The  person  and  demeanor  of  Niel 
Blane,  more  fat  and  less  civil  than  of  yore,  intimated  that  he 
had  increased  as  well  in  purse  as  in  corpulence ;  for  in  Scot- 
land a  landlord's  complaisance  for  his  guests  decreases  in 
exact  proportion  to  his  rise  in  the  world  His  daughter  had 
acquired  the  air  of  a  dexterous  barmaid,  undisturbed  by  the 
circumstances  of  love  and  war,  so  apt  to  perplex  her  in  the 
exercise  of  her  vocation.  Both  showed  Morton  the  degree  of 
attention  which  could  have  been  expected  by  a  stranger 
travelling  without  attendants,  at  a  time  when  they  were  par- 
ticularly the  badges  of  distinction.  He  took  upon  himself 
exactly  the  character  his  appearance  presented — went  to  the 
stable  and  saw  his  horse  accommodated,  then  returned  to  the 
house,  and,  seating  himself  in  the  public  room  (for  to  request 
one  to  himself  would,  in  those  days,  have  been  thought  an 
overweening  degree  of  conceit),  he  found  himself  in  the  very 
apartment  in  v/hich  he  had  some  years  before  celebrated  his 

8M 


OLD  MORTALITY  8M 

rictory  at  the  game  of  the  popinjay,  a  jocular  preferment 
which  led  to  so  many  serious  consequences. 

He  felt  himself,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  a  much  changed 
man  since  that  festivity  ;  and  yet,  to  look  around  him,  the 
groups  assembled  in  the  Howff  seemed  not  dissimilar  to  those 
which  the  same  scene  had  formerly  presented.  Two  or  three 
burghers  husbanded  their  "  dribbles  o'  brandy  ;  "  two  or  three 
dragoons  lounged  over  their  muddy  ale,  and  cursed  the  in- 
active times  that  allowed  them  no  better  cheer.  Their  cornet 
did  not,  indeed,  play  at  backgammon  with  the  curate  in  his 
cassock,  but  he  drank  a  little  modicum  of  aqua  mirahilis  with 
the  gray-cloaked  Presbyterian  minister.  The  scene  was  an- 
other, and  yet  the  same,  differing  only  in  persons,  but  corre- 
sponding in  general  character. 

*^  Let  the  tide  of  the  world  wax  or  wane  as  it  will,''  Morton 
thought,  as  he  looked  around  him,  **  enough  will  be  found  to 
fill  the  places  which  chance  renders  vacant ;  and,  in  the  usual 
occupations  and  amusements  of  life,  human  beings  will  suc- 
ceed each  other,  as  leaves  upon  the  same  tree,  with  the  same 
individual  difference  and  the  same  general  resemblance.'' 

After  pausing  a  few  minutes,  Morton,  whose  experience 
had  taught  him  the  readiest  mode  of  securing  attention, 
ordered  a  pint  of  claret,  and,  as  the  smiling  landlord  appeared 
with  the  pewter  measure  foaming  fresh  from  the  tap  (for 
bottling  wine  was  not  then  in  fashion),  he  asked  him  to  sit 
down  and  take  a  share  of  the  good  cheer.  This  invitation 
was  peculiarly  acceptable  to  Niel  Blane,  who,  if  he  did  not 
positively  expect  it  from  every  guest  not  provided  with  better 
company,  yet  received  it  from  many,  and  was  not  a  whit 
abashed  or  surprised  at  the  summons.  He  sat  down  along  with 
his  guest,  in  a  secluded  nook  near  the  chimney  ;  and  while  he 
received  encouragement  to  drink  by  far  the  greater  share  of 
the  liquor  before  them,  he  entered  at  length,  as  a  part  of  his 
expected  functions,  upon  the  news  of  the  country — the  births, 
deaths,  and  marriages,  the  change  of  property,  the  downfall 
of  old  families,  and  the  rise  of  new.  But  politics,  now  the 
fertile  source  of  eloquence,  mine  host  did  not  care  to  mingle 
in  his  theme  ;  and  it  was  only  in  answer  to  a  question  of 
Morton  that  he  replied  with  an  air  of  indifference,  '^  Um  !  ay 
«^e  aye  hae  sodgers  amang  us,  mair  or  less.  There's  a  wheen 
German  horse  down  at  Glasgow  yonder  ;  they  ca'  their  com- 
mander Wittybody,  or  some  sic  name,  though  he's  as  grave 
and  grewsome  an  auld  Dutchman  as  e'er  I  saw." 

"  Wittenbold,  perhaps?"  said  Morton;  *'an  old  man, 
with  gray  hair  and  short  black  moustaches  ;  speaks  seldom  ?  " 


805  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

**  And  smokes  forever,"  replied  Niel  Blane.  ''I  see  youT 
honor  kens  the  man.  He  may  be  a  very  gade  man  too,  for 
aught  I  see,  that  is,  considering  he  is  a  sodger  and  a  Dutch- 
man ;  but  if  he  were  ten  generals,  and  as  mony  Wittybodies, 
he  has  nae  skill  in  the  pipes  ;  he  gar'd  me  stop  in  the  middle 
or  *  Torphichen's  Rant,^  the  best  piece  o'  music  that  ever  bag 
gae  wind  to." 

"But  these  fellows,"  said  Morton,  glancing  his  eye  to- 
wards the  soldiers  that  were  in  the  apartment,  "  are  not  of  his 
corps  ?  " 

"  Na,  na,  these  are  Scotch  dragoons,^' said  mine  host ;  "  our 
ain  auld  caterpillars  ;  these  were  Olaver'se's  lads  a  while  syne, 
and  wad  be  again,  ma3^be,  if  he  had  the  lang  ten  in  his  hand." 

"  Is  there  not  a  report  of  his  death  ?"  inquired  Morton. 

"  Troth  is  there,"  said  the  landlord  ;  '^  your  honor  is  right : 
there  is  sic  a  fleeing  rumor ;  but,  in  my  puir  opinion,  it's  lang 
or  the  deil  die.  I  wad  hae  the  folks  here  look  to  themsells. 
If  he  makes  an  outbreak,  he'll  be  doun  frae  the  Hielands  or  I 
could  drink  this  glass  ;  and  whare  are  they  then  ?  A'  thae 
hell-rakers  o'  dragoons  wad  be  at  his  whistle  in  a  moment. 
Nae  doubt  they're  Willie's  men  e'en  now,  as  they  were  James's 
a  while  syne  ;  and  reason  good — they  fight  for  their  pay  ;  what 
else  hae  they  to  fight  for  ?  They  hae  neither  lands  nor  houses, 
I  trow.  There's  ae  gude  thing  o'  the  change — or  the  Revolu- 
tion, as  they  ca'  ii^folks  may  speak  out  afore  thae  birkies 
now,  and  nae  fear  o'  being  hauled  awa'  to  the  guard-house,  or 
having  the  thumikins  screwed  on  your  finger-ends,  just  as  I 
wad  drive  the  screw  through  a  cork." 

There  was  a  little  pause,  when  Morton,  feeling  confident 
in  the  progress  he  had  made  in  mine  host's  familiarity,  asked, 
though  with  the  hesitation  proper  to  one  who  puts  a  question 
on  the  answer  to  which  rests  something  of  importance — 
*^  Whether  Blane  knew  a  woman  in  that  neighborhood  called 
Elizabeth  Maclure  ?" 

"  Whether  I  ken  Bessie  Maclure  ?  "  answered  the  landlord, 
with  a  landlord's  laugh.  "  How  can  I  but  ken  my  ain  wife's 
— haly  be  her  rest ! — my  ain  wife's  first  gudeman's  sister, 
Bessie  Maclure  ?  An  honest  wife  she  is,  but  sair  she's  been 
trysted  wi'  misfortunes — the  loss  o'  twa  decent  lads  o'sons,  in 
the  time  o'  the  persecution,  as  they  ca'  it  nowadays  ;  and. 
doucely  and  decently  she  has  borne  her  burden,  blaming  nane 
and  condemning  nane.  If  there's  an  honest  woman  in  the 
world,  it's  Bessie  Maclure.  And  to  lose  her  twa  sons,  as  I 
was  saying,  and  to  hae  dragoons  clinked  down  on  her  for 
a  month  by-past,  for,  be   Whig  or  Tory  uppermost,   the;y 


OLD  MORTALITY  861 

aye  quarter  thae  loons  on  victuallers — to  lose,  as  I  was  say- 
ing  " 

''  This  woman  keeps  an  inn,  then  ?  "  interrupted  Morton. 

"  A  public,  in  a  puir  way,''  replied  Blane,  looking  round 
at  his  own  superior  accommodations — '^a  sour  browst  o'sma' 
ale  that  she  sells  to  folk  that  are  ower  drouthy  wi'  travel  to  be 
nice  ;  but  naething  to  ca'  a  stirring  trade  or  a  thriving  change- 
house/' 

^'  Can  you  get  me  a  guide  there  ?''  said  Morton. 

''  Your  honor  will  rest  here  a'  the  night  ?  ye^ll  hardly  get 
accommodation  at  Bessie's,"  said  Niel,  whose  regard  for  his 
deceased  wife's  relative  by  no  means  extended  to  sending 
company  from  his  own  house  to  hers. 

^' There  is  a  friend,"  answered  Morton,  "whom  I  am  to 
meet  with  there,  and  I  only  called  here  to  take  a  stirrup-cup 
and  inquire  the  way." 

''  Your  honor  had  better," answered  the  landlord,  with  the 
perseverance  of  his  calling,  "send  some  ane  to  warn  your 
friend  to  come  on  here." 

"I  tell  you,  landlord,"  answered  Morton,  impatiently, 
'^  that  will  not  serve  my  purpose  ;  I  must  go  straight  to  this 
woman  Maclure's  house,  and  I  desire  you  to  find  me  a  guide." 

"  Aweel,  sir,  ye'll  choose  for  yoursell,  to  be  sure,"  said  Kiel 
Blane,  somewhat  disconcerted  ;  "  but  deil  a  guide  ye'll  need, 
if  ye  gae  doun  the  water  for  twa  mile  or  sae,  as  gin  ye  were 
bound  for  Milnwood  House,  and  then  tak  the  first  broken  dis- 
jasked-looking  road  that  makes  for  the  hills — ye'll  ken't  by  a 
broken  ash-tree  that  stands  at  the  side  o'  a  burn  just  where 
the  roads  meet — and  then  travel  out  the  path  ;  ye  canna  miss 
Widow  Maclure's  public,  for  deil  another  house  or  hauld  is  on 
the  road  for  ten  lang  Scots  miles,  and  that's  worth  twenty 
English.  I  am  sorry  your  honor  would  think  o'  gaun  out  o' 
my  house  the  night.  But  my  wife's  gude-sister  is  a  decent 
woman,  and  it's  no  lost  that  a  friend  gets." 

Morton  accordiugly  paid  his  reckoning  and  departed.  The 
sunset  of  the  summer  day  placed  him  at  the  ash-tree,  where 
the  path  led  up  towards  the  moors. 

"Here,"   he   said  to   himself,    "my    misfortunes    com- 
menced ;  for  just  here,  when  Burley  and  I  were  about  to  sep- 
arate on  the  first  night  we  ever  met,  he  was  alarmed  by  the 
intelligence  that  the  passes  were  secured  by  soldiers  lying  in 
wait  for  him.     Beneath  that  very  ash  sat  the  old  woman  ^^ 
who  apprised  him  of  his  danger.     How  strange  that  my  whole      | 
fortunes   should  have  become  inseparably  interwoven    with      j 
that  man's,  without  anything  more  on  my  part  than  the  dis-  ^J 


868  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

charge  of  an  ordinary  duty  of  humanity  !  Would  to  Heaven 
it  were  possible  I  could  find  my  humble  quiet  and  tranquillity 
of  mind  upon  the  spot  where  I  lost  them  ! " 

Thus  arranging  his  reflections  betwixt  speech  and  thought, 
he  turned  his  borsch's  head  up  the  path. 

Evening  lowered  around  him  as  he  advanced  up  the  nar- 
row dell  which  had  once  been  a  wood,  but  was  now  a  ravine 
divested  of  trees,  unless  where  a  few,  from  their  inaccessible 
situation  on  the  edge  of  precipitous  banks,  or  clinging  among 
rocks  and  huge  stones,  defied  the  invasion  of  men  and  of  cat- 
tle, like  the  scattered  tribes  of  a  conquered  country,  driven  to 
take  refuge  in  the  barren  strength  of  its  mountains.  These 
too,  wasted  and  decayed,  seemed  rather  to  exist  than  to  flourish, 
and  only  served  to  indicate  what  the  landscape  had  once  been. 
But  the  stream  brawled  down  among  them  in  all  its  freshness 
and  vivacity,  giving  the  life  and  animation  which  a  mountain 
rivulet  alone  can  confer  on  the  barest  and  most  savage  scenes, 
and  which  the  inhabitants  of  such  a  country  miss  when  gaz- 
ing even  upon  the  tranquil  winding  of  a  niajestic  stream 
through  plains  of  fertility,  and  beside  palaces  of  splendor. 
The  track  of  the  road  followed  the  course  of  the  brook,  which 
was  now  visible,  and  now  only  to  be  distinguished  by  its 
brawling  heard  among  the  stones,  or  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock, 
that  occasionally  interrupted  its  course. 

*'  Murmurer  that  thou  art,''  said  Morton,  in  the  enthusi- 
asm of  his  reverie,  ^'  why  chafe  with  the  rocks  that  stop  thy 
course  for  a  moment  ?  There  is  a  sea  to  receive  thee  in  its 
bosom  ;  and  there  is  an  eternity  for  man  when  his  fretful  and 
hasty  course  through  the  vale  of  time  shall  be  ceased  and  over. 
What  thy  petty  fuming  is  to  the  deep  and  vast  billows  of  a 
shoreless  ocean,  are  our  cares,  hopes,  fears,  joys,  and  sorrows 
to  the  objects  which  must  occupy  us  through  the  awful  and 
boundless  succession  of  ages.'' 

Thus  moralizing,  our  traveller  passed  on  till  the  dell  opened, 
and  the  banks,  receding  from  the  brook,  left  a  little  green 
vale,  exhibiting  a  croft  or  small  field,  on  which  some  corn  was 
growing,  and  a  cottage,  whose  walls  were  not  above  five  feet 
high,  and  whose  thatched  roof,  green  with  moisture,  age, 
house-leek,  and  grass,  had  in  some  places  suffered  damage 
from  the  encroachment  of  two  cows,  whose  appetite  this  ap- 
pearance of  verdure  had  diverted  from  their  more  legitimate 
pasture.  An  ill-spelled  and  worse-written  inscription  inti- 
mated to  the  traveller  that  he  might  here  find  refreshment 
for  man  and  horse  ;  no  unacceptable  intimation,  rude  as  the 
hut  appeared  to  be,  considering  the  wild  path  he  had  trod  in 


OLD  MORTALITY  369 

approaching  it,  and  the  high  and  waste  mountains  which  rose 
in  desolate  dignity  behind  this  humble  asylum. 

*'  It  must  indeed  have  been,"  thought  Morton,  *'  in  some 
such  spot  as  this  that  Burley  was  likely  to  find  a  congenial 
confidant." 

As  he  approached,  he  observed  the  good  dame  of  the  house 
herself  seated  by  the  door ;  she  had  hitherto  been  concealed 
from  him  by  a  huge  alder-bush. 

* '  Good  evening,  mother, "  said  the  traveller.  ' '  Your  name 
is  Mistress  Maclure  ?  " 

*' Elizabeth  Maclure,  sir,  a  poor  widow,"  was  the  reply. 

^'  Can  you  lodge  a  stranger  for  a  night  ?" 

"I  can,  sir,  if  he  will  be  pleased  with  the  widow's  cake 
and  the  widow's  cruise." 

^*I  have  been  a  soldier,  good  dame,"  answered  Morton, 
"and  nothing  can  come  amiss  to  me  in  the  way  of  entertain- 
ment." 

"  A  sodger,  sir  ?  "  said  the  old  woman,  with  a  sigh.  * '  God 
send  ye  a  better  trade  ! " 

"'  It  is  believed  to  be  an  honorable  profession,  my  good 
dame.  I  hope  you  do  not  think  the  woiiBe  of  me  for  having 
belonged  to  it  ? " 

"I  judge  no  one,  sir,"  replied  the  woman,  "and  your 
voice  sounds  like  that  of  a  civil  gentleman ;  but  I  hae  wit- 
nessed sae  muckle  ill  wi'  sodgering  in  this  puir  land  that  I  am 
e'en  content  that  I  can  see  nae  mair  o't  wi'  these  sightless 
organs." 

As  she  spoke  thus,  Morton  observed  that  she  was  blind. 

"  Shall  I  not  be  troublesome  to  you,  my  good  dame  r"  said 
he,  compassionately  ;  "your  infirmity  seems  ill  calculated  for 
your  profession." 

"Na,  sir,"  answered  the  old  woman ;  "I  can  gang  about 
the  house  readily  eneugh  ;  and  I  hae  a  bit  lassie  to  help  me, 
and  the  dragoon  lads  will  look  after  your  horse  when  they  come 
hame  f rae  their  patrol,  for  a  sma'  matter ;  they  are  civiller 
now  than  lang  syne." 

Upon  these  assurances,  Morton  alighted. 

"  Peggy,  my  bonny  bird,"  continued  the  hostess,  address- 
ing a  little  girl  of  twelve  years  old,  who  had  by  this  time  ap- 
peared, "tak  the  gentleman's  horse  to  the  stable,  and  slack 
his  girths,  and  tak  aff  the  bridle,  and  shake  down  a  lock  o' 
hay  before  him,  till  the  dragoons  come  back.  Come  this  way, 
sir,"  she  continued  ;  "ye'll  find  my  house  cleaai,  though  it's  a 
puir  ane." 

Morton  followed  her  into  the  cottage  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  XLII 

Then  out  and  spake  the  auld  mother, 

And  fast  her  tears  did  fa — 
**  Ye  wadna  be  warn'd,  my  son  Johnie, 

Frae  the  hunting  to  bide  awa  I " 

Old  Ballad. 

When  he  entered  the  cottage,  Morton  perceived  that  the  old 
hostess  had  spoken  truth.  The  inside  of  the  hut  belied  its 
outward  appearance,  and  was  neat,  and  even  comfortable,  es- 
pecially the  inner  apartment,  in  which  the  hostess  informed 
her  guest  that  he  was  to  sup  and  sleep.     Refreshments  were 

E laced  before  him,  such  as  the  little  inn  afforded  ;  and,  though 
e  had  small  occasion  for  them,  he  accepted  the  offer,  as  the 
means  of  maintaining  some  discourse  with  the  landlady.  Not- 
withstanding her  blindness,  she  was  assiduous  in  her  attend- 
ance, and  seemed,  by  a  sort  of  instinct,  to  find  her  way  to 
what  she  wanted. 

**  Have  you  no  one  but  this  pretty  little  girl  to  assist  you  in 
waiting  on  your  guests  ?  "  was  the  natural  question. 

**  None,  sir,"  replied  his  old  hostess  ;  '^  I  dwell  alone,  like 
the  widow  of  Zarephath.  Few  guests  come  to  thispuir  place  ; 
and  I  haena  custom  eneugh  to  hire  servants.  I  had  anes  twa 
fine  sons  that  lookit  after  a'thing.  But  God  gives  and  takes 
away.  His  name  be  praised ! "  she  continued,  turning  her 
clouded  eyes  towards  Heaven.  '^  I  was  anes  better  off,  that  is, 
warldly  speaking,  even  since  I  lost  them  ;  but  that  was  before 
this  last  change." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Morton,  *'  and  yet  you  are  a  Presbyterian, 
my  good  mother  ?  " 

"  I  am,  sir,  praised  be  the  light  that  showed  me  the  right 
way,"  replied  the  landlady. 

"  Then  I  should  have  thought,"  continued  the  guest,  *'the 
Revolution  would  have  brought  you  nothing  but  good." 

*'  If,"  said  the  old  woman,  *'  it  has  brought  the  land  gude, 
and  freedom  of  worship  to  tender  consciences,  it's  little  matter 
what  it  has  brought  to  a  puir  blind  worm  like  me." 

"Still,"  replied  Morton,  "  I  cannot  see  how  it  could  poe- 
Bibly  injure  you." 

])7Q 


OLD  MORTALITY  87t 

'^  It's  a  lang  story,  sir/'  answered  his  hostess,  with  a  sigh.  -  ^i^/^^ 
"But  ae  night,  sax  weeks  or  thereby  afore  Bothwell  Brig,  a'v^ 
young  gentleman  stopped  at  this  puir  cottage,  stiff  and  bloody 
with  wounds,  pale  and  dune  out  wi'  riding,  and  his  horse  sae 
weary  he  couldna  drag  ae  foot  after  the  other,  and  his  foes 
were  close  ahint  him,  and  he  was  ane  o'  our  enemies.  What 
could  I  do,  sir  ?  You  that's  a  sodger  will  think  me  but  a  silly 
auld  wife  ;  but  I  fed  him  and  relieved  him,  and  keepit  him 
hidden  till  the  pursuit  was  ower." 

"  And  who,  said  Morton,  "  dares  disappsove  of  your  hav- 
ing done  so  ?  " 

**  I  kenna,"  answered  the  blind  woman  ;  ''  I  gat  ill-will 
about  it  amang  some  o'  our  ain  folk.  They  said  I  should  hae 
been  to  him  what  Jael  was  to  Sisera.  But  weel  I  wot  I  had 
nae  divine  command  to  shed  blood,  and  to  save  it  was  baith 
like  a  woman  and  a  Christian.  And  then  they  said  I  wanted 
natural  affection,  to  relieve  ane  that  belanged  to  the  ban(] 
that  murdered  my  twa  sons." 

*'  That  murdered  your  two  sons  ?" 

'^Ay,  sir;  though  maybe  ye'll  gie  their  deaths  anothet 
name.  The  tane  fell  wi'  sword  in  hand,  fighting  for  a  broken 
National  Covenant ;  the  tother — 0,  they  took  him  and  shot 
him  dead  on  the  green  before  his  mother's  face  !  My  auld  een 
dazzled  when  the  shots  were  looten  off,  and,  to  my  thought, 
they  waxed  weaker  and  weaker  ever  since  that  weary  day ; 
and  sorrow,  and  heartbreak,  and  tears  that  would  not  be  dried 
might  help  on  the  disorder.  But,  alas  !  betraying  Lord  Evan- 
dale's  young  blood  to  his  enemies' sword  wad  ne'er  hae  brought 
my  Ninian  and  Johnie  alive  again." 

*'  Lord  Evandale  ! "  said  Morton,  in  surprise.  "  Was  it 
Lord  Evandale  whose  life  you  saved  ?" 

''In  troth,  even  his,"  she  replied.  "And  kind  he  was 
to  me  after,  and  gae  me  a  cow  and  calf,  malt,  meal,  and 
siller,  and  nane  durst  steer  me  when  he  was  in  power.  But 
we  live  on  an  outside  bit  of  Tillietudlem  land,  and  the  estate 
was  sair  plea'd  between  Leddy  Margaret  Bellenden  and  the 
present  Laird,  Basil  Olifant,  and  Lord  Evandale  backed  the 
auld  leddy  for  love  o'  her  daugUier  Miss  Edith,  as  the  coun- 
try said,  ane  o'  the  best  and  bonniest  lasses  in  Scotland.  But 
they  behuved  to  gie  way,  and  Basil  gat  the  Castle  and  land, 
and  on  the  back  o'  that  came  the  Revolution,  and  wha  to 
turn  coat  faster  than  the  Laird  ?  for  he  said  he  had  been  a 
true  Whig  a'  the  time,  and  turned  Papist  only  for  fashion's 
sake.  And  then  he  got  favor,  and  Lord  Evandale's  head 
was  under  water ;  for  he  was  ower  proud  and  manfu'  to  bend 


87a  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  every  blast  o^  wind,  though  mony  a  ane  may  ken  as  weel 
as  me  that,  be  his  ain  principles  as  they  might,  he  was  nae 
ill  friend  to  our  folk  when  he  could  protect  us,  and  far  kinder 
than  Basil  Olifant,  that  aye  keepit  the  cobble  head  doun  the 
stream.  But  he  was  set  by  and  ill  looked  on,  and  his  word  ne'er 
asked  ;  and  then  Basil,  wha's  a  revengefu'  man,  set  himsell 
to  vex  him  in  a,'  shapes,  and  especially  by  oppressing  and  de 
spoiling  the  auld  blind  widow,  Bessie  Maclure,  that  savea 
Lord  Evandale's  life^  and  that  he  was  sae  kind  to.  But  he's 
mistaen,  if  that's  his  end  ;  for  it  will  be  lang  or  Lord  Evan- 
dale  hears  a  word  frae  me  about  the  selling  my  kye  for  rent 
or  e'er  it  was  due,  or  the  putting  the  dragoons  on  me  when 
the  country's  quiet,  or  onything  else  that  will  vex  him  ;  I  can 
bear  my  ain  burden  patiently,  and  warld's  loss  is  the  least 
part  o't.'' 

Astonished  and  interested  at  this  picture  of  patient, 
grateful,  and  high-minded  resignation,  Morton  could  not 
help  bestowing  an  execration  upon  the  poor-spirited  rascal 
who  had  taken  such  a  dastardly  course  of  vengeance. 

"  Dinna  curse  him,  sir,"  said  the  old  woman  ;  "  I  have 
heard  a  good  man  say  that  a  curse  was  like  a  stone  flung  up  to 
the  heavens,  and  maist  like  to  return  on  the  head  that  sent  it. 
But  if  ye  ken  Lord  Evandale,  bid  him  look  to  himsell,  for  I 
hear  strange  words  pass  atween  the  sodgers  that  are  lying  here, 
and  his  name  is  often  mentioned  ;  and  the  tane  o'  them  has 
been  twice  up  at  Tillietudlem.  He's  a  kind  of  favorite  wi' 
the  Laird,  though  he  was  in  former  times  ane  o'  the  maist 
cruel  oppressors  ever  rade  through  a  country — out-taken 
Sergeant  Both  well — they  ca'  him  Inglis."  * 

*'I  have  the  deepest  interest  in  Lord  Evandale's  safety,'' 
said  Morton,  "and  you  may  depend  on  my  finding  some 
mode  to  apprise  him  of  these  suspicious  circumstances.  And 
in  return,  my  good  friend,  will  you  indulge  me  with  another 
question  ?  Do  you  know  anything  of  Quintin  Mackell  of 
Irongray  ?  " 

"  Do  I  know  whom  9  "  echoed  the  blind  woman,  in  a  tone 
of  great  surprise  and  alarm. 

"  Quintm  Mackell  of  Irongray,"  repeated  Morton  ;  "  is 
there  anything  so  alarming  in  the  sound  of  that  name  ?  " 

"  Na,  na/  answered  the  woman,  with  hesitation,  '*but  to 
hear  him  asked  after  by  a  stranger  and  a  sodger — Gude  pro- 
tect us,  what  mischief  is  to  come  next ! " 

"None  by  my  means,  I  assure  you,"  said  Morton  ;  "the 
subject  of  my  inquiry  has  nothing  to  fear  from  me,  if,  as  I 

*SeeNote88. 


OLD  MORTALITY  878 

snppose,   this    Qaintin    Mackell    is    the    same  with    John 
Bal " 

^*^Do  not  mention  his  name/*  said  the  widow,  pressing  his 
lips  with  her  fingers.  ''I  see  you  have  his  secret  and  his 
password,  and  Fll  be  free  wi'  you.  But,  for  God's  sake,  speak 
lound  and  low.  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  I  trust  ye  seek  him 
not  to  his  hurt  !     Ye  said  ye  were  a  sodger  ?  '' 

"  I  said  truly  ;  but  one  he  has  nothing  to  fear  from.  I 
ocmmanded  a  party  at  Both  well  Bridge.** 

^'Indeed  !  **  said  the  woman.  ''And  verily  there  is  some 
thing  in  your  voice  I  can  ti  ust.  Ye  speak  prompt  and  readily 
and  like  an  honest  man.** 

"  I  trust  I  am  so,**  said  Morton. 

•'But  nae  displeasure  to  you,  sir,  in  thae  waefu*  time^ 
continued  Mrs.  Maclure,  "the   hand  of   brother  is   against 
brother,  and  he  fears  as  mickle  almaist  frae  this  government 
as  e'er  he  did  frae  the  auld  persecutors.'* 

" Indeed  ?**  said  Morton,  in  a  tone  of  inquiry  ;  "I  was  not 
aware  of  that.  But  I  am  only  just  now  returned  from 
abroad.** 

"  1*11  tell  ye,**  said  the  blind  woman,  first  assuming  an  at- 
titude of  listening  that  showed  how  effectually  her  powers  of 
collecting  intelligence  had  been  transferred  from  the  eye  to 
the  ear ;  for,  instead  of  casting  a  glance  of  circumspection 
around,  she  stooped  her  face,  and  turned  her  head  slowly 
around,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  insure  that  there  was  not  the 
slightest  sound  stirring  in  the  neighborhood,  and  then  con- 
tinued— "  1*11  tell  ye.  Ye  ken  how  he  has  labored  to  raise  up 
again  the  Covenant,  burned,  broken,  and  buried  in  the  hard 
hearts  and  selfish  devices  of  this  stubborn  people.  Now, 
when  he  went  to  Holland,  far  from  the  countenance  and 
thanks  of  the  great,  and  the  comfortable  fellowship  of  the 
godly,  both  whilk  he  was  in  right  to  expect,  the  Prince  of 
Orange  wad  show  him  no  favor,  and  the  ministers  no  godly 
communion.  This  was  hard  to  bide  for  ane  that  had  suffered 
and  done  mickle — ower  mickle,  it  may  be — but  why  suld  I  be 
a  judge  ?  He  came  back  to  me  and  to  the  auld  place  o*  refuge 
that  had  often  received  him  in  his  distresses,  mair  especially 
before  the  great  day  of  victory  at  Drumclog,  for  I  sail  ne*er 
forget  how  he  was  bending  hither  of  a*  nights  in  the  year  on 
that  e*ening  after  the  play,  when  young  Milnwood  wan  the 
popinjay  ;  but  I  warned  him  off  for  that  time.** 

"What!'*  exclaimed  Morton,  "it  was  you  that  sat  in 
your  red  cloak  by  the  high-road  and  told  him  there  was  a  lion 
in  the  path?** 


874  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'  In  the  name  of  Heaven !  wha  are  ye  ? "  said  the  old 
woman,  breaking  off  her  narrative  in  astonishment.  *'  But  be 
wha  ye  may/'  she  continued,  resuming  it  with  tranquillity, 
'*  ye  can  ken  nae thing  waur  o'  me  than  that  I  hae  been  willing 
to  save  the  life  o'  friend  and  foe/' 

'^I  know  no  ill  of  you,  Mrs.  Maclure,  and  I  mean  no  ill 
by  you  ;  I  only  wished  to  show  you  that  I  know  so  much  of 
this  person's  affairs,  that  I  might  be  safely  intrusted  with  the 
rest.     Proceed,  if  you  please,  in  your  narrative." 

"  There  is  a  strange  command  in  your  voice,''  said  the 
blind  woman,  ''  though  its  tones  are  sweet.  I  have  little 
mair  to  say.  The  Stewarts  hae  been  dethroned,  and  William 
and  Mary  reign  in  their  stead,  but  nae  mair  word  of  the 
Covenant  than  if  it  were  a  dead  letter.  They  hae  taen  the 
Indulged  clergy,  and  an  Erastian  General  Assembly  of  the 
ance  pure  and  triumphant  Kirk  of  Scotland  even  into  their 
very  arms  and  bosoms.  Our  faithfu'  champions  o'  the  testi- 
mony agree  e'en  waur  wi'  this  than  wi'  the  open  tyranny  and 
apostasy  of  the  persecuting  times,  for  souls  are  hardened  and 
deadened,  and  the  mouths  of  fasting  multitudes  are  crammed 
wi'  fizzenless  bran  instead  of  the  sweet  word  in  season  ;  and 
mony  an  hungry,  starving  creature,  when  he  sits  down  on  a 
Sunday  forenoon  to  get  something  that  might  warm  him  to 
the  great  work,  has  a  dry  clatter  o'  morality  driven  about  his 
lugs,  and- " 

''In  short,"  said  Morton  desirous  to  stop  a  discussion 
which  the  good  old  woman,  as  enthusiastically  attached  to  her 
religious  profession  as  to  the  duties  of  humanity,  might  prob- 
ably have  indulged  longer — ''  in  short,  you  are  not  disposed 
to  acquiesce  in  this  new  government,  and  Burley  is  of  the  same 
opinion  ?" 

''  Many  of  our  brethren,  sir,  are  of  belief  we  fought  for  the 
Covenant,  and  fasted,  and  prayed,  and  suffered  for  that  grand 
national  league,  and  now  we  are  like  neither  to  see  nor  hear 
tell  of  that  which  we  suffered,  and  fought,  and  fasted,  and 
prayed  for.  And  anes  it  was  thought  something  might  be 
made  by  bringing  back  the  auld  family  on  a  new  bargain  and 
a  new  bottom,  as,  after  a',  when  King  James  went  awa',  I  un- 
derstand the  great  quarrel  of  the  English  against  him  was  in 
behalf  of  seven  unhallowed  prelates  ;  and  sae,  though  ae  part 
of  our  people  were  free  to  join  wi'  the  present  model,  and 
levied  an  armed  regiment  under  the  Yerl  of  Angus,  yet  our 
honest  friend,  and  others  that  stude  up  for  purity  of  doctrine 
and  freedom  of  conscience,  were  determined  to  hear  the  breath 
o'  the  Jacobites  before  they  took  part  ugain  them,  fearing 


OLD  MORTALITY  875 

to  fa'  to  the  ground  like  a  wall  built  with  unslaked  mortar, 
or  from  sitting  between  twa  stools." 

''  They  chose  an  odd  quarter," said  Morton,  ^^  from  which 
to  expect  freedom  of  conscience  and  purity  of  doctrine." 

*'  0,  dear  sir  ! "  said  the  landlady,  ^'  the  natural  dayspring 
rises  in  the  east,  but  the  spiritual  dayspring  may  rise  in  the 
north,  for  what  we  blinded  mortals  ken." 

''  And  Burley  went  to  the  north  to  seek  it  ?  "  replied  the 
guest. 

''  Truly  ay,  sir  ;  and  he  saw  Claver'se  himsell,  that  they 
ca'  Dundee  now." 

^*  What  ! "  exclaimed  Morton,  in  amazement ;  ''I  would 
have  sworn  that  meeting  would  have  been  the  last  of  one  of 
their  lives." 

^^  Na,  na,  sir ;  in  troubled  times,  as  I  understand,"  said 
Mrs.  Maclure,  *' there's  sudden  changes — Montgomery,  and 
Ferguson,  and  mony  ane  mair  that  were  King  James's  great- 
est faes,  are  on  his  side  now  ;  Olaver'se  spake  our  friend  fair, 
and  sent  him  to  consult  with  Lord  Evandale.  But  then  there 
was  a  break-off,  for  Lord  Evandale  wadna  look  at,  hear,  or 
speak  wi'  him  ;  and  now  he's  anes  wud  and  aye  waur,  and 
roars  for  revenge  again  Lord  Evandale,  and  will  hear  naught 
of  onything  but  burn  and  slay  ;  and  0  thae  starts  o'  passion  ! 
they  unsettle  his  mind,  and  gie  the, Enemy  sair  advantages." 

'^  The  enemy  ?"  said  Morton.     *^  What  enemy  ?" 

"  What  enemy  ?  Are  ye  acquainted  familiarly  wi'  John 
Balfour  o'  Burley,  and  dinna  ken  that  he  has  had  sair  and  fre- 
quent combats  to  sustain  against  the  Evil  One  ?  Did  ye  ever 
see  him  alone  but  the  Bible  was  in  his  hand  and  the  drawn 
sword  on  his  knee  ?  Did  ye  never  sleep  in  the  same  room  wi' 
him,  and  hear  him  strive  in  his  dreams  with  the  delusions  of 
Satan  ?  0,  ye  ken  little  o'  him,  if  ye  have  seen  him  only  in 
fair  daylight,  for  nae  man  can  put  the  face  upon  his  doleful 
visits  and  strifes  that  he  can  do.  I  hae  seen  him,  after  sic  a 
strife  of  agony,  tremble,  that  an  infant  might  hae  held  him, 
while  the  hair  on  his  brow  was  drapping  as  fast  as  ever  my 
puir  thatched  roof  did  in  a  heavy  rain." 

As  she  spoke,  Morton  began  to  recollect  the  appearance 
of  Burley  during  his  sleep  in  the  hay-loft  at  Milnwood,  the 
report  of  Cuddie  that  his  senses  had  become  impaired,  and 
some  whispers  current  among  the  Cameronians,  who  boasted 
frequently  of  Burley's  soul-exercises,  and  his  strifes  with  the 
foul  fiend  ;  which  several  circumstances  led  him  to  conclude 
that  this  man  himself  was  a  victim  to  those  delusions,  though 
his  mind,  naturally  acute  and  forcible,  not  only  disguised  his 


876  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

superstition  from  those  in  whose  opinion  it  might  have  dis- 
credited his  judgment,  but  by  exerting  such  a  force  as  is  said 
to  be  proper  to  those  afflicted  with  epilepsy,  could  postpone 
the  fits  which  it  occasioned  until  he  was  either  freed  from  super- 
intendence or  surrounded  by  such  as  held  him  more  highly  on 
account  of  these  visitations.  It  was  natural  to  suppose,  and 
could  easily  be  inferred  from  the  narrative  of  Mrs.  Maclure, 
that  disappointed  ambition,  wrecked  hopes,  and  the  downfall 
of  the  party  which  he  had  served  with  such  desperate  fidelity, 
were  likely  to  aggravate  enthusiasm  into  temporary  insanity. 
It  was,  indeed,  no  uncommon  circumstance  in  those  singular 
times,  that  men  like  Sir  Harry  Vane,  Harrison,  Overton,  and 
others,  themselves  slaves  to  the  wildest  and  most  enthusiastic 
dreams,  could,  when  mingling  with  the  world,  conduct  them- 
selves not  only  with  good  sense  in  difficulties  and  courage  in 
dangers,  but  with  the  most  acute  sagacity  and  determined 
valor.  The  subsequent  part  of  Mrs.  Maclure's  information 
confirmed  Morton  in  these  impressions. 

^'  In  the  gray  of  the  morning,'^  she  said,  *'  my  little  Peggy 
sail  show  ye  the  gate  to  him  before  the  sodgers  are  up.  But 
ye  maun  let  his  hour  of  danger,  as  he  ca^s  it,  be  ower,  afore 
ye  venture  on  him  in  his  place  of  refuge.  Peggy  will  tell  ye 
when  to  venture  in.  She  kens  his  ways  weel,  for  whiles  she 
carries  him  some  little  helps  that  he  canna  do  without  to  sus- 
tain life.'' 

*'  And  in  what  retreat,  then,"  said  Morton,  *'  has  this  un- 
fortunate person  found  refuge  ?  '' 

^'  Anawsome  place,"  answered  the  blind  woman, ''  as  ever 
living  creature  took  refuge  in.  They  ca'  it  the  Black  Lini;i 
of  Linklater.  It's  a  doleful  place  ;  but  he  loves  it  abune  a' 
others,  because  he  has  sae  often  been  in  safe  hiding  there ; 
and  it's  my  belief  he  prefers  it  to  a  tapestried  chamber  and  a 
down  bed.  But  ye'll  see't.  I  hae  seen  it  mysell  mony  a  day 
syne.  I  was  a  daft  hempie  lassie  then,  and  little  thought 
what  was  to  come  o't.  Wad  ye  choose  ony thing,  sir,  ere  ye 
betake  yoursell  to  your  rest,  for  ye  maun  stir  wi'  the  first 
dawn  o'  the  gray  light  ? " 

*'  Nothing  more,  my  good  mother,"  said  Morton ;  and 
they  parted  for  the  evening. 

Morton  recommended  himself  to  Heaven,  threw  himself 
on  the  bed,  heard,  between  sleeping  and  waking,  the  tramp- 
ling of  the  dragoon  horses  at  the  riders'  return  from  their 
patrol,  and  then  slept  soundly  after  such  painful  agitation. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

.]  • 

The  darksome  cave  they  enter,  where  they  found 
The  accursed  man,  low  sitting  on  the  ground, 
Musing  full  sadly  in  his  sullen  mind. 

Spenseb. 

As  the  morning  began  to  appear  on  the  mountains,  a  gentle 
knock  was  heard  at  the  door  of  the  humble  apartment  in 
which  Morton  slept,  and  a  girlish  treble  voice  asked  him  from 
without,  "If  he  wad  please  gang  to  the  Linn  or  the  folk 
raise  ?  " 

He  arose  upon  the  invitation,  and,  dressing  himself  hastily, 
went  forth  and  joined  his  little  guide.  The  mountain  maid 
tripped  lightly  before  him,  through  the  gray  haze,  over  hill  and 
moor.  It  was  a  wild  and  varied  walk,  unmarked  by  any  reg- 
ular or  distinguishable  track,  and  keeping,  upon  the  whole, 
the  direction  of  the  ascent  of  the  brook,  though  without  tra- 
cing its  windings.  The  landscape,  as  they  advanced,  became 
waster  and  more  wild,  until  nothing  but  heath  and  rock  encum- 
bered the  side  of  the  valley. 

**Is  the  place  still  distant  ?"  said  Morton. 

'^Nearly  a  mile  off,^'  answered  the  girl.  ''  We'll  be  there 
belyve." 

"  And  do  you  often  go  this  wild  journey,  my  little  maid  ?  " 

"  When  grannie  sends  me  wi'  milk  and  meal  to  the  Linn,'* 
answered  the  child. 

''  And  are  you  not  afraid  to  travel  so  wild  a  road  alone  ?'' 

*'  Hout  na,  sir,"  replied  the  guide  ;  "  nae  living  creature 
wad  touch  sic  a  bit  thing  as  I  am,  and  grannie  says  we  need 
never  fear  ony thing  else  when  we  are  doing  a  gude  turn.'' 

'*  Strong  in  innocence  as  in  triple  mail  !  "  said  Morton  to 
himself,  and  followed  her  steps  in  silence. 

They  soon  came  to  a  decayed  thicket,  where  brambles  and 
thorns  supplied  the  room  of  the  oak  and  birches  of  which  it 
had  once  consisted.  Here  the  guide  turned  short  off  the  open 
heath,  and  by  a  sheep  track  conducted  Morton  to  the  brook. 
A  hoarse  and  sullen  roar  had  in  part  prepared  him  for  the  scene 
which  presented  itself,  yet  it  was  not  to  be  viewed  without 

877 


178  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

surprise  and  even  terror.  When  he  emerged  from  the  devious 
path  which  conducted  him  through  the  thicket,  he  found  him- 
self placed  on  a  ledge  of  flat  rock,  projecting  over  one  side  of 
a  chasm  not  less  than  a  hundred  feet  deep,  where  the  dark 
mountain-stream  made  a  decided  and  rapid  shoot  over  the 
precipice,  and  was  swallowed  up  by  a  deep,  black,  yawning 
gulf.  The  eye  in  vain  strove  to  see  the  bottom  of  the  fall ;  it 
could  catch  but  one  sheet  of  foaming  uproar  and  sheer  de- 
scent, until  the  view  was  obstructed  by  the  projecting  crags 
which  enclosed  the  bottom  of  the  waterfall,  and  hid  from 
sight  the  dark  pool  which  received  its  tortured  waters ;  far 
beneath,  at  the  distance  of  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  the 
eye  caught  the  winding  of  the  stream  as  it  emerged  into  a 
more  open  course.  Bu  t  for  that  distance  they  were  lost  to  sight 
as  much  as  if  a  cavern  had  been  arched  over  them ;  and  indeed 
the  steep  and  projecting  ledges  of  rock  through  which  they 
wound  their  way  in  darkness  were  very  nearly  closing  and  over- 
roofing  their  course. 

While  Morton  gazed  at  this  scene  of  tumult,  which  seemed, 
by  the  surrounding  thickets  and  the  clefts  into  which  the 
waters  descended,  to  seek  to  hide  itself  from  every  eye,  his 
little  attendant,  as  she  stood  beside  him  on  the  platform  of 
rock  which  commanded  the  best  view  of  the  fall,  pulled  him 
by  the  sleeve,  and  said,  in  a  tone  which  he  could  not  hear 
without  stooping  his  ear  near  the  speaker,  '*  Hear  till  him ! 
Eh!  hear  till  him!" 

Morton  listened  more  attentively,  and  out  of  the  very  abyss 
into  which  the  brook  fell,  and  amidst  the  tumultuary  sounds 
of  the  cataract,  thought  he  could  distinguish  shouts,  screams, 
and  even  articulate  words,  as  if  the  tortured  demon  of  the 
stream  had  been  mingling  his  complaints  with  the  roar  of  his 
broken  waters. 

*'^  This  is  the  way,"  said  the  little  girl ;  '^  follow  me,  gin 
ye  please,  sir,  but  tak  tent  to  your  feet;"  and,  with  the  dar- 
ing agility  which  custom  had  rendered  easy,  she  vanished  from 
the  platform  on  which  she  stood,  and,  by  notches  and  slight 
projections  in  the  rock,  scrambled  down  its  face  into  the 
chasm  which  it  overhung.  Steady,  bold,  and  active,  Morton 
hesitated  not  to  follow  her  ;  but  the  necessary  attention  to 
secure  his  hold  and  footing  in  a  descent  where  both  foot  and 
hand  were  needful  for  security,  prevented  him  from  looking 
around  him,  till,  having  descended  nigh  twenty  feet,  ana 
being  sixty  or  seventy  above  the  pool  which  received  the  fall, 
his  guide  made  a  pause,  and  he  again  found  himself  by  her 
side  in  a  situation  that  appeared  equally  romantic  and  pre- 


OLD  MORTALITY  Kf9 

carious.  They  were  nearly  opposite  to  the  waterfall,  and  in 
point  of  level  situated  at  ahout  one-quarter's  depth  from  the 
point  of  the  cliJff  over  which  it  thundered,  and  three-fourths 
of  the  height  above  the  dark,  deep,  and  restless  pool  which 
received  its  fall.  Both  these  tremendous  points,  the  first 
shoot,  namely,  of  the  yet  unbroken  stream,  and  the  deep  and 
sombre  abyss  into  which  it  was  emptied,  were  full  before  him, 
as  well  as  the  whole  continuous  stream  of  billowy  froth,  which, 
dashing  from  the  one,  was  eddying  and  boiling  in  the  other. 
They  were  so  near  this  grand  phenomenon  that  they  were 
covered  with  its  spray,  and  well-nigh  deafened  by  the  inces- 
sant roar.  But  crossing  in  the  very  front  of  the  fall,  and  at 
scarce  three  yards' distance  from  the  cataract,  an  old  oak-tree, 
flung  across  the  chasm  in  a  manner  that  seemed  accidental, 
formed  a  bridge  of  fearfully  narrow  dimensions  and  uncertain 
footing.  The  upper  end  of  the  tree  rested  on  the  platform 
on  which  they  stood,  the  lower  or  uprooted  extremity  ex- 
tended behind  a  projection  on  the  opposite  side,  and  was 
secured,  Morton's  eye  could  not  discover  where.  From  be- 
hind the  same  projection  glimmered  a  strong  red  light,  which, 
glancing  in  the  waves  of  the  falling  water,  and  tingeing  them 
partially  with  crimson,  had  a  strange  preternatural  and  sinis- 
ter effect  when  contrasted  with  the  beams  of  the  rising  snn, 
which  glanced  on  the  first  broken  waves  of  the  fall,  though 
even  its  meridian  splendor  could  not  gain  the  third  of  its  full 
depth.  When  he  had  looked  around  him  for  a  moment,  the 
girl  again  pulled  his  sleeve,  and  pointing  to  the  oak  and  the 
projecting  point  beyond  it  (for  hearing  speech  was  now  out  of 
the  question),  indicated  that  there  lay  his  further  passage. 

Morton  gazed  at  her  with  surprise  ;  for,  although  he  well 
knew  that  the  persecuted  Presbyterians  had  in  the  preceding 
reigns  sought  refuge  among  dells  and  thickets,  caves  and  cat- 
aracts, in  spots  the  most  extraordinary  and  secluded,  although 
he  had  heard  of  the  champions  of  the  Covenant  who  had  long 
abidden  beside  Dob's  Linn  on  the  wild  heights  of  Polmoodie, 
and  others  who  had  been  concealed  in  the  yet  more  terrific  cav- 
ern called  Crichope  Linn,  in  the  parish  of  Closeburn,*  yet  his 
imagination  had  never  exactly  figured  out  the  horrors  of  such 
a  residence,  and  he  was  surprised  how  the  strange  and  roman- 
tic scene  which  he  now  saw  had  remained  concealed  from  him, 
while  a  curious  investigator  of  such  natural  phenomena.  But 
he  readily  conceived  that,  lying  in  a  remote  and  wild  district, 
and  being  destined  as  a  place  of  concealment  to  the  perse- 
'^uted  preachers  and  professors  of  nonconformity,  the  secret  of 

*  See  The  Retreats  of  the  Covenanters.    Note  87. 


380  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

its  existence  was  carefully  preserved  by  the  few  shepherds  to 
whom  it  might  be  known. 

As,  breaking  from  these  meditations,  he  began  to  consider 
how  he  should  traverse  the  doubtful  and  terrific  bridge,  which, 
skirted  by  the  cascade,  and  rendered  wet  and  slippery  by  its 
constant  drizzle,  traversed  the  chasm  above  sixty  feet  from  the 
bottom  of  the  fall,  his  guide,  as  if  to  give  him  courage,  tripped 
over  and  back  without  the  least  hesitation.  Envying  for  a 
moment  the  little  bare  feet  which  caught  a  safer  hold  of  the 
rugged  side  of  the  oak  than  he  could  pretend  to  with  his  heavy 
boots,  Morton  nevertheless  resolved  to  attempt  the  passage, 
and,- fixing  his  eye  firm  on  a  stationary  object  on  the  other 
side,  without  allowing  his  head  to  become  giddy,  or  his  atten- 
tion to  be  distracted  by  the  flash,  the  foam,  and  the  roar  of 
the  waters  around  him,  he  strode  steadily  and  safely  along  the 
uncertain  bridge,  and  reached  the  mouth  of  a  small  cavern  on 
the  further  side  of  the  torrent.  Here  he  paused  ;  for  a  light, 
proceeding  from  a  fire  of  red-hot  charcoal,  permitted  him  to 
see  the  interior  of  the  cave,  and  enabled  him  to  contemplate 
the  appearance  of  its  inhabitant,  by  whom  he  himself  could 
not  be  so  readily  distinguished,  being  concealed  by  the  shadow 
of  the  rock.  What  he  observed  would  by  no  means  have  en- 
couraged a  less  determined  man  to  proceed  with  the  task  which 
he  had  undertaken. 

Burley,  only  altered  from  what  he  had  been  formerly  by 
the  addition  of  a  grisly  beard,  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  cave, 
with  his  clasped  Bible  in  one  hand  and  his  drawn  sword  in 
the  other.  His  figure,  dimly  ruddied  by  the  light  of  the  red 
charcoal,  seemed  that  of  a  fiend  in  the  lurid  atmosphere  of 
Pandemonium,  and  his  gestures  and  words,  as  far  as  they 
could  be  heard,  seemed  equally  violent  and  irregular.  All 
alone,  and  in  a  place  of  almost  unapproachable  seclusion,  his 
demeanor  was  that  of  a  man  who  strives  for  life  and  death 
with  a  mortal  enemy.  **Ha  !  ha!  there — there  !'^  he  ex- 
claimed, accompanying  each  word  with  a  thrust,  urged  with 
his  whole  force  against  the  impassible  and  empty  air.  "  Did 
I  not  tell  thee  so  ?  I  have  resisted,  and  thou  fleest  from  me  ! 
Coward  as  thou  art,  come  in  all  thy  terrors — come  with  mine 
own  evil  deeds,  which  render  thee  most  terrible  of  all ;  there 
is  enough  betwixt  the  boards  of  this  book  to  rescue  me  I 
What  mutterest  thou  of  gray  hairs  ?  It  was  well  done  to  slay 
him  :  the  more  ripe  the  corn  the  readier  for  the  sickle.  Art 
gone  ? — art  gone  ?  I  have  ever  known  thee  but  a  coward — 
ha!  ha  I  haP 

With  these  wild  exclamations  he  sunk  the  point  of  his 


OLD  MORTALITY  881 

sword,  and  remained  standing  still  in  the  same  posture,  like 
a  maniac  whose  fit  is  over. 

*'  The  dangerous  time  is  by  now,"  said  the  little  girl,  who 
had  followed  ;  "it  seldom  lasts  beyond  the  time  that  the 
sun's  ower  the  hiih  Ye  may  gang  in  and  speak  wi'  him  now. 
I'll  wait  for  you  at  the  other  side  of  the  Linn  ;  he  canna  bide 
to  see  twa  folk  at  anes.'^ 

Slowly  and  cautiously,  and  keeping  constantly  upon  his 
guard,  Morton  presented  himself  to  the  view  of  his  old  asso- 
ciate in  command. 

"What!  comest  thou  again  when  thine  hour  is  over?'' 
was  his  first  exclamation  ;  and  flourishing  his  sword  aloft,  his 
countenance  assumed  an  expression  in  which  ghastly  terror 
seemed  mingled  with  the  rage  of  a  demoniac. 

"  I  am  come,  Mr.  Balfour,"  said  Morton,  in  a  steady  and 
composed  tone,  "to  renew  an  acquaintance  which  has  been 
broken  off  since  the  fight  of  Bothwell  Bridge." 

As  soon  as  Burley  became  aware  that  Morton  was  before 
him  in  person — an  idea  which  he  caught  with  marvellous  ce- 
lerity— he  at  once  exerted  that  mastership  over  his  heated  and 
enthusiastic  imagination  the  power  of  enforcing  which  was  a 
most  striking  part  of  his  extraordinary  character.  He  sunk 
his  sword-point  at  once,  and  as  he  stole  it  composedly  into 
the  scabbard,  he  muttered  something  of  the  damp  and  cold 
which  sent  an  old  soldier  to  his  fencing  exercise  to  prevent 
his  blood  from  chilling.  Tliis  done,  he  proceeded  in  the 
cold  determined  manner  which  was  peculiar  to  his  ordinary 
discourse. 

"  Thou  hast  tarried  long,  Henry  Morton,  and  hast  not 
come  to  the  vintage  before  the  twelfth  hour  has  struck.  Art 
thou  yet  willing  to  take  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  and  be 
one  with  those  who  look  not  to  thrones  or  dynasties,  but  to  the 
rule  of  Scripture,  for  their  directions  ?  " 

"  I  am  surprised,"  said  Morton,  evading  the  direct  answer 
to  his  question,  "that  you  should  have  known  me  after  so 
many  years." 

"  The  features  of  those  who  ought  to  act  with  me  are  en- 
graved on  my  heart,"  answered  Burley  ;  "and  few  but  Silas 
Morton's  son  durst  have  followed  me  into  this  my  castle  of 
retreat.  Seest  thou  that  drawbridge  of  Nature's  own  con- 
struction ? "  he  added,  pointing  to  the  prostrate  oak-tree  ; 
^'one  spurn  of  my  foot,  and  it  is  overwhelmed  in  the  abyss 
below,  bidding  foemen  on  the  farther  sidest  and  at  defiance, 
and  leaving  enemies  on  this  at  the  mercy  of  one  who  never  yet 
met  his  equal  in  single  fight." 


383  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Of  such  defences/'  said  Morton,  "  I  should  have  thought 
you  would  now  have  had  little  need." 

"  Little  need  ?"  said  Burley,  impatiently.  *'  What  little 
need,   when   incarnate  fiends  are  combined  against  me  on 

earth,  and  Satan  himself But  it  matters  not,"  added  he, 

checking  himself.  *' Enough  that  I  like  my  place  of  refuge 
— my  cave  of  Adullam — and  would  not  change  its  rude  ribs 
of  limestone  rock  for  the  fair  chambers  of  the  castle  of  the 
Earls  of  Torwood,  with  their  broad  bounds  and  barony.  Thou, 
unless  the  foolish  fever-fit  be  over,  mayst  think  differently." 

'^It  was  of  those  very  possessions  I  came  to  speak,^'  said 
Morton  ;  '^  and  I  doubt  not  to  find  Mr.  Balfour  the  same 
rational  and  reflecting  person  which  I  knew  him  to  be  in  times 
when  zeal  disunited  brethren." 

*'  Ay  ?  "  said  Burley  ;  "  indeed  ?  Is  such  truly  your  hope  ? 
wilt  thou  express  it  more  plainly  ?'' 

'^'In  a  word,  then,"  said  Morton,  ^^you  have  exercised,  by 
means  at  which  I  can  guess,  a  secret  but  most  prejudicial  in- 
fluence over  the  fortunes  of  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden  and 
her  granddaughter,  and  in  favor  of  that  base,  oppressive  apos- 
tate, Basil  Olifant,  whom  the  law,  deceived  by  thy  operations, 
has  placed  in  possession  of  their  lawful  property." 

"  Sayest  thou  ? ''  said  Balfour. 

"  I  do  say  so,"  replied  Morton  ;  *' and  face  to  face  you  will 
not  deny  what  you  have  vouched  by  your  handwriting." 

'^  And  suppose  I  deny  it  not  ?"  said  Balfour,  *^'  and  sup- 
pose that  thy  eloquence  were  found  equal  to  persuade  me  to 
retrace  the  steps  I  have  taken  on  matured  resolve,  what  will 
be  thy  meed  ?  Dost  thou  still  hope  to  possess  the  fair-haired 
girl,  with  her  wide  and  rich  inheritance  ?  " 

*'  I  have  no  such  hope,"  answered  Morton,  calmly. 

"  And  for  whom,  then,  hast  thou  ventured  to  do  this  great 
thing,  to  seek  to  rend  the  prey  from  the  valiant,  to  bring  forth 
food  from  the  den  of  the  lion,  and  to  extract  sweetness  from 
the  maw  of  the  devourer  ?  For  whose  sake  hast  thou  under- 
taken to  read  this  riddle,  more  hard  than  Samson's  ?  " 

'*  For  Lord  Evandale's  and  that  of  his  bride,"  replied 
Morton,  firmly.  ''  Think  better  of  mankind,  Mr.  Balfour,  and 
believe  there  are  some  who  are  willing  to  sacrifice  their  happi- 
ness to  that  of  others." 

**  Then,  as  my  soul  liveth,"  replied  Balfour,  "  thou  art,  to 
wear  beard,  and  back  a  horse,  and  draw  a  sword,  the  tamest 
and  most  gall-less  puppet  that  ever  sustained  injury  unavenged. 
What  I  thou  wouldst  help  that  accursed  Evandalis  to  the  arms 
of  the  woman  that  thou  lovest  ?  thou  wouldst  endow  them 


OLD  MORTALITY  88« 

with  wealth  and  with  heritages,  and  thon  think'st  that  there 
lives  another  man,  offended  even  more  deeply  than  thon,  yet 
equally  cold-livered  and  mean-spirited,  crawling  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth,  and  hast  dared  to  suppose  that  one  other  to  be 
John  Balfour?" 

''  For  my  own  feelings,"  said  Morton,  composedly,  "  I 
am  answerable  to  none  but  Heaven.  To  you,  Mr.  Balfour,  I 
should  suppose  it  of  little  consequence  whether  Basil  Olifant 
or  Lord  Evandale  possess  these  estates." 

''  Thou  art  deceived,"  said  Burley  ;  "both  are  indeed  in 
outer  darkness,  and  strangers  to  the  light,  as  he  whose  eyes 
have  never  been  opened  to  the  day.  But  this  Basil  Olifant  is 
a  Nabal,  a  Demas,  a  base  churl,  whose  wealth  and  power  are 
at  the  disposal  of  him  who  can  threaten  to  deprive  him  of 
them.  He  became  a  professor  because  he  was  deprived  of 
these  lands  of  Tillietudlem  ;  he  turned  a  Papist  to  obtain 
possession  of  them ;  he  called  himself  an  Erastian,  that  he 
might  not  again  lose  them  ;  and  he  will  become  what  I  list 
while  I  have  in  my  power  the  document  that  may  deprive  him 
of  them.  These  lands  are  a  bit  between  his  jaws  and  a  hook 
in  his  nostrils,  and  the  rein  and  the  line  are  in  my  hands  to 
guide  them  as  I  think  meet  ;  and  his  they  shall  therefore  be, 
unless  I  had  assurance  of  bestowing  them  on  a  sure  and  sin- 
cere friend.  But  Lord  Evandale  is  a  Malignant,  of  heart  like 
flint  and  brow  like  adamant  ;  the  goods  of  the  world  fall  on 
him  like  leaves  on  the  frost-bound  earth,  and  unmoved  he 
will  see  them  whirled  off  by  the  first  wind.  The  heathen 
virtues  of  such  as  he  are  more  dangerous  tons  than  the  sordid 
cupidity  of  those  who,  governed  by  their  interest,  must  follow 
where  it  leads,  and  who,  therefore,  themselves  the  slaves  of 
avarice,  may  be  compelled  to  work  in  the  vineyard,  were  it 
cut  to  earn  the  wages  of  sin." 

"  This  might  have  been  all  well  some  years  since,"  replied 
Morton  ;  "  and  I  could  understand  your  argument,  although 
I  could  never  acquiesce  in  its  justice.  But  at  this  crisis  it 
seems  useless  to  you  to  persevere  in  keeping  up  an  influence 
which  can  no  longer  be  directed  to  an  useful  purpose.  The 
land  has  peace,  liberty,  and  freedom  of  conscience,  and  what 
would  you  more  ?  " 

"More  !"  exclaimed  Burley,  again  unsheathing  his  sword, 
with  a  vivacity  which  nearly  made  Morton  start.  "  Look  at 
the  notches  upon  that  weapon  ;  they  are  three  in  number, 
are  they  not  ?  " 

"  It  seems  so,"  answered  Morton  ;  "but  what  of  that  ?" 

"The  fragment  of  steel  that  parted  from  this  first  gap 


884  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

rested  on  the  skull  of  the  perjured  traitor  who  first  introduced 
Episcopacy  into  Scotland  ;  this  second  notch  was  made  in  the 
rib-bone  of  an  impious  villain,  the  boldest  and  best  soldier  that 
upheld  the  prelatic  cause  at  Drumclog ;  this  third  was  bro- 
ken on  the  steel  headpiece  of  the  captain  who  defended  the 
Chapel  of  Holyrood  when  the  people  rose  at  the  Revolution. 
I  cleft  him  to  the  teeth  through  steel  and  bone.  It  has  done 
great  deeds  this  little  weapon,  and  each  of  these  blows  was  a 
deliverance  to  the  church.  This  sword,"  he  said,  again  sheath- 
ing it,  "  has  yet  more  to  do — to  weed  out  this  base  and  pesti- 
lential heresy  of  Erastianism,  to  vindicate  the  true  liberty  of 
the  kirk  in  her  purity,  to  restore  the  Covenant  in  its  glory  ; 
then  let  it  moulder  and  rust  beside  the  bones  of  its  master."  * 

*'  You  have  neither  men  nor  means,  Mr.  Balfour,  to  dis- 
turb the  government  as  now  settled,"  argued  Morton  ;  '^  the 
people  are  in  general  satisfied,  excepting  only  the  gentlemen 
of  the  Jacobite  interest ;  and  surely  you  would  not  join  with 
those  who  would  only  use  you  for  their  own  purposes  ?  " 

"  It  is  they,"  answered  Burley,  *Hhat  should  serve  ours. 
I  went  to  the  camp  of  the  Malignant  Claver'se,  as  the  future 
King  of  Israel  sought  the  land  of  the  Philistines  ;  I  arranged 
with  him  a  rising,  and,  but  for  the  villain  Evandale,  the  Eras- 
tians  ere  now  had  been  driven  from  the  west.  I  could  slay 
him,"  he  added,  with  a  vindictive  scowl,  "  were  he  grasping 
the  horns  of  the  altar  ! "  He  then  proceeded  in  a  calmer 
tone  :  *^  If  thou,  son  of  mine  ancient  comrade,  wert  suitor  for 
thyself  to  this  Edith  Bellenden,  and  wert  willing  to  put  thy 
hand  to  the  great  work  with  zeal  equal  to  thy  courage,  think 
not  I  would  prefer  the  friendship  of  Basil  Olifant  to  thine  ; 
thou  shouldst  then  have  the  means  that  this  document  [he 
produced  a  parchment]  affords  to  place  her  in  possession  of 
the  lands  of  her  fathers.  This  have  I  longed  to  say  to  thee 
ever  since  I  saw  thee  fight  the  good  fight  so  strongly  at  the 
fatal  Bridge.     The  maiden  loved  thee  and  thou  her." 

•Morton  replied  firmly,  *'  I  will  not  dissemble  with  you, 
Mr.  Balfour,  even  to  gain  a  good  end.  I  came  in  hopes  to 
persuade  you  to  do  a  deed  of  justice  to  others,  not  to  gain 
any  selfish  end  of  my  own.  I  have  failed.  I  grieve  for  your 
sake  more  than  for  the  loss  which  others  will  sustain  by  your 
injustice." 

**  You  refuse  my  proffer,  then  ?"  said  Burley,  with  kind- 
ling eyes. 

*'  I  do,'*  said  Morton.  '^  Would  you  be  really,  as  you  are 
desirous  to  be  thought,  a  man  of  honor  and  conscience,  you 

•  See  Predictions  of  the  Covenanters.    Note  88. 


OLD  MORTALITY  885 

would,  regardless  of  all  other  considerations,  restore  that 
parchment  to  Lord  Evandale,  to  be  used  for  the  advantage 
of  the  lawful  heir." 

''Sooner  shall  it  perish  \"  said  Balfour  ;  and,  casting  the 
deed  into  the  heap  of  red  charcoal  beside  him,  pressed  it  down 
with  the  heel  of  his  boot. 

While  it  smoked,  shrivelled,  and  crackled  in  the  flames, 
Morton  sprang  forward  to  snatch  it,  and  Burley  catching 
hold  of  him,  a  struggle  ensued.  Both  were  strong  men,  but 
although  Morton  was  much  the  more  active  and  younger  of 
the  two,  yet  Balfour  was  the  most  powerful,  and  effectually 
l^revented  him  from  rescuing  the  deed  until  it  was  fairly  re- 
duced to  a  cinder.  They  then  quitted  hold  of  each  other, 
and  the  enthusiast,  rendered  fiercer  by  the  contest,  glared  on 
Morton  with  an  eye  expressive  of  frantic  revenge. 

*'Thou  hast  my  secret,"  he  exclaimed;  '*  thou  must  be 
mine  or  die  ! " 

"  I  contemn  your  threats,"  said  Morton  ;  *'  I  pity  you, 
and  leave  you." 

But,  as  he  turned  to  retire,  Burley  stepped  before  him, 
pushed  the  oak-trunk  from  its  resting-place,  and,  as  it  fell 
thundering  and  crashing  into  the  abyss  beneath,  drew  his 
sword,  and  cried  out,  with  a  voice  that  rivalled  the  roar  of 
the  cataract  and  the  thunder  of  the  falling  oak — *'Now  thou 
art  at  bay  !  fight,  yield,  or  die  ! "  and  standing  in  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern,  he  flourished  his  naked  sword. 

^'  I  Will  not  fight  with  the  man  that  preserved  my  father's 
life,"  said  Morton  ;  ''  I  have  not  yet  learned  to  say  the  words, 
*  I  yield  ; '  and  my  life  I  will  rescue  as  I  best  can." 

So  speaking,  and  ere  Balfour  was  aware  of  his  purpose, 
he  sprang  past  him,  and,  exerting  that  youthful  agility  of 
which  he  possessed  an  uncommon  share,  leaped  clear  across 
the  fearful  chasm  which  divided  the  mouth  of  the  cave  from 
the  projecting  rock  on  the  opposite  side,  and  stood  there  safe 
and  free  from  his  incensed  enemy.  He  immediately  ascended 
the  ravine,  and,  as  he  turned,  saw  Burley  stand  for  an  instant 
aghast  with  astonishment,  and  then,  with  the  frenzy  of  dis- 
appointed rage,  rush  into  the  interior  of  his  cavern. 

It  was  not  difficult  for  him  to  perceive  that  this  unhappy 
man's  mind  had  been  so  long  agitated  by  desperate  schemes 
and  sudden  disappointments  that  it  had  lost  its  equipoise,  and 
that  there  was  now  in  his  conduct  a  shade  of  lunacy,  not  the 
less  striking  from  the  vigor  and  craft  with  which  he  pursued 
his  wild  designs.  Morton  soon  joined  his  guide,  who  had  been 
terrified  by  the  fall  of  the  oak.     This  he  represented  as  acci- 


886  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dental ;  and  she  assured  him  in  return  that  the  inhabitant  of 
the  cave  would  experience  no  inconvenience  from  it,  being 
always  provided  with  materials  to  construct  another  bridge. 

The  adventures  of  the  morning  were  not  yet  ended.  As 
they  approached  the  hut,  the  little  girl  made  an  exclamation 
of  surprise  at  seeing  her  grandmother  groping  her  way  towards 
them,  at  a  greater  distance  from  her  home  than  she  could  have 
been  supposed  capable  of  travelling. 

"0,  sir,  sir  I''  said  the  old  woman,  when  she  heard  them 
approach,  ''^gin  e'er  ye  loved  Lord  Evandale,  help  now,  or 
never  !  God  be  praised  that  left  my  hearing  when  He  took 
my  poor  eyesight !  Come  this  way — this  way.  And  0  !  tread 
lightly.  Peggy,  hinny,  gang  saddle  the  gentleman's  horse, 
and  lead  him  cannily  ahint  the  thorny  shaw,  and  bide  him 
there." 

She  conducted  him  to  a  small  window,  through  which, 
himself  unobserved,  he  could  see  two  dragoons  seated  at  then 
morning  draught  of  ale,  and  conversing  earnestly  together. 

"  The  more  I  think  of  it,''  said  the  one,  "  the  less  I  like  it, 
Inglis.  Evandale  was  a  good  officer,  and  the  soldier's  friend  ; 
and  though  we  were  punished  for  the  mutiny  at  Tillietudlem, 
yet,  by -,  Frank,  you  must  own  we  deserved  it." 

**  D -a  seize  me,  if  I  forgive  him  for  it,  though  !"  re- 
plied the  other  ;  ^'and  I  think  I  can  sit  in  his  skirts  now." 

'*  Why,  man,  you  should  forget  and  forgive.  Better  take 
the  start  with  him  along  with  the  rest,  and  join  the  ranting 
Highlanders.     We  have  all  eat  King  James's  bread." 

*'  Thou  art  an  ass ;  the  start,  as  you  call  it,  will  never  hap- 
pen ;  the  day's  put  off.  Halliday's  seen  a  ghost,  or  Miss  Bel- 
lenden's  fallen  sick  of  the  pip,  or  some  blasted  nonsense  or 
another ;  the  thing  will  never  keep  two  days  longer,  and  the 
first  bird  that  sings  out  will  get  the  reward." 

"That's  true,  too,"  answered  his  comrade;  "and  will  this 
fellow — this  Basil  Olifant — pay  handsomely  ?" 

"Like  a  prince,  man,"  said  Inglis.  "Evandale  is  the 
man  on  earth  whom  he  hates  worst,  and  he  fears  him,  besides, 
about  some  law  business,  and  were  he  once  rubbed  out  of  the 
way,  all,  he  thinks,  will  be  his  own." 

"  But  shall  we  have  warrants  and  force  enough  ?  "  said  the 
other  fellow.  "  Few  people  here  will  stir  against  my  lord,  and 
we  may  find  him  with  some  of  our  own  fellows  at  his  back." 

"  Thou'rt  a  cowardly  fool,  Dick,"  returned  Inglis  ;  "he  is 
living  quietly  down  at  Fairy  Knowe  to  avoid  suspicion.  Olifant 
is  a  magistrate,  and  will  have  some  of  his  own  people  that  he 
can  trust  along  with  him.     There  are  us  two,  and  the  Laird 


OLD  MORTALITY  387 

says  he  can  get  a  desperate  fighting  Whig  fellow,  called  Quintin 
Mackell,  that  has  an  old  grudge  at  Evandale." 

"  Well,  well,  you  are  my  officer,  yon  know,"  said  the  pri- 
vate, with  true  military  conscience,  ''and  if  anything  is 
wrong " 

''  I'll  take  the  blame,"  said  Inglis.  ''  Come,  another  pot  of 
ale,  and  let  us  to  Tillietndlem.  Here,  blind  Bess  !  why,  where 
the  devil  has  the  old  hag  crept  to  ?  " 

''Delay  them  as  long  as  you  can,"  whispered  Morton,  as 
he  thmst  his  purse  into  the  hostess's  hand  ;  "all  depends  on 
gaining  time." 

Then,  walking  swiftly  to  the  place  where  the  girl  held  his 
horse  ready — "  To  Fairy  Knowe  ?  no  ;  alone  I  could  not  pro- 
tect them.  I  must  instantly  to  Glasgow.  Wittenbold,  the 
commandant  there,  will  readily  give  me  the  support  of  a  troop 
and  procure  me  the  countenance  of  the  civil  power.  I  must 
drop  a  caution  as  I  pass.  Come,  Moorkopf ,"  he  said,  addressing 
his  horse  as  he  mounted  him,  "  this  day  must  try  your  breath 
and  speed." 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

Yet  could  he  not  his  closing  eyes  withdraw, 
Though  less  and  less  of  Emily  he  saw  ; 
So,  speechless  for  a  little  space  he  lay, 
Then  grasp'd  the  hand  he  held,  and  sigh'd  his  soul  away. 

Palamon  and  Ardte. 

The  indisposition  of  Edith  confined  her  to  bed  during  the 
eventful  day  on  which  she  had  received  such  an  unexpected 
shock  from  the  sudden  apparition  of  Morton.  Next  morn- 
ing, however,  she  was  reported  to  be  so  much  better  that 
Lord  Evandale  resumed  his  purpose  of  leaving  Fairy  Knowe. 
At  a  late  hour  in  the  forenoon.  Lady  Emily  entered  the  apart- 
ment of  Edith  with  a  peculiar  gravity  of  manner.  Having 
received  and  paid  the  compliments  of  the  day,  she  observed  it 
would  be  a  sad  one  for  her,  though  it  would  relieve  Miss  Bel- 
lenden  of  an  encumbrance — ^*My  brother  leaves  us  to-day. 
Miss  Bellenden." 

^'  Leaves  us  ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  in  surprise ;  '*  for  his  own 
house,  I  trust  ?  '* 

'^  I  have  reason  to  think  he  meditates  a  more  distant  jour- 
ney," answered  Lady  Emily  ;  "  he  has  little  to  detain  him  in 
this  country.'' 

"  Good  Heaven  ! "  exclaimed  Edith,  "  why  was  I  born  to 
become  the  wreck  of  all  that  is  manly  and  noble  ?  What  can 
be  done  to  stop  him  from  running  headlong  on  ruin  ?  I  will 
come  down  instantly.  Say  that  I  implore  he  will  not  depart 
until  I  speak  with  him." 

"It  will  be  in  vain.  Miss  Bellenden  ;  but  I  will  execute 
your  commission  ; "  and  she  left  the  room  as  formally  as  she 
had  entered  it,  and  informed  her  brother.  Miss  Bellenden  was 
80  much  recovered  as  to  propose  coming  downstairs  ere  he 
went  away. 

"  I  suppose,"  she  added,  pettishly,  "  the  prospect  of  being 
speedily  released  from  our  company  has  wrought  a  cure  on  her 
shattered  nerves." 

'* Sister,"  said  Lord  Evandale,  "you  are  unjust,  if  not 
envious." 

"  Unjust  I  may  be,  Evandale,  but  I  should  not  have 


OLD  MORTALITY  ^ 

dreamt,"  glancing  her  eye  at  a  mirror,  "of  being  thought  en- 
vious without  better  cause.  But  let  us  go  to  the  old  lady  ; 
she  is  making  a  feast  in  the  other  room,  which  might  have 
dined  all  your  troop  when  you  had  one." 

Lord  Evandale  accompanied  her  in  silence  to  the  parlor, 
for  he  knew  it  was  in  vain  to  contend  with  her  prepossessions 
and  offended  pride.  They  found  the  table  covered  with  re- 
freshments, arranged  under  the  careful  inspection  of  Lady 
Margaret. 

"  Ye  could  hardly  weel  be  said  to  breakfast  this  morning, 
my  Lord  Evandale,  and  ye  maun  e^'en  partake  of  a  small  colla- 
tion before  ye  ride,  such  as  this  poor  house,  whose  inmates  are 
so  much  indebted  to  you,  can  provide  in  their  present  circum- 
stances. For  my  ain  part,  I  like  to  see  young  folk  take  some 
refection  before  they  ride  out  upon  their  sports  or  their  affairs, 
and  I  said  as  much  to  his  most  sacred  Majesty  when  he 
breakfasted  at  Tillietudlem  in  the  year  of  grace  1651  ;  and  his 
most  sacred  Majesty  was  pleased  to  reply,  drinking  to  my  health 
at  the  same  time  in  a  flagon  of  Rhenish  wine,  '  Lady  Mar- 
garet, ye  speak  like  a  Highland  oracle.'  These  were  his 
Majesty's  very  words  ;  so  that  your  lordship  may  judge 
whether  I  have  not  good  authority  to  press  young  folk  to  par- 
take of  their  vivers." 

It  may  be  well  supposed  that  much  of  the  good  lady's 
speech  failed  Lord  Evandale'sears,  which  were  then  employed 
in  listening  for  the  light  step  of  Edith.  His  absence  of  mind 
on  this  occasion,  however  natural,  cost  him  very  dear.  While 
Lady  Margaret  was  playing  the  kind  hostess,  a  part  she  de- 
lighted and  excelled  in,  she  was  interrupted  by  John  Gudyill, 
who,  in  the  natural  phrase  for  announcing  an  inferior  to  the 
mistress  of  a  family,  said,  *'  There  was  ane  wanting  to  speak 
to  her  leddyship." 

"  Ane  !  what  ane  ?  Has  he  nae  name  ?  Ye  speak  as  if  I 
kept  a  shop,  and  was  to  come  at  everybody's  whistle." 

"Yes,  he  has  a  name,"  answered  John,  "  but  your  leddy- 
ship  likes  ill  to  hear't." 

"What  is  it,  you  fool  ?" 

"  It's  Calf  Gibbie,  my  leddy,"  said  John,  in  a  tone  rather 
above  the  pitch  of  decorous  respect,  on  which  he  occasionally 
trespassed,  confiding  in  his  merit  as  an  ancient  servant  of  the 
family,  and  a  faithful  follower  of  their  humble  fortunes — "  it's 
Calf  Gibbie,  an  your  leddyship  will  hae't,  that  keeps  Edie 
Henshaw's  kye  down  yonder  at  the  brig  end  ;  that's  him  that 
was  Guse  Gibbie  at  Tillietudlem,  and  gaed  to  the  wappinshaw, 
and  that " 


wo  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''Hold  your  peace,  John/'  said  the  old  lady,  rising  in  dig- 
nity »  "you  are  very  insolent  to  think  I  wad  speak  wi'  a  per- 
son like  that.     Let  him  tell  his  business  to  you  or  Mrs.  Head- 

"  He'll  no  hear  o'  that,  my  leddy  ;  he  says,  them  that  sent 
him  bade  him  gie  the  thing  to  your  leddyship's  ain  hand 
direct,  or  to  Lord  Evandale's,  he  wots  na  whilk.  But,  to  say 
the  truth,  he's  far  frae  fresh,  and  he's  but  an  idiot  an  he 
were." 

"Then  turn  him  out,"  said  Lady  Margaret,  "and  tell 
him  to  come  back  to-morrow  when  he  is  sober.  I  suppose  he 
comes  to  crave  some  benevolence,  as  an  ancient  follower  o'  the 
house." 

"Like  enough,  my  leddy,  for  he's  a'  in  rags,  poor  creat- 
ure." 

Gudyill  made  another  attempt  to  get  at  Gibbie's  commis- 
sion, which  was  indeed  of  the  last  importance,  being  a  few 
lines  from  Morton  to  Lord  Evandale,  acquainting  him  with 
the  danger  in  which  he  stood  from  the  practices  of  Olifant, 
and  exhorting  him  either  to  instant  flight,  or  else  to  come  to 
Glasgow  and  surrender  himself,  where  he  could  assure  him  of 
protection.  This  billet,  hastily  written,  he  intrusted  to  Gib- 
bie,  whom  he  saw  feeding  his  herd  beside  the  bridge,  and 
backed  with  a  couple  of  dollars  his  desire  that  it  might  in- 
stantly be  delivered  into  the  hand  to  which  it  was  addressed. 

But  it  was  decreed  that  Goose  Gibbie's  intermediation, 
whether  as  an  emissary  or  as  a  man-at-arms,  should  be  un- 
fortunate to  the  family  of  Tillietudlem.  He  unluckily  tarried 
so  long  at  the  ale-house,  to  prove  if  his  employer's  coin  was 
good,  that,  when  he  appeared  at  Fairy  Knowe,  the  little  sense 
which  nature  had  given  him  was  effectually  drowned  in  ale 
and  brandy,  and  instead  of  asking  for  Lord  Evandale,  he  de- 
manded to  speak  with  Lady  Margaret,  whose  name  was  more 
familiar  to  his  ear.  Being  refused  admittance  to  her  presence, 
he  staggered  away  with  the  letter  undelivered,  perversely 
faithful  to  Morton's  instructions  in  the  only  point  in  which  it 
would  have  been  well  had  he  departed  from  them. 

A  few  minutes  after  he  was  gone,  Edith  entered  the  apart- 
ment. Lord  Evandale  and  she  met  with  m.utual  embarrass- 
ment, which  Lady  Margaret,  who  only  knew  in  general  that 
their  union  had  been  postponed  by  her  granddaughter's  in- 
disposition, set  down  to  the  bashfulness  of  &  bride  and  bride- 
groom, and,  to  place  them  at  ease,  began  to  talk  to  Lady  Emily 
on  indifferent  topics.  At  this  moment,  Edith,  with  a  counte- 
nance as  pale  as  death,  muttered,  rather  than  whispered,  to 


OLD  MORTALITY  391 

Lord  Evandale  a  request  to  speak  with  him.  He  offered  his 
arm,  and  supported  her  into  the  small  anteroom,  which,  as  we 
have  noticed  before,  opened  from  the  parlor.  He  placed  her 
in  a  chair,  and,  taking  one  himself,  awaited  the  opening  of 
the  conversation. 

"  I  am  distressed,  my  lord,"  were  the  first  words  she  was 
able  to  articulate,  and  those  with  difficulty  ;  "  I  scarce  know 
what  I  would  say,  nor  how  to  speak  it." 

''  If  I  have  any  share  in  occasioning  your  uneasiness,^' 
said  Lord  Evandale,  mildly,  *^  you  will  soon,  Edith,  be  re- 
leased from  it." 

"  You  are  determined,  then,  my  lord/'  she  replied,  ^'  to 
run  this  desperate  course  with  desperate  men,  in  spite  of  your 
own  better  reason,  in  spite  of  your  friends'  entreaties,  in 
spite  of  the  almost  inevitable  ruin  which  yawns  before  you?" 

"Forgive  me.  Miss  Bellenden  ;  even  your  solicitude  on 
my  account  must  not  detain  me  when  my  honor  calls.  My 
horses  stand  ready  saddled,  my  servants  are  prepared,  the 
signal  for  rising  will  be  given  so  soon  as  I  reach  Kilsyth.  If 
it  is  my  fate  that  calls  me,  I  will  not  shun  meeting  it.  It 
will  be  something,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "  to  die  de- 
serving your  compassion,  since  I  cannot  gain  your  love." 

"  0,  my  lord,  remain  !  "  said  Edith,  in  a  tone  which  went 
to  his  heart ;  "  time  may  explain  the  strange  circumstance 
which  has  shocked  me  so  much ;  my  agitated  nerves  may  re- 
cover their  tranquillity.  0,  do  not  rush  on  death  and  ruin  ! 
Remain  to  be  our  prop  and  stay,  and  hope  everything  from 
time." 

"  It  is  too  late,  Edith,"  answered  Lord  Evandale  ;  "  and 
I  were  most  ungenerous  could  I  practice  on  the  warmth  and 
kindliness  of  your  feelings  towards  me.  I  know  you  cannot 
love  me  ;  nervous  distress,  so  strong  as  to  conjure  up  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  dead  or  absent,  indicates  a  predilection  too 
powerful  to  give  way  to  friendship  and  gratitude  alone.  But 
were  it  otherwise,  the  die  is  now  cast." 

As  he  spoke  thus,  Cuddie  burst  into  the  room,  terror  and 
haste  in  his  countenance.  "  0,  my  lord,  hide  yoursell !  they 
hae  beset  the  outlets  o'  the  house,"  was  his  first  exclamation. 

"  They  ?    Who  ?  "  said  Lord  Evandale. 

"A  party  of  horse,  headed  by  Basil  Olifant,"  answered 
Cuddie. 

"  0,  hide  yourself,  my  lord  ! "  echoed  Edith,  in  an  agony 
of  terror. 

*'  I  will  not,  by  Heaven  ! "  answered  Lord  Evandale. 
"  What  right  has  the  villain  to  assail  me,  or  stop  my  passage? 


893  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  will  make  my  way,  were  lie  backed  by  a  regiment ;  tell 
Halliday  and  Hunter  to  get  out  the  horses.  And  now,  fare- 
well, Edith  ! ''  He  clasped  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
tenderly  ;  then,  bursting  from  his  sister,  who,  with  Lady 
Margaret,  endeavored  to  detain  him,  rushed  out  and  mounted 
his  horse. 

All  was  in  confusion :  the  women  shrieked  and  hurried  in 
consternation  to  the  front  windows  of  the  house,  from  which 
they  could  see  a  small  party  of  horsemen,  of  whom  two  only 
seemed  soldiers.  They  were  on  the  open  ground  before  Cud- 
die's  cottage,  at  the  bottom  of  the  descent  from  the  house, 
and  showed  caution  in  approaching  it,  as  if  uncertain  of  the 
strength  within. 

*'  He  may  escape — ^he  may  escape  ! "  said  Edith,  "  0,  would 
he  but  take  the  by-road  I" 

But  Lord  E vandal e,  determined  to  face  a  danger  which  his 
high  spirit  undervalued,  commanded  his  servants  to  follow 
him,  and  rode  composedly  down  the  avenue.  Old  Gudyill  ran 
to  arm  himself,  and  Cuddie  snatched  down  a  gun  which  was 
kept  for  the  protection  of  the  house,  and,  although  on  foot, 
followed  Lord  Evandale.  It  was  in  vain  his  wife,  who  had 
hurried  up  on  the  alarm,  hung  by  his  skirts,  threatening  him 
with  death  by  the  sword  or  halter  for  meddling  with  other 
folks'  matters. 

"Hand  your  peace,  ye  b ,''  said  Cuddie,  ''and  that's 

braid  Scotch,  or  I  wotna  what  is ;  is  it  ither  folks'  matters  to 
see  Lord  Evandale  murdered  before  my  face  ?  "  and  down  the 
avenue  he  marched.  But  considering  on  the  way  that  he 
composed  the  whole  infantry,  as  John  Gudyill  had  not  ap- 
peared, he  took  his  vantage-ground  behind  the  hedge,  ham- 
mered his  flint,  cocked  his  piece,  and,  taking  a  long  aim  at 
Laird  Basil,  as  he  was  called,  stood  prompt  for  action. 

As  soon  as  Lord  Evandale  appeared,  Olifant's  party  spread 
themselves  a  little,  as  if  preparing  to  enclose  him.  Their 
leader  stood  fast,  supported  by  three  men,  two  of  whom  were 
dragoons,  the  third  in  dress  and  appearance  a  countryman, 
all  well  armed.  But  the  strong  figure,  stern  features,  and 
resolved  manner  of  the  third  attendant,  made  him  seem  the 
most  formidable  of  the  party  ;  and  whoever  had  before  seen 
him  could  have  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  Balfour  of  Burley. 

"  Follow  me,"  said  Lord  Evandale  to  his  servants,  *'  and  if 
we  are  forcibly  opposed,  do  as  I  do."    He  advanced  at  a  hand 

fallop  towards  Olifant,  and  was  in  the  act  of  demanding  why 
e  had  thus  beset  the  road,  when  Olifant  called  out,  ''Shoot 
the  traitor  1 "  and  the  whole  four  fired  their  carabines  upon  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  898 

unfortunate  nobleman.  He  reeled  in  the  saddle,  advanced 
his  hand  to  the  holster,  and  drew  a  pistol,  but,  unable  to  dis- 
charge it,  fell  from  his  horse  mortally  wounded..  His  servants 
had  presented  their  carabines.  Hunter  fired  at  random  ;  but 
Halliday,  who  was  an  intrepid  fellow,  took  aim  at  Inglis,  and 
shot  him  dead  on  the  spot.  At  the  same  instant  a  shot  from 
behind  the  hedge  still  more  effectually  avenged  Lord  Evan- 
dale,  for  the  ball  took  place  in  the  very  midst  of  Basil  Olifant's 
forehead,  and  stretched  him  lifeless  on  the  ground.  His  fol- 
lowers, astonished  at  the  execution  done  in  so  short  a  time, 
seemed  rather  disposed  to  stand  inactive,  when  Burley,  whose 
blood  was  up  with  the  contest,  exclaimed,  '^  Down  with  the 
Midianites  ! "  and  attacked  Halliday  sword  in  hand.  At  this 
instant  the  clatter  of  horses^  hoofs  was  heard,  and  a  party  of 
horse,  rapidly  advancing  on  the  road  from  Glasgow,  appeared 
on  the  fatal  field.  They  were  foreign  dragoons,  led  by  the 
Dutch  commandant  Wittenbold,  accompanied  by  Morton  and 
a  civil  magistrate. 

K  hasty  call  to  surrender,  in  the  name  of  God  and  King 
William,  was  obeyed  by  all  except  Burley,  who  turned  his 
horse,  and  attempted  to  escape.  Several  soldiers  pursued  him 
by  command  of  their  officer,  but,  being  well  mounted,  only 
the  two  headmost  seemed  likely  to  gain  on  him.  He  turned 
deliberately  twice,  and  discharging  first  one  of  his  pistols  and 
then  the  other,  rid  himself  of  the  one  pursuer  by  mortally 
wounding  him,  and  of  the  other  by  shooting  his  horse,  and 
then  continued  his  flight  to  Bothwell  Bridge,  where,  for  his 
misfortune,  he  found  the  gates  shut  and  guarded.  Turning 
from  thence,  he  made  for  a  place  where  the  river  seemed  pass- 
able, and  plunged  into  the  stream,  the  bullets  from  the  pistols 
and  carabines  of  his  pursuers  whizzing  around  him.  Two  balls 
took  effect  when  he  was  past  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  he 
felt  himself  dangerously  wounded.  He  reined  his  horse  round 
in  the  midst  of  the  river,  and  returned  towards  the  bank  he 
had  left,  waving  his  hand,  as  if  with  the  purpose  of  intimat- 
ing that  he  surrendered.  The  troopers  ceased  firing  at  him 
accordingly,  and  awaited  his  return,  two  of  them  riding  a 
little  way  into  the  river  to  seize  and  disarm  him.  But  it 
presently  appeared  that  his  purpose  was  revenge,  not  safety. 
As  he  approached  the  two  soldiers,  he  collected  his  remaining 
strength  and  discharged  a  blow  on  the  head  of  one,  w^ich 
tumbled  him  from  his  horse.  The  other  dragoon,  a  strong 
muscular  man,  had  in  the  meanwhile  laid  hands  on  him.  Bur- 
ley, in  requital,  grasped  his  throat,  as  a  dying  tiger  seizes  his 
prey,  and  both,  losing  the  saddle  in  the  struggle,  came  head- 


894  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

long  into  the  river,  and  were  swept  down  the  stream.  Their 
course  might  be  traced  by  the  blood  which  bubbled  up  to  the 
surface.  The^  were  twice  seen  to  rise,  the  Dutchman  striv- 
ing to  swim,  and  Burley  *  clinging  to  him  in  a  manner  that 
showed  his  desire  that  both  should  perish.  Their  corpses  were 
taken  out  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the  river.  As  Bal- 
four's grasp  could  not  have  been  unclinched  without  cut- 
ting off  his  hands,  both  were  thrown  into  a  hasty  grave,  still 
marked  by  a  rude  stone  and  a  ruder  epitaph. f 

While  the  soul  of  this  stern  enthusiast  flitted  to  its  account, 
that  of  the  brave  and  generous  Lord  Evandale  was  also  released. 
Morton  had  flung  himself  from  his  horse  upon  perceiving  his 
situation,  to  render  his  dying  friend  all  the  aid  in  his  power. 
He  knew  him,  for  he  pressed  his  hand,  and,  being  unable  to 
speak,  intimated  by  signs  his  wish  to  be  conveyed  to  the  house. 
This  was  done  with  all  the  care  possible,  and  he  was  soon 
surrounded  by  his  lamenting  friends.  But  the  clamorous 
grief  of  Lady  Emily  was  far  exceeded  in  intensity  by  the 
silent  agony  of  Edith.  Unconscious  even  of  the  presence  of 
Morton,  she  hung  over  the  dying  man ;  nor  was  she  aware 
that  Fate,  who  was  removing  one  faithful  lover,  had  restored 
another  as  if  from  the  grave,  until  Lord  Evandale,  taking 
their  hands  in  his,  pressed  them  both  affectionately,  united 
them  together,  raised  his  face  as  if  to  pray  for  a  blessing  on 
them,  and  sunk  back  and  expired  in  the  next  moment. 

♦  See  John  Balfour  called  Burley.    Note  39. 
t  See  Balfour's  Grave.    Note  40. 


CONCLUSION 

I  HAD  determined  to  waive  the  task  of  a  concluding  chapter, 
leaving  to  the  reader's  imagination  the  arrangements  which 
must  necessarily  take  place  after  Lord  Evandale's  death. 
But  as  I  was  aware  that  precedents  are  wanting  for  a  practice 
which  might  be  found  convenient  both  to  readers  and  com- 
pilers, I  confess  myself  to  have  been  in  a  considerable  dilemma, 
when  fortunately  I  was  honored  with  an  invitation  to  drink 
tea  with  Miss  Martha  Buskbody,  a  young  lady  who  has  carried 
on  the  profession  of  mantua-making  at  Gandercleugh  and  in 
the  neighborhood,  with  great  success,  for  about  forty  years. 
Knowing  her  taste  for  narratives  of  this  description,  I  re- 
quested her  to  look  over  the  loose  sheets  the  morning  before 
I  waited  on  her,  and  enlighten  me  by  the  experience  which 
she  must  have  acquired  in  reading  through  the  whole  stock 
of  three  circulating  libraries  in  Gandercleugh  and  the  two 
next  market-towns.  When,  with  a  palpitating  heart,  I  ap- 
peared before  her  in  the  evening,  I  found  her  much  disposed 
ic  be  complimentary. 

"  I  have  not  been  more  affected,"  said  she,  wiping  the  glasses 
of  her  spectacles,  **  by  any  novel,  excepting  the  Tale  of  Jemmy 
and  Jenny  Jessamy,  which  is  indeed  pathos  itself  ;  but  your 
plan  of  omitting  a  formal  conclusion  will  never  do.  You  may 
be  as  harrowing  to  our  nerves  as  you  will  in  the  course  of  your 
story,  but,  unless  you  had  the  genius  of  the  author  of  Julia  de 
Roubigne,  never  let  the  end  be  altogether  overclouded.  Let 
us  see  a  glimpse  of  sunshine  in  the  last  chapter  ;  it  is  quite 
essential." 

*'  Nothing  would  be  more  easy  for  me,  madam,  than  to 
comply  w"^\  your  injunctions;  for,  in  truth,  the  parties  in 
whom  you  nave  had  the  goodness  to  be  interested  did  live  long 
and  happily,  and  begot  sons  and  daughters." 

"It  is  unnecessary,  sir,"  she  said,  with  a  slight  nod  of 
reprimand,  "  to  be  particular  concerning  their  matrimonial 
comforts.  But  what  is  your  objection  to  let  us  have,  in  a 
general  way,  a  glimpse  of  their  future  felicity  ?  " 

"  Really,  madam,"  said  I,  "  you  must  be  aware  that  every 


896  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

volume  of  a  narrative  turns  less  and  less  interesting  as  the 
author  draws  to  a  conclusion  ;  just  like  your  tea,  which,  though 
excellent  hyson,  is  necessarily  weaker  and  more  insipid  in  the 
last  cup.  Now,  as  I  think  the  one  is  by  no  means  improved 
by  the  luscious  lump  of  half -dissolved  sugar  usually  found  at 
the  bottom  of  it,  so  I  am  of  opinion  that  a  history,  growing 
already  vapid,  is  but  dully  crutched  up  by  a  detail  of  circum- 
stances which  every  reader  must  have  anticipated,  even  though 
the  author  exhaust  on  them  every  flowery  epithet  in  the  lan- 
guage/^ 

''  This  will  not  do,  Mr.  Pattieson,'^  continued  the  lady  ; 
^'  you  have,  as  I  may  say,  basted  up  your  first  story  very  hastily 
and  clumsily  at  the  conclusion  ;  and,  in  my  trade,  I  would 
have  cuffed  the  youngest  apprentice  who  had  put  such  a  horrid 
and  bungled  spot  of  work  out  of  her  hand.  And  if  you  do 
not  redeem  this  gross  error  by  telling  us  all  about  the  mar- 
riage of  Morton  and  Edith,  and  what  became  of  the  other  per- 
sonages of  the  story,  from  Lady  Margaret  down  to  Goose  Gibbie, 
I  apprise  you  that  you  will  not  be  held  to  have  accomplished 
your  task  handsomely. ^^ 

* '  Well,  madam,^'  I  replied,  *'  my  materials  are  so  ample  that 
I  think  I  can  satisfy  your  curiosity,  unless  it  descend  to  very 
minute  circumstances  indeed." 

"  First,  then,"  said  she,  "  for  that  is  most  essential — Did 
Lady  Margaret  get  back  her  fortune  and  her  castle  ?  " 

*'She  did,  madam,  and  in  the  easiest  way  imaginable,  as 
heir,  namely,  to  her  worthy  cousin,  Basil  Olifant,  who  died 
without  a  will ;  and  thus,  by  his  death,  not  only  restored,  but 
even  augmented,  the  fortune  of  her  whom,  during  his  life, 
he  had  pursued  with  the  most  inveterate  malice.  John  Gud- 
yill,  reinstated  in  his  dignity,  was  more  important  than  ever  ; 
and  Cuddie,  with  rapturous  delight,  entered  upon  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  mains  of  Tillietudlem,  and  the  occupation  of  his 
original  cottage.  But,  with  the  shrewd  caution  of  his  charac- 
ter, he  was  never  heard  to  boast  of  having  fired  the  lucky  shot 
which  repossessed  his  lady  and  himself  in  their  original  habita- 
tions. *^  After  a\"he  said  to  Jenny,  who  was  his  only  confi- 
dant, ''  auld  Basil  Olifant  was  my  leddy's  cousin,  and  agraud 
gentleman  ;  and  though  he  was  acting  again  the  law,  as  I  un- 
derstand, for  he  ne'er  showed  ony  warrant,  or  required  Lord 
Evandale  to  surrender,  and  though  I  mind  killing  him  nae 
mair  than  I  wad  do  a  muir-cock,  yet  it's  just  as  weel  to  keep 
a  calm  sough  about  it.''  He  not  only  did  so,  but  ingeniously 
enough  countenanced  a  report  that  old  Gudyill  had  done  the 
deed,  which  was  worth  many  a  gill  of  brandy  to  him  from  the 


OLD  MORTALITY  997 

old  butler,  who,  far  different  in  disposition  from  Cnddie,  was 
much  more  inclined  to  exaggerate  than  suppress  his  exploits 
of  manhood.  The  blind  widow  was  provided  for  in  the  most 
comfortable  manner,  as  well  as  the  little  guide  to  the  Linn  ; 
and " 

*'  But  what  is  all  this  to  the  marriage — the  marriage  of 
the  principal  personages  ? "  interrupted  Miss  Buskbody,  im- 
patiently tapping  her  snuff-box. 

'^  The  marriage  of  Morton  and  Miss  Bellenden  was  delayed 
for  several  months,  as  both  went  into  deep  mourning  on  "ac- 
count of  Lord  Evandale's  death.     They  were  then  wedded.'^ 

"  I  hope,  not  without  Lady  Margaret's  consent,  sir  ?"  said 
my  fair  critic.  "  I  love  books  which  teach  a  proper  deference 
in"  young  persons  to  their  parents.  In  a  novel  the  young 
people  may  fall  in  love  without  their  countenance,  because  it 
is  essential  to  the  necessary  intricacy  of  the  story,  but  they 
must  always  have  the  benefit  of  their  consent  at  last.  Even 
old  Delville  received  Cecilia,  though  the  daughter  of  a  man  of 
low  birth.'' 

'^  And  even  so,  madam,"  replied  I,  "Lady  Margaret  was 
prevailed  on  to  countenance  Morton,  although  the  old  Cove- 
nanter, his  father,  stuck  sorely  with  her  for  some  time.  Edith 
was  her  only  hope,  and  she  wished  to  see  her  happy  ;  Morton, 
or  Melville  Morton,  as  he  was  more  generally  called,  stood  so 
high  in  the  reputation  of  the  world,  and  was  in  every  other 
respect  such  an  eligible  match,  that  she  put  her  prejudice 
aside,,  and  consoled  herself  with  the  recollection  that  *  mar- 
riage went  by  destiny,  as  was  observed  to  her,'  she  said,  *by 
his  most  sacred  Majesty,  Charles  the  Second  of  happy  memory, 
when  she  showed  him  the  portrait  of  her  grandfather  Fergus, 
third  Earl  of  Torwood,  the  handsomest  man  of  his  time,  and 
that  of  Countess  Jane,  his  second  lady,  who  had  a  humpback 
and  only  one  eye.  This  was  his  Majesty's  observation,'  she 
said,  '  on  one  remarkable  morning  when  he  deigned  to  take 
his  disjune '" 

"Nay,"  said  Miss  Buskbody,  again  interrupting  me,  "if 
she  brought  such  authority  to  countenance  her  acquiescing  in 
a  misalliance,  there  was  no  more  to  be  said.  And  what  be- 
came of  old  Mrs.  What's-her-name,  the  housekeeper  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Wilson,  madam  ?"  answered  I.  "  She  was  perhaps 
the  happiest  of  the  party  ;  for  once  a  year,  and  not  oftener, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Melville  Morton  dined  in  the  great  wainscotted 
chamber  in  solemn  state,  the  hangings  being  all  displayed, 
the  carpet  laid  down,  and  the  huge  brass  candlestick  set.  on 
the  table,  stuck  round  with  leaves  of  laurel.     The  preparing 


896  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  room  for  this  yearly  festival  employed  her  mind  for  six 
months  before  it  came  about,  and  the  putting  matters  to  rights 
occupied  old  Alison  the  other  six,  so  that  a  single  day  of  re- 
joicing found  her  business  for  all  the  year  round." 

**  And  Niel  Blane  ?"  said  Miss  Buskbody. 

"  Lived  to  a  good  old  age,  drank  ale  and  brandy  with  guests 
of  all  persuasions,  played  Whig  or  Jacobite  tunes  as  best 
pleased  his  customers,  and  died  worth  as  much  money  as  mar- 
ried Jenny  to  a  cock  laird.  I  hope,  ma'am,  you  have  no  other 
inquiries  to  make,  for  really " 

•*  Goose  Gibbie,  sir  ?  "  said  my  persevering  friend — ''  Goose 
Gibbie,  whose  ministry  was  fraught  with  such  consequences 
to  the  personages  of  the  narrative  ?  " 

*'  Consider,  my  dear  Miss  Buskbody — I  beg  pardon  for  the 
familiarity — but  pray  consider,  even  the  memory  of  the  re- 
nowned Scheherazade,  that  Empress  of  Tale-tellers,  could  not 
preserve  every  circumstance.  I  am  not  quite  positive  as  to 
the  fate  of  Goose  Gibbie,  but  am  inclined  to  think  him  the 
same  with  one  Gilbert  Dudden,  alias  Calf  Gibbie,  who  was 
whipped  through  Hamilton  for  stealing  poultry." 

Miss  Buskbody  now  placed  her  left  foot  on  the  fenderi 
crossed  her  right  leg  over  her  knee,  lay  back  on  the  chair, 
and  looked  towards  the  ceiling.  When  I  observed  hfer  assume 
this  contemplative  mood,  I  concluded  she  was  studying  some 
further  cross-examination,  and  therefore  took  my  hat  and 
wished  her  a  hasty  good-night,  ere  the  Demon  of  Criticism 
had  supplied  her  with  any  more  queries.  In  like  manner, 
gentle  Reader,  returning  you  my  thanks  for  the  patience  which 
has  conducted  you  thus  far,  I  take  the  liberty  to  withdraw 
myself  from  you  for  the  present. 


PERORATION 

It  was  mine  earnest  wish,  most  courteous  Reader,  that  the 
Tales  of  my  Landlord  should  have  reached  thine  hands  in 
one  entire  succession  of  tomes,  or  volumes.  But  as  I  sent 
gome  few  more  manuscript  quires,  containing  the  continua- 
tion of  these  most  pleasing  narratives,  I  was  apprised,  some- 
what unceremoniously,  by  my  publisher,  that  he  did  not  ap- 
prove of  novels,  as  he  injuriously  called  these  real  histories, 
extending  beyond  four  volumes,  and,  if  I  did  not  agree  to 
the  first  four  being  published  separately,  he  threatened  to 
decline  the  article.  (O,  ignorance  !  as  if  the  vernacular 
article  of  our  mother  English  were  capable  of  declension  !) 
Whereupon,  somewhat  moved  by  his  remonstrances,  and 
more  by  heavy  charges  for  print  and  paper  which  he  stated 
to  have  been  already  incurred,  I  have  resolved  that  these 
four  volumes  shall  be  the  heralds  or  avant-couriers  of  the 
Tales  which  are  yet  in  my  possession,  nothing  doubting 
that  they  will  be  eagerly  devoured,  and  the  remainder  anx- 
iously demanded,  by  the  unanimous  voice  of  a  discerning 
public.  I  rest,  esteemed  Reader,  thine  as  thou  shalt  con- 
strue me, 

Jedediah  Glbishbotsam. 

GANDEBCLKuaHy  Noo»  15,  1810. 


>U;t> 


NOTES  TO  OLD  MORTALITY 

NOTE  1.— PETER   PATTIBSON'S  GfRAVB^  P.   2 

Kot©  by  Mr.  JededBah  Oleiehbotiiam.— That  I  kept  my  i/lIght  in  this 
melancholy  matter  with  my  deceased  and  lamented  friond,  appeareth 
from  a  handsome  headstone,  erected  at  my  ^proper  charges  in  this 
spot,  bearing-  the  name  and  calling  of  Peter  Pattieson,  with  the  daite 
of  his  nativity  and  sepulture,  together  also  with  a  tei^timony  of  his 
merits,  attteated  by  myself,  as  his  superior  and  patron,— J.  C. 

NOTB   2.— A   march-dike:  BOUNDARY,    p.    4. 

I  deem  It  fitting  that  the  reader  should  he  apprised  that  this  limi- 
tary boundary  between  the  conterminous  heritable  property  of  his 
honour  the  Laird  of  Gandercleuigh  and  his  honour  the  Laird  of  Guee- 
dub  wae  'to  have  been  in  fashion  an  agger,  or  rather  murus,  of  un- 
cemented  granite,  called  by  the  vulgar  a  *dry-stane  dyke,'  sur- 
mounted or  cope,  cospite,  virddi,  d.  e.  with  a  sod-^turf.  Truly  their 
honours  fell  into  discord  concerning  two  roods  of  marshy  ground, 
neajr  the  cove  called  the  Bedral's  Beild;  and  the  coi.troversy,  having 
some  year*3  bygone  been  removed  from  before  the  judges  of  the  land 
(with  whom  it  abode  long),  even  unto  the  Great  Cily  of  London  and 
the  Assembly  of  the  Nobles  therein,  is.  as  I  may  ssi^y,  adhuc  in  pen- 
dente.-J.  C. 

NOTE  S.— THE  PROPHET'S  CHAiMBER.  p.  8. 

He  might  have  added,  and  for  the  rich  also;  since,  I  laud  my  stars, 
the  groat  of  the  earth  have  also  taken  harbourage  m  my  poo;  Joml 
oile.  And  during  the  service  of  my  handmaiden,  rtorothy,  who  was 
buxom  'and  comely  of  aspect,  his  Honour  the  Laird  of  Smackawa,  in 
his  peregrinations  to  and  from  the  metropolis,  was  wont  to  prefer  my 
Prophet's  Chamber  even  to  the  sanded  chamber  of  dais  in  the  Wal- 
lace Inn.  and  to  bestow  a  mutchkin,  as  he  would  jocosely  say,  to 
obtain  the  freedom  of  the  house,  but,  in  reality,  to  assure  himself  of 
my  company  during  >the  evening-.— J.  C. 

NOTE  4.— FESTIVAL.  OP  THE  POPINJAY,  p.  13. 

TIhe  Festival  of  the  Popinj'ay  is  9ti1<l,  I  t)elieve,  practised  at  May- 
bole,  in  Ayrshire.  The  following  passage  in  the  history  of  the  Somer- 
vllle  family  suggested  the  scenes  in  the  text.  The  author  of  that 
curious  manuscript*  thus  celebrates  his  father's  demeanor  at  such 
an  aseemibly:— 

'Havelng  now  (passed  his  Infancfie,  In  the  tenth  year  of  his  age,  ha 
was  by  his  grandfather  putt  to  the  grammar  scholl.  ther  beln  then 
att  the  toune  of  Delserf  a  very  able  master  that  taught  the  grammar, 
and  fitted  boyes  for  the  oolledge.  Dureing  his  educating  in  this  place 
they  had  then  a  cixstome  every  year  to  solemnize  the  first  Sunday  ol 

*Puolisbed  1>7  Sttr  Walter  Scott  In  1814.    BcU'n.    2  Tolt. 

401 


402  WA  VERLET  NO  VELS 

May  wl'th  dancelng  about  a  Miay-pole,  fyiredmg  of  pHeces,  and  all  man- 
ner of  ravelling  ithen  in  use.  Ther  being-  at  that  tyme  few  or  noe 
merchants  in  thie  pettie  village,  to  furnish  necessaries  for  the  sohol'l- 
ars  sports,  this  youth  resolves  to  furnish  himself  elsewhere,  that  so 
he  may  appear  With  the  'bravest.  In  order  to  this,  by  break  of  day 
he  ryses  and  goes  to  Hamiltoune,  and  there  ibestowes  all  the  money 
■that  for  a  long  tyme  before  he  had  gotten  from  his  friends,  or  had 
otherwayes  ipurohased,  upon  ribbones  of  diverse  coloures,  a  new  hatt 
and  gloves.  But  in  nothing  he  bestowed  his  money  more  liberaliie 
than  upon  gunpowder,  a  great  quantltie  whereof  (he  buyes  for  hds 
oune  use,  and  (to  supply  the  wantes  of  his  comrades;  thus  furnished 
with  these  commodities,  but  ane  empty  purse,  he  returnes  to  Delserf 
be  seven  a  clock  (haveing  travelled  that  Sabbath  mornrlnig  above 
eight  myles),  puttes  on  his  [best]  oloathes  and  new  hatt,  flying  with 
ribbones  of  all  culloures ;  an  this  equipag,  with  hds  little  phizie  (f uzee) 
upon  his  shoulder,  he  marches  to  the  church'-yaird,  where  the  May- 
pole was  sett  up,  and  the  eolemnitie  of  that  day  was  to  be  kept. 
Ther  first  at  the  foot-ball  he  equalled  anyone  that  played;  but  for  han- 
dleing  of  his  piece,  in  chargeing  and  dlschargeing,  he  was  so  ready, 
and  shott  soe  near  the  marke,  that  he  taire  sufrpassed  all  his  fellow 
schollans,  and  became  a  teacher  of  thait  art  to  them  before  the  thret- 
tenth  year  of  his  oune  age.  And  really,  I  have  often  admired  his 
dexterity  in  this,  both  at  the  exercizeing  of  his  souldiers,  and  when 
for  recreatione  I  have  gone  to  the  gunning  with  him  when  I  was  but 
a  stripeling  myself;  for  albeit  that  pessetyme  was  the  exercize  I  de- 
lighted most  in,  yet  could  I  never  attaine  to  any  perfectione  compar- 
able to  him.  This  dayee  sfport  being  over,  he  had  the  app'.ause  of  all 
the  speotiatores,  the  kyndenesse  of  his  fellow-condisciEles,  and  the 
favour  of  the  wholl  inhabitants  of  that  litle  village  [vol.  ii.  p.  144].^ 

•      ...     ■.•.•!  I'"* 
NOTE   5.— SDRGE^ANT   BOTHWELL.    p.    28.  -'O/i 

■■'UJ> 

The  history  of  the  restless  aind  ambitious  Francis  Stewart,  Earl  ot 
Bothweil,  makes  a  considerable  figure  in  the  reign  of  James  VI.  of 
Scotland  and  First  of  England.  After  being  repeatedly  paixloned  foo- 
aots  of  treason,  he  was  at  length  obliged  to  retire  abroad,  where  he 
died  in  great  misery.  Great  part  of  his  forfeited  estate  was  bestowed 
on  Walter  Scott,  first  Lord  of  Bucoleuch,  and  on  the  first  Earl  of 
Roxburghe. 

Francis  Stewart,  son  of  the  forfeited  earl,  obtained  from  the  favour 
of  Charles  I.  a  decredt-arbitral,  appointing  the  two  noblemen,  gran- 
tees of  his  father's  estate,  to  restore  the  same,  or  make  some  compen- 
sation for  retaining  it.  The  barony  of  Crichton,  with  its  beautiful 
castle,  was  surrendered  by  the  cunaors  of  Francis,  Earl  of  Buc- 
cleuch,  but  he  retained  tJhe  far  more  extensive  property  Liddesdale. 
James  Stewart  also,  as  appears  from  writings  in  the  Author's  pos- 
session, made  an  advantageous  composition  with  the  Earl  of  Rox- 
burghe. 'Buti'  says  the  satirical  Scotstarvet,  'male  parta  pejus 
dilabunter;  for  he  never  brooked  them  (enjoyed  them)  nor  was  any- 
thing the  richer,  since  they  accresced  to  his  creditors,  and  now  are 
in  the  possession  of  one  Dr.  Seaton.  Hds  eldest  son  Francis  became 
a  trooper  in  the  late  war;  as  for  the  other  brother,  John,  who  was 
Abbot  of  Coldingham,  he  also  disponed  all  that  estate,  and  now  has 
nothing,  but  lives  on  the  Charity  of  his  friends.'* 

Francis  Stewiart,  who  had  been  a  trooper  during  the  great  Civil 
War,  seems  to  have  received  no  preferment  after  the  Restoration 
suited  to  his  high  birth,  thougfti,  in  fact,  third  cousin  to  Charles  II. 
Captain  Creiehton,  the  friend  of  Dean  Swift,  who  published  his 
MemodTS,  found  him  a  private  gentleman  in  the  King's  Life  Guards. 
At  the  same  time  this  was  no  degraddng  condition;  for  Fountainhall 
records  a  duel  fought  between  a  Life  Ou-ardaman  and  an  officer  In  the 
mlilltia,  because  the  latter  had  taken  upon  him  to  assume  superior 
rank  as  an  officer  to  a  gentleman  private  in  the  Life  Guards.  The  Life 
Guardsm<an  was  killed  in  the  rencontre,  and  his  antagonist  was  exe- 
cuted for  murder. 

The  character  of  BothweH,  except  in  relation  to  the  name.  Is 
entirely  ideal. 

•The  St*ggertn«  State  of  the  Scot*  Statesman  for  On*  Hundred  Tears,  by  Slf  Joha 
Scot  of  Scotstarvet.     BdJnburgh.   1754,   p.    161. 


NOTES  408 

NOTE  6.— AiSSASSINATION  OP  ARCHBISHOP  SHARP,  p.  32 

T5ie  groneral  <ax>oount  ictf  this  act  of  assassiiiation  is  to  be  found  in 
ail  Ihistories  of  (the  period.  A  more  particular  narrative  may  be  found 
In  the  woTHis  of  one  of  the  'actors,  James  Russell,  in  the  Appeaidix  to 
Kirkton's  History  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  published  by  Cluarles 
Kirkpatrick  Shanpe,  Esquire,  4fco,  Edinburgh,  1817. 

NOTE   7.— SHHRIFP-DHPTJTB  CARMICHAEtL,    p.    33. 

One  •Oarmi'chael,  sheriff-depute  im  Fife,  who  'had  been  -ajctive  in 
enforcing-  tihe  i>enai  measures  agiainst  nonconformisits.  He  was  on  the 
moors  hunting,  but  receiving  accidental  information  that  a  party  was 
out  in  quest  of  him,  he  returned  home,  land  escaped  the  fate  designed 
'for  him,  which  befell  his  patrooi  the  Archbu^hop. 

NOTH  8.-^MURDBRERS  OP  AiRCHBISHOP  SHARP,   p.   33 

TThie  leader  of  this  party  was  David  Hiacikston,  of  Rathilet,  a  gen- 
tleman of  ancient  birth  and  good  estate.  He  had  been  profligate  in 
his  yountger  days,  but  having  beeji  led  from  curiosity  to  attend  t/he 
conveticles  of  the  non-conforming  clergy,  he  adopted  their  principles 
in  the  fullest  extent.  It  appears  that  Hackston  had  some  personal 
quarrel  with  Archbishop  Sharp  whidh  induced  him  to  decline  the  com- 
mand Off  the  party  .when  the  slaughter  was  determined  uipon,  feari-ng 
his  acceptance  might  be  asorivied  to  (motives  of  personal  enmity.  He 
felt  'himself  free  in  oanscience,  how^ever,  to  be  present;  and  when  the 
archbishop,  dragged  from  his  carriage,  crawled  towards  him  on  his 
knees  for  protection,  he  replied  coldly,  "Sir,  I  will  never  lay  a  finger 
on  you."  It  is  remarkable  that  Hackston,  as  well  as  a  shepherd  who 
yfSiS  also  present,  but  passive,  on  the  occasion,  were  the  only  two  of 
the  party  of  assassins  who  suffered  death  by  the  hands  of  the  execu- 
tioner. 

On  Hackston  refusing  the  command  it  was  by  universal  suffrage 
conferred  on  John  Balfour  of  Kinloch,  called  Eurley,  who  was  Hack- 
ston's  brother-in-law.  He  is  described  as  "a  little  man,  squint-eyed, 
and  of  a  very  fierce  aspect."  "He  was,"  adds  the  same  author,  "by 
some  reckoned  none  of  the  most  religious;  yet  he  was  aLways  zealous 
and  honest-'hearted,  courageous  in  every  enterprise,  and  a  brave 
soldier,  seldom  any  escaping  that  oame  into  his  hands.  He  was  the 
princ^ipal  aJotor  in  killing  that  arch-traitor  to  tihe  Lord  and  His  Christ, 
James  Sharp."* 

NOTE  9.— OLD  FAMILY  SERVANTS,   p.   41 

A  masculine  retainer  of  this  kind,  having  offended  his  master  ex- 
tremely was  commanded  to  leave  ihis  service  instantly.  "In  troth,  and 
that  will  I  not,"  answered  the  domestic;  "if  your  honour  disna  ken 
when  ye  hae  a  gude  servant,  I  ken  when  I  hae  a  gude  master,  and  go 
away  I  will  not."  On  another  occasion  of  the  same  nature  the  master 
said,  "John,  you  and  I  shall  never  sleep  under  the  same  roof  again"; 
to  which  John  replied,  with  much  naivete,  "Where  tIhe  dell  can  your 
honour  be  ganging?" 

NOTE  10.— MILITARY  MUSIC  AT  NIGHT,   p.   42 

Regi/mental  music  is  never  played  at  night.  "But  wttio  can  asaure 
iw  that  such  was  not  the  custom  in  Charles  the  Second's  time?  Till 
I  am  well  Informed  on  this  point,  the  kettledrums  shall  clash  on,  as 
adding  something  to  the  pdcture«que  effect  of  the  nig(ht  march. 

NOTH  11.— WINNOWING  MAC3HINE,   p.   57 

Probably  something  similar  to  the  barn-fanners  now  used  for  wln- 
nofwing  corn,  w^hich  were  not,  however,  used  in  their  present  shape 

*6ee  Scots  Worthies,  8vo,  Leith,  1816,  p.  532. 


404  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

until  about  IToO.  They  were  objected  to  by  the  more  rigid  sectariea 
on  their  first  introduction  upon  suoh  reasoning-  as  that  of  honest 
Mause  in  the  tex't, 

NOTE  12.— LOCKING  THE  DOOR  DURING  DINNEOEl,  p.  66 

The  custom  of  keeping-  the  door  of  a  house  or  chateau  locked  dur- 
ing the  time  of  dinner  probably  arose  from  the  family  being  anciently 
assembled  in  the  hall  at  that  meal  and  Idable  to  surprise.  But  it  waa 
in  many  instances  continued  as  a  point  of  high  etiqueitte,  of  which  th» 
following  is  an  example: 

A  considerable  landed  proprietor  in  Dumfriesshire,  being  a  bache- 
lor, without  near  relations,  and  determined  to  make  his  will,  resolved 
previously  to  visit  his  two  neare©t  kinsmen  and  decide  which  should 
be  his  heir  aocording  to  the  degree  of  kindness  with  -wthich  he  should 
be  received.  Like  a  good  clansman,  he  first  visited  his  own  chief,  a 
baronet  in  rank,  descendant  and  representative  of  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  Scotland.  Unhappily,  the  dinner  bell  had  rung,  and  the 
door  of  the  castle  had  been  locked  before  his  arrival.  -The  visitor  In 
vain  announced  his  name  and  requested  admittance;  but  his  chief  ad- 
hered to  the  ancient  etiquette  and  would  on  no  account  suffer  the  doors 
to  be  unbarred.  Irritated  at  this  cold  reception,  the  old  Laird  rode  on 
to  Sanquhar  Castle,  then  the  residence  of  the  I>uke  of  Queensberry, 
who  no  sooner  heard  his  name  than,  knowing  well  he  had  a  will  to 
make,  the  drawbridge  dropped  and  the  gaites  flew  open;  the  table  was 
covered  anew;  His  Grace's  bachelor  and  intestate  kinsman  was  re- 
ceived with  the  utmost  attention  and  respect;  and  It  is  scarcely  neces- 
sary to  add  that,  upon  his  death  some  years  after,  the  visitor's  con- 
siderable landed  property  went  to  augment  the  domains  of  the  Ducal 
House  of  Queensiberry.  This  happened  about  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century. 

NOTE  13.— LANDWARD  TOWN,  p.   67 

The  Scots  retain  the  use  of  the  'word  "town"  in  Its  comprehensive 
Saxon  meaning  as  a  place  of  habitation.  A  mansion  or  a  farm-house, 
though  solitary,  is  called  "the  town."  A  "iandiward  town"  is  a  dwell 
Ing  situated  In  the  country. 

NOTE   14.— THROWING    THE   PtPRSH  OVER   THE  GATE,   D.    81 

A  Highland  laird.  Whose  pecullarl'tles  still  live  In  the  recollection 
of  his  countrymen,  used  to  regulate  his  residence  at  Edinburgh  in  the 
following  manner:  Every  day  he  visited  the  Waiter  Gate,  as  It  Is 
called,  of  the  Canongate,  over  which  is  extended  a  wooden  arch.  Spe- 
cie beine  then  the  general  currency,  he  threw  his  purse  over  the  gate, 
and  as  long  as  it  was  heavy  enough  to  be  thrown  over  he  contdnued 
his  round  of  pleasure  in  the  metropolis;  w^hen  It  was  too  light,  he 
thought  it  time  to  retire  to  the  Highlands.  Query— How  often  would 
he  have  repeated  this  experiment  at  Temple  Bar? 

NOTE   15.— WOODEN-   MARB^    P.    82. 

The  punishment  of  riding  the  wooden  mare  was,  in  the  days  of 
Charles  and  long  after,  one  of  the  various  and  cruel  modes  of  en- 
forcing military  discipline.  In  front  of  the  old  guard-house  in  the 
High  Street  of  Edinburg-h  a  large  horse  of  this  kmd  was  placed,  on 
which  now  and  then  in  the  'more  ancient  times  a  veteran  might  be 
seen  mounted,  with  a  firelock  tied  to  each  foot,  atoning  for  some 
small  offense. 

There  is  a  singular  work,  entitled  Memoirs  of  Prince  William 
Henry,  Duke  of  Gloucester  (son  of  Queen  Anne),  from  his  birth  to 
his  ninth  year,  in  which  Jenkin  Lewis,  an  honest  Welshman  In  at- 
tendance on  the  royal  infant's  person,  Is  pleased  to  record  that  bis 
Royal  Highness  laughed,  cried,  crow'd.  and  said  'Gig'  and  'Dy'  very 
like  a  babe  of  plebeian  descent.  He  had  also  a  premature  taste  for 
the  discipline  as  well  as  the  show  of  war,  and  had  a  corps  of  tiwenty- 
two  boys   arrayed   with   paper  caps  and   wooden   sworda.     For   the 


NOTES  405 

maintenance  of  discipline  In  this  juvenile  corps  a  wooden  horse  was 
established  in  the  presence-chamber,  and  was  sometimes  em.ployed 
In  the  punishment  of  offenses  not  strictly  military.  Hughes,  the 
■Duke's  tailor,  having  made  him  a  suit  of  clothes  which  were  too 
tight,  was  appointed,  in  an  order  of  the  day  issued  by  the  young 
prince,  to  be  placed  on  this  penal  steed.  The  man  of  remnants,  by 
dint  of  supplication  and  mediation,  escaped  from  the  penance,  which 
WAS  likely  to  equal  the  inconveniences  of  his  brother  artist's  eques- 
trian trip  to  Brentford.  But  an  attendant  named  Weatherby,  who 
ihad  presumed  to  bring  the  young  prince  a  toy  after  he  had  dis- 
carded the  use  of  them,  was  actually  mounted  on  the  fwooden  'horse 
without  a  saddle,  with  his  face  to  the  tail,  while  he  was  plied  by  four 
servants  of  the  household  with  syringes  and  squirts  till  he  had  a 
thorough  wetting.  "He  was  a  waggish  fellow,"  says  Lenvls,  "and 
would  not  lose  anything  for  the  joke's  sake  when  he  was  putting 
his  tricks  upon  others,  so  he  was  obliged  to  sub-mit  cheerfully  to 
what  was  inflicted  upon  him.  being  at  our  mercy  to  pay  him  off 
well,  which  we  did  accordingly."  Amid  much  such  nonsense.  Lewis's 
book  shows  that  this  poor  child,  the  heir  of  the  British  monarchy. 
Who  died  when  he  was  eleven  years  old,  was.  in  truth,  of  promising 
parts,  and  of  a  good  disposition.  The  volume,  w^hich  rarely  occurs. 
Is  an  octavo,  published  in  1789,  the  editor  being  Dr.  Philip  Hayes, 
of  Oxford. 

NOTE   16.— COIWEALINO   THE  FACE,    P.    91. 

Ooncealment  of  an  Individual  while  In  public  or  promiscuous 
society  was  then  very  common.  In  England,  where  no  plaids  were 
worn,  the  ladies  used  vizard  masks  for  the  same  purpose,  and  the 
gallants  drew  the  skirts  of  their  cloaks  over  the  right  shoulder, 
so  as  cover  part  of  the  face.  This  is  reipeatedly  alluded  to  in 
Pepys's   Diary. 

NOTE  17.— ROMANCES   OP  THE   SBVEINTBENTH  CEn>JTURY.    P.    106. 

As  few  In  the  present  age  are  acquainted  with  the  ponderous 
folios  to  which  the  age  of  Louis  XIV.  gave  rise,  we  need  only  say 
that  they  combine  the  dulness  of  the  metaphysical  courtship  with 
all  the  improbabilities  oif  the  ancient  romance  of  chivalry.  Their 
Character  will  be  most  easily  learned  from  Boileau's  Dramatic  Satire 
or  Mrs.  Lennox's  Female  Quixote. 

NOTE  18.  —SIB  JAMES  TURNER,   P.   106. 

Sir  James  Turner  was  a  soldier  of  fortune,  bred  in  the  civil  wars. 
He  was  intrusted  with  a  commissiou  to  levy  the  fines  imposed  by 
the  privy  council  for  nonconformity  in  the  district  of  Dumfries  and 
Galloway.  In  this  capacity  he  vexed  the  country  so  much  by  his 
exactions  that  the  people  rose  and  made  him  prisoner,  and  then  pro- 
ceeded in  arms  toward  Midlothian,  where  they  were  defeated  at  Pent- 
land  Hills  in  1666.  Besides  his  treatise  on  the  military  art,  Sir  James 
Turner  wrote  several  other  works,  the  most  curious  of  which  is 
his  Memoirs  of  His  Own  Life  and  Times,  which  has  just  been  printed 
under  the  charge  of  the  Bannatyue  Club.  (See  Legend  of  Montrose, 
pp.  143-145.) 

'  NOTE  19.  — TILLIET0DLEM  CASTLE,  P.   106. 

The  Castle  of  Tillietudlem  is  imaginary  ;  but  the  ruins  of  Craignethan 
Castle,  situated  on  the  Nethan,  about  three  miles  from  its  junction  with 
the  Clyde,  have  something  of  the  character  of  the  description  in  the 
text. 

NOTE  20.  —JOHN  GRAHAME  OP  0LAVERHOU8E,  P.   108. 

This  remarltable  person  united  the  seemingly  inconsistent  quali- 
ties   of    courage     and    cruelty,    a     disinterested    and    devoted    loyalty   to 


106  WA  VERLE  Y  NO  VELS 

his  prince  with  a  disregard  of  the  rights  of  "his  fellow-subjects.  He 
was  the  unscrupulous  agent  of  the  Scottish  privy  council  in  exe- 
cuting: the  merciless  severities  of  the  government  in  Scotland  dunng 
the  reigns  of  Charles  11.  and  James  II.;  but  ihe  redeemed  his  char- 
acter by  the  zeal  wi'th  which  he  asserted  the  cause  of  the  latter 
monarch  after  the  Revolution,  the  military  skill  with  which  he 
supported  it  at  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie,  and  by  his  own  death  in 
the  arms   of  victory. 

It  is  said  by  tradition  that  he  wias  very  desirous  to  see,  and  be 
introduced  to,  a  icertain  Lady  Elphinstoun,  who  had  reached  the 
advanced  age  of  one  hundred  years  and  upward.  The  noble  matron, 
being  a  stanch  Whig,  was  rather  unwilling  to  receive  'Claver'se  (■as 
•he  was  called  from  his  title),  but  (at  length  consented.  A1?ter  the 
usual  cotmpliments,  the  officer  observed  to  the  lady  that,  having 
lived  so  imuoh  beyond  the  usual  term  of  humanity,  she  must  in  her 
time  have  seen  many  strange  changes.  "Hout  na,  sir,"  said  Lady 
Elphinstoun,  "the  world  is  just  to  end  with  me  as  it  began.  When 
I  was  entering  life  there  was  ane  Knox  deaving  us  a'  wi'  ihis  clavers. 
and  now  I  am  ganging  out  there  is  ane  Claver'se  deaving  us  «,'  wl' 
his  knocks."  Clavers  signifying,  in  common  parlance,  idle  chat, 
the  double  pun  does  credit  to  the  ingenuity  of  a  lady  of  a  hundred 
years  old. 

NOTE   21.— C»RNET   GRAHA,MB.    P.    153. 

There  was  actually  a  young  cornet  of  the  Life  Goiards  named 
Grabame,  and  probably  some  relation  of  Claverhouse,  slain  in  the 
skirmish  of  Drumclog.  In  the  old  ballad  on  the  "Battle  of  Bothwell 
Bridge,"  Claverhouse  is  said  to  have  continued  the  slaughter  of  the 
fugitives  in  revenge  of  this  gentleman's  death. 

"Haud    up   your   hand,"    then    Monmouth   said; 

"Gie   quarters  to   these    men   for   me"; 
But    bloody   Claver'se    swore   an    oath. 
His   kinsman's   death   avensed   should   be. 

The  body  of  this  young  man  was  found  shockingly  mangled 
after  the  battle,  his  eyes  pulled  out  and  his  features  so  much 
defaced  that  it  was  impossible  to  recognize  him.  The  Tory  writers 
say  that  this  was  done  by  the  Whigs;  because,  finding  the  nam» 
Grahame  wrought  in  the  young  gentleman's  neckcloth,  they  took 
the  corpse  for  that  of  Claver'se  himself.  The  Whig  authorities 
give  a  different  account,  from  tradition,  of  the  cause  of  Cornet  Gra- 
hame's  body  being  thus  mangled.  He  had,  they  say,  refused  his  own 
dog  any  food  on  the  morning  of  the  battle,  affirming  with  an  oath  that 
he  should  have  no  breakfast  but  tapon  -the  flesh  of  the  Whigs.  The 
ravenous  ani.mal,  it  is  said,  flew  at  his  master  as  soon  as  he  fell  and 
lacerated  his  face  and  throat. 

These  two  stories  are  presented  to  the  reader,  leaving  It  to  him 
to  judge  whether  it  is  most  likely  that  a  party  of  persecuted  and  in- 
surgent fanatics  should  mangle  a  body  supposed  to  be  that  of  their 
chief  enemy,  in  the  same  manner  as  several  persons  (present  at 
Drumclog  had  shortly  before  treated  the  person  of  Archbishop 
Sharp,  or  that  a  domestic  dog  should,  for  want  of  a  single  breakfast, 
become  so  ferocious  as  to  feed  on  his  own  master,  selecting  his  body 
from  scores  that  were  lying  around  equally  accessible  to  his  ravcH- 
OTis  appetite. 

NOTE  22.— PROOF  AGAINST  SHOT  GIVEN  BY  SATAN,  p.  1B« 

The  belief  of  the  Covenanters  that  their  principal  enemies,  and 
Claverhouse  in  particular,  had  obtained  from  the  Devii  a  chanu 
which  rendered  them  proof  agains't  leaden  bullets,  led  them  to  per- 
vert even  the  circumstances  of  his  death.  Howie,  of  Lochgoin,  after 
giving  some  account  of  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie,  adds: 

'The  battle  was  very  bloody,  and  by  Mackay's  third  fire  Claver- 
house fell,  of  whom  historians  give  little  account;  but  it  has  been 
said  for  certain  that  his  own  "waiting-servant,  taking  a  resolution  to 
rid  the  world  of  this  truculent  bloody  monster,  and  knowing  he  had 
proof  of  lead,  shot  him  with  a  silver  button  he  had  before  taken  off 
his   own  coat   for   that   purpose.     However,  he   fell,   and    with   him 


NOTES  4ffl 

Popery  and  King  James's  Interest  In  Scotland.*— CJod's  Judgment  on 

Persecutors,  p.  38. 

Original  Note.— 'Perhaps  some  may  think  this  anent  proof  of  ^ot 
a  paradox,  and  be  ready  to  object  here,  as  formerly,  conJcerndng 
Bishop  Sharp  and  Dalziel— '^ow  can  the  Devil  have  or  give  a  power 
to  save  life?"  etc.  Without  entering  upon  the  thing  in  its  reality,  I 
shall  only  observe— 1st,  That  it  is  neither  in  iiis  power  or  of  his 
nature  'to  be  a  savious  of  men's  lives;  he  is  called  Apollyon  the  de- 
stroyer. 2d,  That  even  in  this  case  he  is  said  only  to  give  inchant- 
ment  against  one  kind  of  mettle,  and  this  does  not  save  life;  for  the 
lead  would  not  take  Sharp  and  Claverhouse's  lives,  yet  steel  and 
silver  could  do  it;  and  for  Dalziel,  though  he  died  not  on  the  field, 
fae  did  not  escape  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty.'— Ibidem. 

NOTE  23.— CLAVBRHOUSH'S  CHARGER,  p.  160 

It  appears,  from  the  letter  of  Claverhouse  afterwards  quoted, 
that  the  horse  on  which  he  rode  to  Drumclog  was  not  black,  but 
sorrel.  The  Author  has  been  misled  as  to  the  colour  by  the  many 
extraordinary  traditions  current  in  Scotland  concernmg  Claver- 
house's famous  black  charger,  which  was  generally  believed  to  have 
been  a  gift  to  its  rider  from  the  Author  of  Evil,  who  is  said  to  have 
performed  the  Caesarian  operation  upon  its  dam.  This  iiorse  was  so 
fleet,  and  its  rider  so  expert,  that  they  are  said  to  have  outstripped 
and  'coted,'  or  turned,  a  hare  upon  the  Bran  Law,  near  the  head  of 
Moffat  Water,  where  the  descent  is  so  precipitous  that  no  merely 
earthly  horse  could  keep  its  feet,  or  merely  mortal  rider  could  keep 
the  saddle. 

There  is  a  curious  passage  in  the  testimony  of  John  Dick,  one  of 
the  suffering  Presbyterians,  in  which  the  author,  by  describing  each 
of  the  persecutors  by  their  predominant  qualities  or  passions,  shows 
how  little  their  best-loved  attributes  would  avail  them  in  the  great 
day  of  Judgment.  When  he  introdoices  Claverhouse,  it  is  t6  reproach 
ihim  with  his  passion  for  horses  in  general,  and  for  that  steed  in  par- 
ticular which  was  killed  at  Drumclog  in  the  manner  described  in  the 
text: 

'And  for  that  blood  thirsty  wretch,  Claver-house,  how  thinks  he 
to  shelter  himself  that  day?  Is  it  possible  the  pitiful  thing  can  be  so 
mad  as  to  think  to  secure  himself  by  the  fleetness  of  his  horse  (a 
creature  he  has  so  much  respect  for,  that  he  regarded  more  the  loss 
of  his  horse  at  Drumclog  than  all  the  men  that  fell  there,  and  sure 
on  either  party  there  fell  prettier  men  than  himself)?  No,  sure, 
though  he  could  fall  upon  a  chymist  that  could  extract  the  spirits 
out  of  all  the  horse  in  the  world  and  Infuse  them  into  his  one, 
though  he  were  on  that  horse  back  never  so  well  mounted,  he  need 
not  dream  of  escaping.'— A  Testi-mony  to  the  Doctrine,  Worship,  Dis- 
cipline, and  Government  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  etc..  as  it  was 
left  in  Write  by  that  truly  Pious  and  em^mently  PaithfuU,  and  now 
Glorified  Martyr.  iMr,  John  Dick.  To  which  is  added,  his  Last  Speech 
and  Behaviour  on  the  Scaffold,  on  the  fifth  day  of  March  1684.  which 
Day  he  Sealed  this  Testimony.  58  pp.  4to.  No  year  or  place  of  publi- 
cation. 

The  reader  may  perhaps  receive  some  farther  information  on  the 
subject  of  Cornet  Grahame's  death  and  the  flight  of  Claverhouse 
from  the  following  Latin  lines,  a  part  of  a  poem  entitled  Bellum 
Bothuelliamim.  by  Andrew  Guild,  which  exists  in  manuscript  In  the 
A.dvocates'  Library:— 

Mons  est  occiduus  surgit  qui  celsus  In  oris, 
(Nomine  Loudunum)  fossis  puteisque  profundls 

Quo  scatet  hlc  tellus,   et  aprico  gramine  tectus. 
Hue  collecta  fuit,  numeroso  millte  ciocta, 

Turba  ferox,   matres,   pueri,   Innnptaeque  puellai^ 

Quam  parat  egregia  Graemus  dispersere  tunna. 

Venit  et  prtmo  campo  dlscedere  coglt; 

Post  hos  et  alios,  roeno  provolvit  Inerti; 

At  numerosa  cohors,   campum  di«persa  per 

CSIrcumfusa  ruit;  turmasque,   indaglne  captas, 

Aggreditur;  virtua  non  hie,   nee  profuit  ensis; 

Oorripuere  fugam,   virtdl  sed  gramine  tectls 

Preclpitata  perlt  fossis  pars  ultima,  quorum 

Oomipedea  haesere  luto,  sesjaore  rejecto: 


408  WA  VERLEY  JTO  VELS 

Turn  rabiosa  cohors,   mlsererl  nesola,  «trato« 
Invadit  laceratque  viros:   hie  signifer,  eheu! 
Trajectus  Rlobulo.   Graemua,    quo  fortlor  alter, 
loter  Scotigenas  fuerat,  nee  justior  ullus: 
Hunc  manibus  rapuero  feris,  faciemque  vlrllem 
iPoedarunt,    lingua,   auriculis,   manibusque  reeeotl^ 
Aspera  diffuso  spargentes  saxa  cerebro: 
Vix  dux  ipse  fuga  salvus,    namque  exta  trahebat 
Vulnere  tardatus  sonlpes  generosus  hiante: 
Insequitur  clamore  cohora  fanatica,  namque 
Crudelis  eemper  timidus,   si  vicerlt  unquam. 

MS.  Bellum  Bothuelllantnk 

NOTE  24.— SKPRMISH  AT  D-RUMCLOG,  p.  168 

This  affair,  the  only  one  in  which  Claverhouse  was  defeated  or 
the  insurgent  Cameronians  successful,  was  fought  pretty  much  in 
the  manner  mentioned  m  the  text.  The  Royalists  lost  about  thirty 
or  forty  men.  The  commander  of  the  Presbyterian,  or  rather  Cove- 
nanting, party  was  Mr.  Robert  Hamilton,  of  the  honourable  house 
of  Preston,  brother  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  to  whose  title  and 
estate  he  afterwards  succeeded;  but,  according  to  his  biographer, 
Howie  of  Lochgoin,  he  never  took  possession  of  either,  as  he  could 
not  do  so  without  (acknowledging  the  right  of  King  William  (an  un- 
covenanted  monarch)  to  the  crown.  Hamilton  had  been  bred  by 
Bishop  Burnet,  while  the  latter  lived  at  Glasgow,  his  brother,  Sir 
Thomas,  having  married  a  sister  of  that  historian.  'He  was  then,' 
says  the  Bishop,  'a  lively,  hopeful  young  man;  bait  getting  into  that 
company,  and  into  their  notions,  he  became  a  crack-brained  en- 
thusiast.' „  .  V-  V. 

Several  well-meaning  -persons  have  been  much  scandalised  at  th« 
manner  in  which  the  victors  are  said  to  have  conducted  themselves 
towards  the  prisoners  at  Drumclog.  But  the  principle  of  these  poor 
fanatics  (I  mean  the  high-flying,  or  Cameronian  party)  was  to  ob- 
tain not  merely  toleration  for  their  church,  but  the  same  supremacy 
which  Presbytery  had  acquired  in  Scotland  after  the  treaty  of  Ripon 
betwixt  Charles  I.  and  his  Scottish  subjects  in  1640.  The  fact  is,  that 
they  conceived  themselves  a  chosen  people  sent  forth  to  extirpate 
the  heathen,  like  the  Jews  of  old,  and  under  a  similar  charge  to 
show  no  quarter.  .         .  „ 

The  historian  of  the  Insurrection  of  Bothwell  makes  the  following 
explicit  avowal  of  the  principles  on  which  their  General  acted:— 

'Mr.  Hamilton  discovered  a  great  deal  of  bravery  and  valour,  both 
in  the  conflict  with  and  pursuit  of  the  enemy;  but  when  he  and  soma 
others  were  pursuing  the  enemy,  others  flew  too  greedily  upon  the 
spoil,  small  ae  it  was,  Instead  of  pursuing  the  victory;  and  some,  with- 
out Mr.  Hamilton's  knowledge,  and  directly  contrary  to  his  express 
command,  gave  five  of  these  bloody  enemies  quarters,  and  then  let 
them  go;  this  greatly  grieved  Mr.  Hamilton  when  he  saw  some  of 
Babel's  brats  spared,  after  that  the  Lord  had  delivered  them  into  the^r 
hande,  that  they  might  dash  them  against  the  stores — PsaJm  cxxxvii. 
9.  In  his  own  account  of  this  he  reckons  the  sparing-  of  these  eneanie*. 
and  letting  them  go,  to  be  among  their  first  stepping  aside,  for  which 
ihe  feared  that  the  Lord  would  not  honour  them  to  do  much  more  for 
Him;  and  says  that  he  was  neither  for  taking  favours  from, 
nor  giving  favours  to,  the  Lord's  enemies.' — Se©  A  True  and  Impartial 
Account  [Relation]  of  the  Persecuted  Presbyterians  in  Scotland,  their 
being  [rising]  in  arms,  and  Defeat  at  BothiweM  Brlgg  In  1679,  by  Will- 
lam  VVilson,  late  Schoolmaster  In  the  Parish  of  Douglas.  The  reader 
who  would  authenticate  the  quotation,  musit  not  consult  any  other 
edition  than  that  of  1697  [or  that  of  18091;  for  somehow  or  other  the 
publisher  of  the  last  edition  [1825]  has  omitted  this  remarkable  part 
of  the  narrative. 

Sir  Robert  Hamilton  himself  felt  neither  remorse  nor  shame  for 
having  put  to  death  one  of  the  prisoners  after  the  battle  with  his  own 
hand,  which  appears  to  have  been  a,  charge  against  him  by  aome 
wthose  fanaticism  was  less  exalted  than  his  own — 

'As  for  that  accusation  they  bring  against  me  of  klllln*  that  poor 
man  (as  they  call  him)  at  Drumclog,  I  may  easily  guess  that  my  ac- 
cusers can  be  other  but  some  of  the  houee  of  Saul  or  Shlmel.  or  8om« 
Bucn  risen  again  to  espouse  that  poor  gentleman'B  (Saul)  hia  quarrsl 


NOTES  409 

a&alnBt  honest  Samuei,  for  liia  offering  to  kill  that  poor  man  Agag. 
after  the  king's  giving  him  quarters.  But  I,  being  to  command  that 
day,  gave  out  'the  word  that  no  quarter  should  he  g.ven;  and  returning 
from  pursuing  Claverhouse,  one  or  two  of  these  fellows  were  standing 
in  the  midst  of  a  company  of  our  friends,  and  some  were  debating  for 
quarters,  others  against  it.  None  could  blame  me  to  decide  the  contro- 
versy, and  I  bless  the  Lord  for  it  to  this  day.  There  were  five  more 
that  without  my  knowledge  got  quarters,  who  were  brought  to  me 
after  'we  were  a  mile  from  the  place  as  having  got  quarters,  which  I 
reckoned  among  the  first  stoppings  aside:  and  seeing  that  spirit 
amongst  us  at  that  time,  I  then  told  it  to  some  that  -were  (with  me  (to 
my  best  remembrance,  it  wae  honest  old  John  Nisbet),  that  I  feared 
the  Lord  would  not  honour  us  to  do  much  for  Him.  I  shall  only  say 
this,  I  desire  to  bless  His  holy  name,  that  ever  since  He  helped  me  to 
set  my  face  to  His  work,  I  never  had,  nor  would  take,  a  favour  from 
enemies,  either  on  right  or  left  hand,  and  desired  to  give  as  lew' 
ft).  201]. 

The  preceding  passage  is  extraxited  from  a  long  vindication  of  his 
own  'conduct,  sent  by  Sir  Robert  Hamilton,  7th  December  1685,  ad- 
dressed to  the  antl-PopIsh,  anti-Prelatic,  anti-Erastian,  antl-iSectarian 
true  Presbyterian  remnant  of  the  Church  of  Scotland';  and  the  suh- 
stance  is  to  be  found  in  the  work  or  collection  called  Faithful  Con- 
tend-ings  Displayed,  collected  and  transorlibed  by  John  Howie. 

As  the  skirmish  of  Drumclog  has  been  of  late  the  subject  of  some 
inquiry,  the  reader  may  be  curious  'to  see  Claverhouse's  own  account 
of  the  affair,  in  a  leter  to  the  Earl  of  Linlithgow,  wnitten  immediiately 
after  the  action.  This  gazette,  as  it  may  be  called,  occurs  in  the  vol- 
ume called  Dundee's  Letters,  printed  'by  Mr.  Smythe  of  Methven,  as  a 
contribution  to  the  Bannatyne  Club.  The  original  is  in  tihe  library  of 
the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Claverhouse,  it  may  be  observed,  spells  1-ke 
a  chambermaid. 


•FOR  THE  EARL  OF  LINLITHGOW 

tOOMMANDEfR-IN-OHIEIF  OP  KING  OHARLBS  II. '3  FOROES  IN  SCOTLAND] 

'Glaskow,  Jun.  the  1,  1679. 

•MY  LORD,— Upon  Saturday's  night,  when  my  Lord  Rosse  came  In 
to  this  place,  I  marched  out,  and  because  of  the  Insolency  that  had 
been  done  tue  nights  before  at  Rugien,  I  went  thither  and  Inquyred  for 
the  najnes.  So  soon  as  I  got  them,  I  sent  out  partys  to  sease  on  them, 
and  found  not  only  three  of  those  rogues,  but  also  ajie  intercomend 
minister  called  King.  We  had  them  at  Streven  about  six  in  the  morn- 
ing yesterday,  and  resolving  to  convey  them  to  this,  I  thought  that 
we  might  mak  a  little  tour  to  see  if  we  could  fall  upon  a  conventicle; 
which  we  did,  litle  to  our  advantage;  for  when  we  caime  in  sight  of 
them,  we  found  them  drawen  up  in  baitell,  upon  a  most  adventagious 
ground,  to  which  there  was  no  coming  but  throgh  moses  and  lakes. 
They  wer  not  preaching,  and  had  gat  away  all  there  -women  and 
shildrlng.  They  consisted  of  four  bataillons  of  foot,  and  all  well 
armed  with  fusils  and  pitdh  forks,  and  three  squadrons  of  horse.  We 
sent  both  partys  to  skirmish,  they  of  foot  and  we  of  dragoons;  they 
run  for  it,  and  sent  down  a  batalilon  of  foot  against  them;  «we  sent 
threescor  of  dragoons,  who  mad  them  run  again  shamfully;  but  in  end 
they  ipercaiving  that  we  had  the  better  of  them  in  skirmish,  they  re- 
Bolved  a.  generall  engadgment,  and  imediatly  advanced  with  there  foot, 
the  horse  folouing;  they  came  throght  the  lotohe,  and  the  greatest 
body  of  all  made  up  against  my  troupe;  we  keeped  our  fyr  till  they 
wer  within  ten  pace  of  us:  they  received  our  fyr,  and  advanced  to 
shok;  the  first  they  gave  us  broght  doun  the  Coronet  Mr.  Crafford 
■and  Captain  Bleith,  besides  that  with  a.  pitch  fork  they  mad  such  an 
opening  in  my  sorre  horses  belly,  that  his  guts  hung  out  half  an  elle, 
?ind  yet  he  caryed  me  af  an  myl;  which  so  discoroged  our  men,  that 
they  sustined  not  the  shok,  'but  fell  into  disorder.  There  horse  took 
the  occaiSion  of  this,  and  purseud  us  so  hotly  thait  we  got  no  tym  to 
rayly.  I  saved  the  standarts,  but  lost  on  the  place  about  aight  or  <ten 
men.  besides  wounded;  but  the  dragoons  lost  many  mor.  They  ar  not 
com  easrlly  af  on  the  other  side,  for  I  sawe  severall  of  them  fall  befor 
we  cam  to  the  shok.     I  mad  the  best  retraite  the  confusion  of  our 


410  ^A  YERLEY  NO  VELS 

people  would  suffer,  and  I  am  now  laying  with  my  Lord  Ross.  The 
tx>un  of  Streven  dirou  up  as  we  was  making  our  reirait,  anu  thoght  of 
a,  pass  to  cut  us  of,  but  we  took  couradge  and  fell  to  them,  made  them 
run,  leaving  a  dousain  on  the  place.  What  these  rogues  will  dou  yet 
I  know  not,  .but  the  con  try  was  floking  to  theon  from  all  hands.  This 
mtay  be  counted  the  begining  of  the  rebellion,  in  my  opinion. 
*I  am,  my  lord, 

•Your  lordships  most  humble  servant, 

•J.  GRAHAME. 

'My  lord,  I  am  so  wearied,  and  so  sleapy,  that  I  have  wryton  this 
very  confusedly.' 

NOTE)  25.— DISSBVSIONS  AMONG  THE  COVENANTERS,    p.    238 

These  feuds,  which  tore  to  pieces  the  little  army  of  Insurgents, 
turned  mainly  on  the  point  whether  the  king's  interest  or  royal 
authority  was  to  be  owned  or  not,  and  whether  the  party  in  arms 
were  to  be  contented  with  a  tree  exercise  of  their  own  religion,  or  in- 
sist upon  the  re-establis-hment  of  Presbytery  m  its  supreme  authority, 
and  wiith  full  power  to  predominate  over  all  other  forms  of  worship! 
The  few  country  gentlemen  who  joined  the  insurrection,  with  the  most 
sensible  part  of  the  clergy,  thought  it  best  to  limit  their  demands  to 
what  it  might  be  possible  to  attain.  But  the  party  who  urged  these 
moderate  views  were  termed  by  the  more  zeaJous  bigots  the  Erastian 
party,  men,  namely,  who  were  wiLlin'g  to  place  the  church  under  the 
influence  of  the  civil  government,  and  therefore  they  accounted  them 
'a  snare  upon  Mizpah,  and  a  net  spread  upon  Tabor.*  See  the  'Life  of 
©ir  Roibert  Hamilton'  in  the  Soots  Worthies,  and  his  account  of  thr 
Battle  of  Bothwell  Bridge,  Passim. 

NOTE  26.— THE  CAMERONIANS'  GIBBET,  p.  245 

The  Cameroniana  had  suffered  persecution,  but  It  was  without 
learning  mercy.  We  are  informed  by  Captain  CTlahton  that  they  had 
set  up  in  their  camp  a  huge  gibbet,  or  gallows,  having  many  hooks 
upon  it,  with  a  coil  of  new  ropes  lying  beside  it,  for  the  execution  of 
sudh  Royalists  as  they  might  make  prisoners.  Guild,  in  his  Bellum 
Bothuellianum,  describes  this  machine  particularly. 

NOIIE  27.— ROYALi  ARMY  AT  BOTHWBILi.  BRIDGE,  p.  264 

A  Cameronian  muso  was  awakened  from  slumiber  on  this  doleful 
occasion,  and  gave  the  following  account  of  the  muster  of  the  royai 
forces,  in  i>oetiry  nearly  as  melancholy  as  the  subject;— 

lliey  marched  east  throw  Zatthgow-towa 

For  to  enlarge  their  forces; 
And  sent  for  all  the  north  country 
To  coQie,  both  foot  and  faorses^ 

MontroB©  did  come  and  Athole  both. 

And  with  them  many  more; 
And  all  the  Highland  Amorltes 

That  had  been  there  before. 

Tbe  Lowdien  malllsha  they 

Came  with  ttoeir  coats  of  blew; 
Fire  hundred  men  from  London 

Clald  in  a  reddish  hue. 

When  they' were  assembled  one  and 

A  full  bragade  were  they; 
Like  to  a  pack  of  hellish  hounds; 

fioreing  after  their  prey. 

When  they  were  all  provided  well. 

In  arniour  and  amonltlon. 
Then  thither  wester  did  thear 

Ifest  cruel  of  InteaUoo. 


KOTES  41V 

The  Royalists  celebrated  their  victoay  !n  strains  of  equal  merit. 
Specimens  of  both  may  be  found  in  the  curious  coiiection  of  Fug-itiva 
Scottish  Poetry,  pnincipially  of  the  Seventeenth  Century,  printed  for 
the  Messrs.  Lain^r.  Edinburgh  tl825-53J. 

NOTE  28.— MODERATEJ  PRBSBYTEJRIANS,  p.  269 

The  Author  does  not  'by  "any  aneans  desire  tha>t  Poundtext  Bhould 
be  regarded  as  a  just  re»presentative  <of  the  moderate  Presbyteriajis, 
among  whom  were  many  mioaasters  whose  oouirage  was  equal  to  their 
goad  sense  and  sound  views  of  religion.  Were  he  to  -write  the  tale 
anew,  ihe  would  iprobably  endeavour  to  give  ithe  character  a  hig'her 
turn.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  Cameronians  imputed  to  their 
opponents  in  opinion  concerning  the  Indulgence,  or  others  of  their 
strained  -and  fanatical  notions,  a,  disposition  not  only  to  seek  their 
own  safety,  but  to  enjoy  themselves.  Haimilbon  speaks  of  three  der- 
gymen.  of  this  description  as  follows:— 

'They  ipretended  great  zeal  against  the  Indulgence;  but,  alas!  that 
•was  all,  their  practice  otherwise  being-  but  very  gross,  which  I  sihaJl 
buit  hint  at  in  short.  When  (great  Cameron  and  those  with  bim  were 
taking  -many  a  cold  blast  and,  storm  In  'the  fields  and  among  the  oot- 
houses  ioi  Scotland,  these  tbree  had,  for  tbe  most  part,  their  residenKie 
in  Glasgow,  where  they  found  good  quarters  and  a  full  table  (wbich 
I  doubt  not  but  some  bestowed  upon  them  from  real  affection  to  the 
Lord's  cause);  and  when  these  tbree  -were  together,  fheir  greatest 
work  was  who  sihould  make  the  finest  «and  shiarpest  roundels,  and 
break  the  quickest  jests  upon  one  another,  and  to  tell  -what  valiant 
aots  they  were  to  do,  and  who  could  laugh  loudest  and  imost  'heartily 
among  them;  and  When  at  a/ny  time  they  oame  out  to  the  country, 
whatever  other  fhing  they  biad,  they  /were  careful  each  of  them  to 
have  a  great  flask  of  brandy  with  ithem,  which  was  very  iheavy  to 
some,  particularly  to  Mr.  Cameron/ Mr.  Oargill.  and  Henjry  Hall;  J. 
shall  naone  no  ^^ore.'-^F^aithful  Oontendings,  p.  198. 

NOTE  29.— GDNERAl,  DAl-ZETLI^    USUAILLY  CALLED  TOM  DALZELL,  p.   JT4 

In  Creichton's  Memoirs,  edited  by  Swift,  where  a  particular  ac- 
count of  this  remarkayble  person's  dTess  and  habits  is  given,  he  is  said 
never  to  have  worn  boots.  The  following  account  of  his  rencounter 
with  John  Baton  of  Meadowhead  showed  that  In  action  a;t  least  he 
wore  pretty  stout  ones,  unless  the  reader  be  dnolined  'to  believe  In  tbe 
truth  of  his  having  a  charm  whicfh  made  him  proof  against  lead. 

•I>alziel,*  says  Paton's  biographer,  'advanced  the  whole  left  wing* 
of  his  army  on  Colonel  Wallace's  rig-ht.  Here  Ca-ptain  Paton  behaved 
with  great  courage  and  gallantry.  Dalzell,  knowing  him  In  the  former 
wars,  advanced  upon  him  himself,  thlniking  ho  take  him  prisoner. 
Upon  his  approaob  each  presented  their  pistols.  Upon  their  first  dis- 
charge. Captain  Paton,  perceiving  the  pistol  baJl  to  hoop  down  upon 
I>alziel's  boots,  and  kniowing  whiat  was  the  cause  (he  having  fprootf), 
put  his  hand  to  his  pocket  for  some  small  pieces  of  silver  he  had 
there  for  fhe  purpose,  and  put  oni©  of  them  Into  his  other  pistol.  (But 
Dalziel.  having  his  eye  on  him  in  the  meanwhile,  retired  behind  his 
own  man,  who  by  that  tneajos  was  slahi*  DSoots  Worthiee,  l*.  <15,  O09> 
densed  somewhat]. 

VOTB  S0.<— LOCH  SLOT,  %  287 

This  was  the  slogan  or  -war-cry  of  tihe  (MaoParlanes,  taken  froon  « 
lake  near  the  head  of  Loch  Lomond,  in  the  centre  of  their  ajictont 
possession  of  the  w>estem  banks,  of  that  beautiful  Inland  eea. 

NOTBJ  SI.— MORTON'S  CAPTDRD  AND  RBLBASai  p.  Stt 

The  principal  Incident  of  the  dtofr^olng-  chapter  wa«  suflBeoted  by 
an  occurrence  of  a  similar  kind,  told  me  by  a  g-entlMnan,  now  de- 
ceased, who  held  an  im,portant  situation  In  itflie  Excise,  to  which  be 
bad  been  raised  by  active  and  resolutte  exertiom  Hz.  jta  Interior  dd* 


412  WA  VERLEY  UO  VEL3 

partment.  When  employed  as  a  supervisor  -on  the  coast  of  GaHowiay» 
at  a  time  when  the  ammunities  of  the  Isle  of  Man  rendered  smug- 
gling almost  universal  rn  that  district,  this  gentleman  had  the  far- 
tune  to  offend  highly  several  of  the  leaders  in  the  contraband  trade, 
iby  talis  zeal  ta  serving  the  revenue. 

This  rendered  his  siitixation  a  dangerous  one,  and,  on  more  than 
one  occasion,  placed  his  life  In  jeopardy.  At  one  time  in  particular, 
as  hie  was  riding  after  sunset  on  a  summer  evening,  he  came  sud- 
derily  upon  a  gang  of  the  most  desperate  smugglers  in  that  part  of 
the  country.  They  Burrouinded  -him  without  violence,  but  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  show  that  it  would  be  resorted  to  if  he  offered  resist- 
ance, and  gave  hian  to  understand  he  must  spend  th'e  evening  with 
them,  since  they  ihad  met  so  happWy.  The  officer  did  not  ajtteanipt 
opposition,  but  only  asked  leave  to  send  a  country  lad  to  tell  his  wife 
and  fiamily  that  ho  should  be  detairaed  later  than  he  expected.  As 
he  ihad  to  charge  the  boy  with  this  message  in  the  presence  of  the 
smugglers,  he  could  found  no  hope  of  deliverance  from  it,  savewliat 
might  arise  from  the  sharpness  of  the  lad's  observation  and  the 
natural  anxiety  and  lafCecition  of  his  wife.  'But  if  his  errand  should 
be  delivered  and  received  literally,  as  the  'was  oooisciious  the  smug- 
glers expected,  it  was  likely  that  it  mdigTit,  by  suspending  alarm  about 
•his  absence  from  home,  postpone  all  search  after  'him  till  it  might  be 
useless.  (Making  «.  imerlt  of  neoessity,  therefore,  (he  instructed  and 
despatched  his  messenger,  and  went  with  the  contraband  tiraders, 
with  seeming  willingness,  to  one  of  their  ordinary  Ihaunts.  He  sat 
down  at  t^ble  witb  them,  and  they  began  to  drink  and  indulge  tbem- 
selves  In  gross  jokes,  while,  like„  Mirabel  In  the  Inconstant,  their 
prisoner  ihad  the  heavy  task  ot  receiving  their  insolence  as  wit, 
answering  their  insudts  witlh  good  humour,  and  withholding  from 
them  the  opportunity  wbich  they  sougbt  of  engaging  him  in  a  quar- 
rel, that  they  mig<ht  'have  a  pretense  for  misus'ing  him.  He  su'cceeded 
for  some  time,  but  soon  became  satisfied  It  was  their  purpose  to  mur- 
der Ihim  outright,  or  else  to  beat  hinn  in  s-uoh  a  ma^nner  as  scarce  to 
leave  him  with  life.  A  regard  for  the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath  evening, 
whicli  still  oddly  subsisted  among  fhese  ferocious  men,  amidsit  their 
habitual  vtolat'iion  of  divine  omd  social  law,  prevented  their  com- 
mencing their  Intended  cruelty  until  the  Sabbath  elhould  be  ter- 
minated. Th'ey  were  sitting  around  their  amxions  prisoner,  muttering 
to  each  other  words  of  terrible  import,  land  watchiTig  the  index  of  a 
"Clock,  which  was  shortly  to  strike  the  hour  at  wlhich,  In  their  appre- 
hensiion,  moirder  would  become  lawful,  when  their  intended  victim 
h-eard  a  distant  rustling  like  the  wind  among  withered  leaves.  It 
came  nearer,  oind  resembled  the  sound  of  a  brook  in  flood  chafing 
■within  Ms  banks;  it  came  nearer  yet,  and  rwas  plainly  d:stin.guishea 
as  the  galloping  of  a  party  of  horse.  The  absence  of  her  husband, 
and  the  "account  given  by  the  -boy    'of  the  suspicious  appearance  of 

those  with  whom  he  had  remained,  had  induced  Mrs.  to  apply  to 

the  neighbouring  town  for  a  party  of  dragoons,  who  thus  providen- 
tially arrived  in  time  to  save  (him  from  extreme  violence,  if  not  from 
actual  destruction. 

NOTE  S2.-PRIISONEIRS*  PROCESSION,  p.  SIO 

David  Hackston  of  RatTiillet,  who  was  wounded  and  made  pris- 
oner in  tihe  skirmish  of  Air's  (Moss,  In  whicfh  the  celebrated  Cameron 
fell,  was,  on  entering  Edinburgh,  'by  order  of  the  Council,  received 
by  the  magistrates  at  the  Water  Gate,  and  set  on  a  hiorse's  bare  back 
with  his  face  to  the  tail,  and  the  other  three  laid  on  a.  goad  of  iron, 
and  carried  up  the  street,  Mr.  Cameron's  Ihond  'belngr  on  a  halberd 
before  them.* 

NOTE  83.— tDALZEaL.L'S  HRITTAMTT,  p.  S14 

The  General  Is  said  to  have  struick  on©  of  the  captive  Whigs 
when  tinder  examination,  with  the  hilt  of  his  sabre,  so  that  the 
blood  gushed  out.  The  provocation  fior  this  unimanly  violence  was, 
that  the  prisoner  had  cali-ed  the  fierce  veteran  ^a  Muscovy  beast,  who 
used  to  roast  men.*  I>alzell  Ihad  been  Jong  in  th-e  Russian  service 
wimcn  in  those  days  was  no  ^ehool  of  humanity. 


N0TE6  4M 

KOTB  84.— HEIAI>S  0!P  THE  EXBCSITTED,  p.  818 

The  pleasure  of  the  Councdl  reei^ectine  tii«  redics  of  their  victims 
was  often  as  savage  aa  tho  rest  of  theda:  coaiduot.  The  heiads  of  the 
preachers  were  frequently  ex-posed  on  piltes  between  tiheir  tiwo  hands, 
the  palmB  displayed  as  In  the  attitude  of  prayer.  When  the  cele- 
l>ra;ted  Riohtard  Oameron's  'head  wias  exposed  in  this  manner,  a  spec- 
tator bore  tescimoaiy  to  ift  as  th^  of  one  who  lived  prayingr  and 
preaching,  and  died  praying  and  fighting. 

NOTE  35.-SUPPOSED  APPARITION  OP  MORTOiN,  p.  345 

This  inicident  Is  -taken  from  a  story  In  the  History  of  Apparitions 
written  by  Daniel  iDefoe,  under  (the  assumed  name  of  Morton.  To 
abridge  tihe  narrative,  we  are  under  the  (necessity  of  omitting  many 
of  these  partioular  circuanstances  wihich  gave  the  fictions  of  this 
most  ingenioiis  author  such  a  lively  air  of  truth. 

A  gentleman  married'  a  lady  of  fajmily  and  fortuTie,  and  had  one 
son  by  her,  after  which  the  lady  died.  The  widower  afterwards 
united  himself  in  a  second  marriage;  and  his  wi-fe  proved  such  a 
very  stepmother  to  the  heir  of  the  first  marriage  thait,  disconitented 
with  his  situation,  he  left  tois  father's  house  and  set  ou/t  on  distant 
travels.  His  father  heard  from  him  oocasionial'ly,  and  -the  young  majn 
for  some  time  drew  regularly  for  certain  allowances  which  were 
settled  uix>n  him.  At  lengtth,  owing  to  the  Instigation  of  his  mother- 
in-law,  one  of  his  draughts  was  refused,  and  the  bill  returned  dis- 
honoured. 

After  receiving  this  affront,  tihe  youtli  drew  no  bills  and  wrote 
no  nvore  letters,  nor  did  his  father  'know  In  what  part  of  the  world 
he  was.  The  stepmother  seized  the  oixportunity  to  represent  the 
young  man  as  deceased,  and  to  urge  her  'hiis'band  to  settle  his  estate 
anew  upon  her  children,  of  whom  she  had  several.  The  father  for  a 
length  of  time  positively  refused  to  disinherit  his  son,  convinced  as 
he  was,  in  his  own  mind,  that  h©  iwas  still  alive. 

At  length,  worn  out  by  his  wife's  importuniities,  he  agreed  to  exe- 
cute the  new  deeds  -if  his  son  did  not  return  within  a  year. 

During  the  imterval  there  were  many  violent  disputes  between 
the  husband  and  wife  upon  (the  sufbject  of  the  family  settlements. 
In  the  mid9t  of  one  of  these  altercations,  the  lady  was  startled  by 
seeing  a  hand  at  a  casement  of  the  window;  but  as  the  Iron  hasps,' 
according  to  the  ancient  fashion,  flastened  in  the  inside,  the  hand 
seemed  to  essay  the  fastenings,  and  being  'Unable  to  undo  them,  was 
Im-m'ed lately  withdrawn.  The  lady,  forgetttog  the  quarrel  with  her 
husband,  exclaimed  that  there  was  some  one  in,  the  garden.  The 
(husband  rushed  out  but  could  flTid  no  trace  of  any  lin trader,  while 
the  walls  of  the  garden  seemed  to  render  It  Impossible  for  any  such 
to  have  made  his  escape.  He  therefore  taxed  his  wife  with  having 
fancied  thait  which  she  supposed  she  saw.  She  maintained  the  accu- 
racy of  her  sight;  on  which  her  'husband  observed,  that  it  must  have 
been  the  devil,  who  was  apt  to  haunt  those  who  had  evil  consciences. 
This  tart  remark  brought  back  the  matrimonial  dialogne  to  its 
original  current.  'It  was  'no  devil,'  said  the  lady,  "but  the  ghost  of 
your  son  come  to  tell  you  be  is  dead,  and  that  you  may  give  your 
estate  to  your  bastards,  since  you  wiai  not  settle  it  on  the  lawful 
heirs.'  *It  was  my  son,*  said  he.  'come  to  tell  me  that  he  Is  alive, 
and  ask  you  how  yon  can  be  such  a  devil  as  to  urge  me  ta  disinherit 
him';  with  that  he  started  up  and  exclaimed,  'Alexander,  Alexander! 
If  you  are  olive,  show  yourself,  and  do  not  let  me  be  insulted  ©very 
day  with  being  told  you  are  dead.' 

At  these  words,  the  casement  which  the  haaid  had  been  seen  at 
opened  of  itself,  and  his  son  Alexander  looked  In  with  a  full  face 
and,  staring  directly  on  the  mother  'With  an  angry  counitenamce,  cried, 
^Here!'  and  then  vanished  in  a  moment. 

■  The  lady,  though  much  frightened  at  the  apparition,  had  wit 
enough  to  anake  it  serve  her  own  purpose;  for,  as  the  spectre  ap- 
peared at  her  husband's  summons,  she  made  affidavit  that  he  had  a 
(familiar  spirit  w%o  appeared  when  he  called  it.  To  escape  from  thii 
dUcreditable  charge  the  poor  husband  agreed  to  make  the  new 
settlement  of  the  estate  in  the  teems  demanded  by  t!h«  unreasonable 
lady. 


414  WA  VERLE Y  NO  VELS 

A  meeting  of  friends  was  held  for  that  purpose,  the  new  deed  waa 
exeeutAd,  ab^  tiM  wife  was  atwut  to  cancel  the  former  JWtUement 
by  tearing  the  seal,  when  on  a  sudden  they  heard  a  rushing  noise 
in  the  parlour  in  w<hich  they  sat,  as  if  something  had  come  in  at 
the   door   of   the   room   which   opened   from  the  hall,   and   fhen   had 

fone  through  the  room»  towards  the  garden-door,   which  was  shut; 
hey  were  all  surprised  at  it,  for  the  sound  was  very  distinct,  "but 
they  saw  nothing. 

This  rather  interrupted  the  business  of  the  meeting,  but  the 
persevering  lady  broug'hit  them  back  to  it  "I  ajm  not  frightened," 
said  She,  **not  I.  Come,"  eaid  sihe  to  'her  (husband,  haughtily,  ''I'll 
cancel  the  old  writing  <lf  forty  devils  were  in  the  room;"  with  that 
she  tools  up  one  of  the  deeds  and  was  about  to  tear  off  the  seal. 
But  ithe  double-ganger,  or  eidolon,  of  Alexander  was  as  pertinacious 
in  guarding  the  rights  of  his  principal  as  his  stepmother  in  invading 
them. 

The  same  moment  she  raised  the  paper  to  destroy  It,  the  case- 
ment flew  open,  though  it  was  fast  in  the  mside  just  as  it  w^as 
before,  and  the  shadow  of  a  body  was  seen  as  ©landing  in  the  gar- 
den without,  the  face  looking  into  the  room,  -and  staring  directly  at 
the  woman  with  a  estern  and  angry  countenance.  "Held,"  said  the 
spectre,  as  If  speaking  to  the  lady,  and  immediately  closed  the  win- 
dow and  vanished.  After  t?his  second  interruption,  the  new  settle- 
ment was  cancelled  by  the  consent  of  all  concerned,  and  Alexander, 
in  about  four  or  five  months  after,  arrived  from  the  East  Indies,  to 
which  he  had  gone  four  years  before  from  London  In  a  Portuguese 
ship.  He  could  give  no  explanation  of  what  had  happened,  except- 
ing that  he  dreamed  his  father  had  written  him  an  angry  letter, 
threatening  to  disinherit  him.— The  History  and  Reality  of  Appa- 
ritions, chap.  viiU 

NOTB  86.— CAPTAIN  INGLI3.   p.   878 

The  deeds  of  a  man,  or  rather  «,  monster,  of  this  name,  are  record- 
ed upon  the  tombstone  of  one  of  those  martyrs  which  it  was  Old 
Mortality's  delight  to  repair.  I  do  not  remember  the  name  of  the 
murdered  person,  buit  the  ci.rcumstanices  of  the  crime  were  so 
terrible  to  my  childish  Imagination  that  I  am  confident  the  following 
copy  of  the  epitaph  will  be  found  nearly  correct,  although  I  have 
not  seen  the  original  for  forty  years  at  least:— 

This  martyr  was  by  Peter  Inglls  shot. 

By  birth  a  tiger  rather  than  a  Scot; 
•  Who,  that  bis  hellish  offspring  rndgiht  be  seen. 

Cut  off  his  h«ad,  then  kick'd  It  o'er  the  green; 

Thus  was  the  head  which  was  to  wear  the  croun, 

A  foot-ball  made  by  a  profane  dragoon. 
In  Dundee's  Letters,  Captain  Inglish,  or  Inglls,  Is  repeatedly 
mentioned  as  commanding  a  troop  of  horse.  The  murdered  person 
here  referred  to  was  James  White,  of  the  parish  of  Fenwick,  Ayr- 
shire. The  epitaph  appeared  in  the  Cloud  of  Witnesses,  a  well- 
known  work  published  in  1714;  but  the  brutal  conduct  of  Inglls  is 
thus  stated  in  a  pamphlet  or  Meimorial  printed  in  1690: — "Item— The 
said  Peter  or  Patrick  (Iinglis  killed  one  Jaimes  White,  struck  off  his 
head  with  an  ax,  brought  It  to  Newmllls,  and  played  at  the  foot-ball 
with  it;  he  killed  ihim  at  the  Little  Black/  Wood,  the  foresaid  year 
1685."' 

As  proof  of  the  Author's  singular  memory.  It  may  be  stated  that 
the  epitaph  as  quoted  above  Is  almos-t  verbatim  wdth  the  original, 
except  In  the  third  line,  which  ruoiis  thus,  "who,  that  his  monsitruous 
extraot  might  be  seen"  (I/aing). 

NOTB  87.— THE  RETRDAT8  OP  THiB  COVENANTERS,  p.  8» 

The  severity  of  persecution  often  drove  the  sufferers  to  hide 
themselves  In  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  where  they  had  not  only 
to  struggle  with  the  real  dangers  of  damp,  darkness,  and  famine, 
but  were  called  upon  In  their  disordered  imaginations  to  oppose  the 
Infernal  powers  by  whom  such  caverns  were  believed  to  be  haunted. 
^  **ry    romantio   scene   of    rocks,    thickets,    and    cascades,    oaiiea 


BOTES  il5 

Criohope  Linn,  on  the  estate  of  Mr.  Menteath  of  Closeburn,  Is  said 
to  have  been  the  retreat  of  some  of  these  enthusiasts,  who  judged 
it  safer  to  face  the  apparitions  by  which  the  place  was  thoug-ht  to 
be  haunted  than  to  expose  themselves  to  the  rage  of  their  mortal 
enemies. 

Another  remarkable  encounter  betwixt  the  Foul  Fiend  and  the 
champions  ot  the  Covenant  is  preserved  in  certain  rude  rhymes,  not 
yet  forgotten  in  Ettrick  Forest.  Two  men,  it  is  said,  by  name  Haibert 
Dobson  and  David  Dun,  constructed  for  themselves  a  place  of  refuge 
in  a  hidden  ravine  of  a  very  savage  character,  by  the  side  of  a  con- 
siderable waterfall,  near  the  head  of  Moffat  Water.  Here,  concealed 
from  human  foes,  they  were  assailed  by  Satan  himself,  who  came 
upon  them  grinning  and  making  mouths,  as  if  trying  to  frighten 
them,  and  disturb  their  devotions.  The  wanderers,  more  incensed 
than  astonished  at  this  supernatural  visitation,  assailed  their  ghostly 
visitor,  boaffeted  him  soundly  with  their  Bibles,  and  comp-elled  him  at 
length  to  cliange  hi'mself  into  the  resemblance  of  a  pack  of  dried 
hides,  in  which  shape  he  rolled  down  the  cascade.  The  shape  which 
he  assumed  was  probably  designed  to  excite  the  cupidity  of  the 
assailants,  who,  as  souters  of  Selkirk,  might  have  been  disposed  to 
attempt  something  to  save  a  package  of  good  ieatlier.  Thus, 
Hab  Dab  and  David  Din, 
Dang  the  Deil  ower  Dabson's  Linn. 

The  popjoilar  verses  recording  this  feat,  to  which  Bums  seems  to 
"have  been  indebted  for  some  hints  in  his  "Address  to  the  Deil,"  may 
be  found  in  the  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  vol.  ii. 

It  cannot  be  matter  of  wonder  to  any  one  at  all  acquainted  with 
human  nature,  that  superstition  should  have  aggravated,  by  its 
terrors,  the  apprehensions  to  which  men  of  enthusiastic  character 
were  disposed  by  the  gloomy  haunts  to  which  they  had  fled  for 
refuge. 

NOTE  38.— PREDICTIONS  OF  THE  COVENANTERS,    p.   384 

The  sword  of  Captain  John  Paton  of  Meadowhead,  a  Camer- 
onian,  famous  for  his  persDnal  prowess,  bore  testimony  to  his  exer- 
tions in  the  cause  of  the  Covenant,  and  was  typical  of  the  oppres- 
sions of  the  times.  "Their  sword  or  short  shabble  (sciabbola, 
Italian)  yet  remains,"  says  Mr.  sHowie  of  Loohgoin.  "It  was  then  by 
his  progenitors  (meaning  descendants,  a  rather  unusu-al  use  of  the 
word)  counted  to  have  twenty-eight  gaps  in  its  edge;  which  made 
them  afterwards  observe,  that  there  were  just  as  many  years  of 
the  persecution  as  there  were  steps  or  broken  pieces  in  its  edge." — 
Scots  Worthies,  edit.  1796,  p.  416. 

The  persecuted  party,  as  their  circumstances  led  to  their  placing 
a  due  and  sincere  reliance  on  heaven,  when  earth  was  scarce  per- 
mitted to  bear  them,  fell  naturally  into  enthusiastic  credulity,  and, 
as  they  imagined,  direct  contention  with  the  powers  of  darkness, 
so  they  conceived  some  amongst  them  to  be  oossessed  of  a  power 
of  prediction,  which,  though  they  did  not  exactly  call  it  inspired 
prophecy,  seems  to  have  approached,  in  their  opinion,  very  nearly 
to  it.  The  subject  of  these  predictions  was  generally  of  a  melan- 
choly nature:  for  it  is  during  such  times  of  blood  and  confusion  that 
Pale-eyed  prophets  whisper  fearful  change. 

The  celebrated  Alexander  Peden  was  haunted  by  the  teorors  of  a 
French  invasion,  and  was  often  heard  to  exclaim.  *Oh,  the  Monzies, 
the  French  Monzies  (for  Mounsiers,  doubtless),  how  they  run!  How 
long  will  they  run?  0»h  Lord,  cut  their  houghs  and  stay  their  run- 
ning!' He  afterwards  declared,  that  French  blood  would  run  thicker 
in  the  waters  of  Ayr  and  Clyde  than  ever  did  that  of  the  Highland- 
men.  Upon  another  occasion,  he  said  he  had  Haeen  made  to  see  the 
French  marching  with  their  armies  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land  in  the  blood  of  all  ranks,  up  to  the  bridle-reins,  and  that  for 
a  burned,  broken,  and  burled  Covenant. 

G-abriel  Semple  also  prophesied.  In  passing  by  the  house  of  Ken- 
mure,  to  which  workmen  we<re  making  some  additions,  he  said,  'Dads, 
you  are  very  busy  enlarging  and  repairing  that  house,  but  it  will  be 
burned  like  a  crow's  nest  in  a  misty  May  morning'  ;  which  accordingly 


m  WA  YERZEY  KO  VEZ& 

cvooae  to  pass,  ffh©  house  bedtigr  burned  by  the  English  forces  in  a  cloudy 
May  morning. 

Other  instances  might  be  added,  but  these  are  enough  to  ehow  the 
character  of  the  people  end  times. 

NOTB  39.— JOHN  BALFOUH,  CAiLLED  BURLiEY,  p.  394 

The  retuTn  of  John  Balfour  oif  Klnloch,  called  Burley,  to  Scotland, 
as  well  as  his  violent  death  in  the  manner  described,  is  entirely  ficti- 
tious. He  was  wounded  at  Bothwell  Bridge,  When  he  uttered  the  exe- 
cration transferred  to  the  text,  not  much  in  unison  with  his  religious 
pretensions.  He  aferwards  escaped  to  Holland,  where  he  found 
refuge  with  other  fugitives  of  thatt  disturbed  period.  His  biographer 
seems 's'imple  enough  to  believe  that  »ie  rose  high  in  the  Prince  of 
Orange's  'favour,  and  observes,  'That  having  still  a  desire  to  be 
avenged  upon  those  who  persecuted  the  Lord's  cause  and  people  4n 
Scotland,  it  is  said  he  obtained  liberty  from  the  Prince  for  that  pur- 
tyose,  but  died  at  sea  before  their  arrival  In  Scotland;  wheroby  that 
design  was  never  aocoanplished,  and  so  the  land  was  never  purged  by 
the  blood  of  them  who  had  shed  innocent  blood,  according  to  the  law 
of  the  Lord— Oen.  ix.  6,  Whoso  sheddeth  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his 
blood  be  shed.'— Scots  WortJhies,  p.  552. 

It  was  'reserved  for  this  historian  to  discover  that  the  mioderatlon 
of  King  William,  and  his  prudent  anxiety  to  prevent  that  perpetuating 
of  factlious  quarrels  which  is  called  in  modern  times  reaction,  were 
only   adopted  in  consequence  of   the  death  of  John   Balfour,    called 

The*  late  Mr.  Wem3^s,  of  Wem3^®s  Hall,  in  Pifeshlre,  succeeded  to 
Balfour's  property  in  late  ttmes,  and  had  severaJl  accounts,  papers, 
articles  of  dress,  etc.,  which  belonged  to  the  old  homicide. 

His  name  seems  still  to  exist  in  Holland  or  Flanders;  for  In  the 
Brussels  papers  of  28th  July  1828,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Balfour  de  Bur- 
leigh is  named  Commandant  of  the  troops  of  the  King  of  the  Nether- 
lands "in  the  West  Indies. 

NOTEJ  40.— BALFOUR'S  GRAVE,  p.  394 

Gentlie  reader,  I  did  reques't  of  mine  honest  friend  Peter  Proudfoot, 
travelling  merchamt,  known  to  many  of  this  land  for  his  faithful  and 
Just  dealings,  as  well  in  muslins  and  cambrics  as  in  small  wares,  to 
procure  me  on  his  next  peregrination  to  that  vicinage  a  copy  of  the 
•pltaphion  alluded  to.  And,  according  to  his  report,  which  I  see  no 
ground  to  ddscredlit,  it  runneth  thus; 

Here  lyes  ane  saint  to  prelates  surly. 

Being  John  Balfour,  sometime  of  Burley, 

Who  stirred  up  to  vengeance  take. 

For  Solemn  "League  and  Cov'nant's  sake. 

Upon  the  Magus  Moor  In  FTlfe 

Did  itak  James  Sharpe  the  apostate's  lite; 

By  Dutohman's  bands  was  hacked  and  shcl* 

Tbon  drowiMd  is  Clyde  near  this  saam  gpoL 


GLOSSARY 


WORDS,  PHRASES,  AND  ALLUSIONS 


/tBULYIEJMENTS,  haWli- 
ments,   equipments 

ABUNB,  ABOON,  above; 
MAIiT  ABUNE  THE 
MEAL.,  the  ale  begins  to 
take  effect 

AOQUENT,   acquainted 

ADHUC  IN  PENDENTE, 
BtUl    penddng 

AB,  one 

AGAIN,  against,  until,  be- 
fore 

AGGER,  a  rampart,  mound 

AIN,  own 

AIR,  early 

AITMEAL.  oatmeal 

AJEE,  awry 

AMAIST,  almost 

ANABAPTISTS  OF  MUN- 
STDR.  Bockhold,  Knip- 
perdolHng,  and  otfliers, 
disciples  of  one  John 
Matthiesen,  were  guilty 
of  the  wildest  excesses 
at  Munster  fin.  Westpha- 
lia In  1534-36 

ANCE,   ANEJS,  once 

AQUA  MIRABILIS,  the 
wonderful  water,  a  cor- 
dial compounded  of  spir- 
it of  wine,  nutmegs,  oar- 
d«.mons,  ginger,  mace, 
etc. 

ARK,  a  meal-chest 

ARL.ES,  earnest-money 

AR'M-GAUNT,  with  gaunt 
or  lean  Hmbs  (Shake- 
speare, Antony  and  Cle- 
opatra, Act  1.   Sc.   5) 

ARTAMINES,  or  ARTA- 
MINE,  a  character  in 
Mdlle.  Scudery'8  Grand 
Gyrus,  supposed  to  rep- 
resent Oonde 

ASTEBR,    in  confusion 

AUCHLETT,  two  stones 
welghrt;,  or  peck  measure 

AUGHT,    to   own 

AUTO-DA-FE,  the  execu- 
tioa  of  heretics  by  the 
Iinqulsltion 

AVA.  At  all 

BAB,  «  bunch,  knot 
BAOK-aWORD,     a     sword 
with    only    one    cutting 
edge;  &  single-atick 


BAFF,    bang 

BAKER,  DEVIL,  AND 
PUNCH.     See  Punch 

BARKING  AND  FLEE- 
ING, going  to  wreck  and 
ruin 

BASS.  See  Tower  of  the 
Bass 

BATTS,   the  colic 

BAWBEE,  a  halfpenny 

BEAR,  a  kind  of  barley 

BEIDRAL,  a  beadle,  grave- 
digger 

PBET-MASTER,  a  substi- 
tute 

BEHADDEN,  beholden, 
obliged 

BEILD,   shelter 

BBLYVE,     directly 

BEN,  BROUGHT  FAR- 
THER, better  treated, 
made  Intimate;  WIN 
FARTHER  BEN,  get 
farther  in 

BENEDICITK!   bless  ye! 

BENNISON,    blessing 

BESTIAL,   cattle 

BICKER,  wooden  bowl, 
cup 

BIDE,  to  wait,  stay;  sufTer 

BIET"!,  or  BEIN,  well  pro- 
vided 

BIGGIT  WA'S.  built,  I.  e. 
stone,    walls 

BILBO,  a  sword'  with  an 
elastic,  fnely-tempered 
blade 

BIRKIE8,  lively  'blades' 

BIRL,    to  drink,    tipple 

BITTOOK,  a  good  bit  more 

BLACK- A- VIS  ED,  dark- 
complexioned. 

3LACK-PISHBRS.  salman- 
poachors 

BliAOK-JACK,  a  large  jug 
of  waxed  leather,  for  ale 

BLATE,    ashamed,    bashful 

BLEEZE,  blaze,  flame;  to 
maJtei  an  outcry 

BLETHERING,  chatter- 
ing, idly  but  volubly 
talking 

BLINK,  a  glance;  a  mo- 
ment,  short  while 

BLYTHE,   glad 

^7 


BODDLE,  or  BODLE,  a 
small  copper  coin,  worth 
l-3d.   halfpenny 

BOLE,   an  aperture 

BON  CAMARADO,  a  chum, 
boon  companion 

BOOTS,  a  contrivance  for 
torturing  the   feet 

BORE,  an  aperture,  crev- 
ice 

BOROUGH-TOWN,  &  royal 
boroug>h 

BOW,  a  boll 

BOWIE,  a  wooden  pail, 
tub 

B  R  A  W  ,  fine,  brave; 
BRAWS,    fine    things 

BREJCHAM,  the  collar  ot  a 
working-horse 

BREERING,   sprouting 

BRENTFORD,  EQUES- 

TRIAN TRIP  TO,  that 
of  John.  Gilpin,  linen- 
draper  of  London;  but 
he  rode  to  Ware  and 
Edmonton,  not  to  Brent- 
ford 

BRICKLE,  ticklish,  trou- 
blesome 

BROGUE,  «  Highland 
shoe 

BROO,  a  favorable  opin- 
ion,  liking 

BROsE,  oatmeal  over 
which  boiling  water  has 
been  poured. 

BROWST,  a  brewing 

BUCKING-TUB,  a  tub  for 
steeping.  In  the  old  pro- 
cess of  bleaching  clothes 

BUDGET,  a  socket  for  a 
carabine 

BURTHOOG.  or  BURTH- 
OGGE,  RICHARD,  aa 
English  doctor  of  medi- 
cine who  wrote  An  Essay 
Upon  Reason  and  the 
Nature  of  Spirits  (1694) 

BUSK,  to  deck,  attire 

bye;   past,   besides 

BY  ORDINAR,  above  the 
common,  more  than  usu" 
al 

BYRBL  *  eov-hoQs« 


41S 


WAVERLEY  JT0VEZ8 


OA',   to  call,  drive 

OAJESAREIAN  OPERA- 
TION,  a  surgical  opera- 
tion to  s«oure  delivery 
(as  in  the  case  of  Caesai) 

OALLANT,   a  lad 

CALiPRENEDE,  LA,  author 
of  Cleopatre  (10  vols., 
1647)  and  other  extrava- 
gant, Jong-winded  ro- 
mances, much  read  in 
their  day 

OANNA  HEIAR  DAY  NOR 
DOOR,  deaf  as  a  post 

CAhTNY,  pru-dent,  know- 
ing, cautious;  CANNI- 
LY,  nicely,  civilly, 
quietly 

CA  R  C  A  G  B  S,  carcases, 
dead  bodies 

CARLE,  a  fellow 

CARLINB,  o  1  d  woman, 
witch 

OAST,  an  old  spelling  of 
oaste,  «.n  exclusive  par- 
ty or  social  class 

CAST  O'  A  CART,  chance 
use  of  a  cart,   a  lift 

CATBRAN,   a  robber 

CATERPILLARS,  rapa- 
cious persons 

CATE)S,    via,nds,    victuals 

OAT  IN  PAN,  TO  TURN 
THE,  to  act  the  turn- 
coat 

OAULD,   cold 

CAUP,  or  OAP,  a  wooden 
bowl  for  containing  food 

CAUSEWAYED,  burnt  so 
as  to  be  stiff  end  hard 
Wke  «.  causeway  or 
causey 

CECILIA.     See  Delville 

OESS,    land  tax 

':HAINZIE,  or  CHAINYIE, 
a  diminoitive  for  chain 

OHAMBEJR  OF  DAIS,  the 
best    bedroom 

C3HANCY,  lucky,  fortunate 

OHANGE.HOUSB,  a  small 
inn  or  ale-house 

CHANTER,  that  pipe  of  a 
bagpipe  in  which  are  the 
finger-holes 

CHAPPTN,  «,  quart  mea- 
sure 

CHASSEUR,   a  sportsman 

CHEEK  O'  THE  INGLE. 
See  Ingle 

::HIBLD,   a  fellow 

3HIMLEY-NEUK.  t  St  e 
chimney-corner 

CLAOHAN.  village,  ham- 
let 

OLAES,   clothes. 

OLASHEB,  gossip,  non- 
sense,  scandal 

(JLAVERINO,  gosarlping; 
CLAVBRIS.  soeedp,  non- 
sense 

tJLELAND,  a  poet  and  sol- 
dier, distinguished  him- 
eel<  at  Drumclog,  and 
was  killed  In  1689  in  the 
defence  of  Dunkeld,  at 
the  head  of  the  Camer- 
onian  Regiment 

RLBUGH.  a  ravine 


CLOUR,  to  thump 

CLOUTED  SH(>E,  a  shoe 
the  sole  of  which  is 
studded  with  big  nails; 
also  a  mended  or  cobbled 
shoe 

CLOW  -  GILLIEFLOWBR, 
the  clove  gillyflower 

COOKEIRNONY,  a  top- 
knot on  the  head,  bound 
by  a  fillet 

DOCKING  (SiPANIEL), 

snarling,    fighting 

COCK  LAIRD,  a  small 
landholder  who  culti- 
vates his  estate  himself, 
yeoman 

COGUE,  a.  wooden  pail 

COLrt"  POALEiD  OF  AN 
ACORN.  the  wooden 
mare,  timber  horse.  See 
Note  15.   p.   417 

COMMINATION,  threaten- 
ing oif  Divine  punish- 
ments, a  special  form  of 
service  in  the  Church  of 
England 

(X)RRA  LINN,  one  of  the 
Falls  of  the  Clyde,  near 
Lanark 

COT-HOUSE,  a  cottage 

COUP,  to  barter,  buy  and 
sell;  tumble;  also  a 
bowl 

CRACK,  talk,  friendly  chat 

CREEIa  a  basket  for  the 
back;  IN  A  CREEL, 
crazy 

CROWDY,  oatmeal  and 
water  stirred  together 

OUITTLE,    to  wheedle 

CURGH,  a  woman's  ker- 
chief or  head-covering 

CURMURRING,  murmur- 
ing In  the  stomach, 
slight  gripes 

CURNEY,     large-grained 

CUTTER'S  LAW,  the  law 
of  the  sharper,  robber 

CUTTIE.  a  pert,  impu- 
dent 'girl,  a  wanton 

CUTTY  -  SPOON,  short 
spoon 

DAFFING.  larking,  flirt- 
ing 

DiAFT,    crazy 

DAIDLING,  trifling,  Inact- 
ive,  useless 

DAIS,  CHAMBER  OF.  See 
Chamber 

DANG,    knocked,   thrust 

DARjOUE,    a  day's  work 

DAUR,   dare 

DAY  NOR  DOOR.  CAN- 
NA  HEAR,  deaf  as  a 
post 

DDAVE,  to  deafen 

DEC0PTIO  VISUS,  optical 
iHusion 

OEER-HAJR.  the  heath 
club-rush 

DBIL  GIN,  devil  may  care 
If 

DE  L'ANOfflE.  PIERRE,  a 
stern  enemy  of  witch- 
craft and  author  of  Tat>. 
leau      4e      rinconstanca 


des  Mauvais  Anges  et 
Demons  (1613) 

DBLRIO.  MARTIN  AN- 
TONY, Dutch  theologian 
of  the  16th  century,  wrote 
Dlaquisi'tionum  Magic- 
anum  Librl  Sex  (15»»),  a 
celebrated  work  on  sor- 
cery and  kindred  topics 

DiDLVILLE  AND  CECIL- 
IA, In  Miss  Burney's 
Cecilia   (1782) 

DEMAS.     See  2  Tim.  Iv.  Ift 

DBNTY.   dainty 

DEVIL,        PUNCH       AND 

TVT^^^^•     See  Punch 

WE.  BONNY,  a  petty  toy 
gewgaw  ' 

DIGMriNG.        winnowing. 

nw^    f  •■  f leaning,  wiping 

DING,  to  knock  off;  DING 
AJEE,   upset,  mar 

DINGWALL.  A  man  of 
this  nam*  was  of  the 
party  who  murdered 
Archbishop  Sharp,  and 
was  hlmseM  killed  at 
Drumclog 

DINNA,  do  not 

DIOTREPHE8.  See  Third 
Bpistle  of  John,    ver.    9 

DIRDUM,  an  ado,  mess 

DISJASKED,  decayed  or 
miserable-looking 

DISJUNB,  dejeune,  break- 
fast 

DIV,  do 

DIVERTISBMENT,  amuse- 
ment,  pastime 

DOOMS,   confoundedly 

DOOMSTER.  See  Note  to 
Heart   of  Midlothian 

DOUBLE-GiANOER.a  spec- 
tral double  of  a  person 

DOUCE,  quiet,  sensible 

DOUDLE  THE  BAG  O* 
WIND,  to  daudle,  hug. 
and  caress,   the  bagpipes 

DOUR,   stubborn,  obstinate 

DOW.    DOO,    dove 

DOWNA  BIDE.  cannot 
bear,  don't  like;  DOW'D 
NA,  did  not  like 

DRAMMOCK,  raw  meal 
and   water  mixed 

DREE,    to  suffer 

DREBLING,    drilling 

DROUTHY,    dry,    thirsty 

DRUOKEN,    drunken 

PUDGEON-HAJT,  the  haft 
or  hilt  of  a  dagger  or- 
namected  with  gravea 
lines. 

DUDS,    dothes 

DUNBAR,  RACB  OF, 
Oromwell's  defeat  of 
Leslie  at  Dunbar  In  1650 

DUNG  OWBH,  overcome^ 
beaten 

DWAiM,  a  9woon 

EARLSHALI,,  DRUOB  OP, 
Claverhouse's    lieutenant 

IBE,    eye;    E'E>N,    eyes 

E'ENOW,    Just  now 

BFPEXrrUAL  OALUINO. 
See  The  Shorter  Cate- 
chism, Qu.  31 


GLOSSARY 


419 


BIDENT.  attentive,  dili- 
gent 

EIDOLON,  a  spectral 
image 

EIK,   an  addition 

EL.IHU.    See  Job  xxili. 

DNEUCH.  E  N  K  U  G  H, 
ENOW,    enough 

ESPIBGLE,   roguish 

FAILED,   failing,  feeble 

FAIRING,  GIB  HIM  A, 
settle  him,  grtve  him 
something  to  remember 
one   by 

FARD,  to  colour,  embel- 
lish 

FAiSH,  trouble;  to  trouble, 
bother 

FAULD-DIKB,  the  wall  of 
a  sheep-fold 

PAUT,    fault 

FAUT  O'FUDE,  want  of 
food 

FECK,   the  greatest  part 

FECKLESS,  harmless, 
feetole 

FEB  AND  BOUNTITH, 
wages  and  perquisites 

FEMALE  QUIXOTE.  See 
Mrs.    Lennox 

FEND,  to  provide 

FERGUSON,  ROBERT, 
styled  the  Plotter,  from 
having  been  oonceimed  in 
the  Rye-House  and  other 
plots  «gain«t  James  II., 
was  a  laading  partisan 
of  the  Duke  of  Mon- 
mouth, and  afterwards 
plotted  against  William 
III. 

FIRE-FLAUGHT,  a  flash 
of  lightning 

FISSENLDSS.  FIZZEN- 

LB9S,  FOISONLESS, 

without  energy,  spirit- 
less, lacking  pith 

FITBA*.    football 

FLEECH,  to  wlieedle,  ca- 
jole 

FLYTE,    to    scold 

FOISONLESS.    See   Flssen- 

FORBYE,    besides 

FORE-A-HAND,  leading, 
going  first 

FORGATHER,  to  come  to- 
gether, put  their  heads 
together 

FORRIT,    forward 

FOUL  FA'  YE.  Ill  befall 
ye 

FOUNTAINHALL.  LORD. 
1.  e..  Sir  John  Lauder, 
Bart.,  a  law  lord,  author 
of  Chronological  Notes  of 
Scottish    Affairs,    etc. 

FR'AIM.    strange 

FRIAR'S  CHICKEN, 
ehicken  broth,  with  eggs 
mixed    In    it 

FURjS,    furrows 

FUSEiO.  «  flint-lock  mus- 
ket 

GABO,  -went;  OANB,  Epat; 
QANQ.    90 


GAiLLIO,  proconsul  of 
Achaia,  or  Southern 
Greece.  See  Acts  xviii. 
12-27 

GALLOWAY,  a  breed  of 
horses  in  the  south-west 
<rf  Scotland 

GAR,   to  make,   ohllge 

GATE,  GAIT,  way,  mode, 
direction 

GAUN,   going 

GAUNTREES  a  stand  for 
casks 

GAY,    pretty,    considerably 

GEAR,    property,    goods 

GILPY  a  froliosome  lassie 

GIN.    If 

GIRNEL,  a  granary,  meal- 
chest 

GLEDGE,  a  Bly  elde 
glance 

GLEG,    quick,    sharp 

GLE^STKENS.     See   Kens 

GLIPP,  an  Instant;  also 
fright 

GLOWRING,  staring,  gaz- 
ing hard  at 

GOMERIL,  a  fool,  simple- 
ton, lout 

GOVERNANTE,  h  O  U  •  e  - 
keeper 

GOWK  a  fool 

GOWPEN,    a   handful 

GRAMASHES,    leggings 

GR\NE,   to  groan 

GRASSMARKET,  the  place 
of  public  execution  in 
Edinburgh 

GUDiDMAN.    husband 

GUDBWIPE,    wife 

GUIDE  (good  or  tU),  to 
treat,  behave  to 

HAPTED.    settled 
HAILL,    HALE,    whole 
HANTLE,  a  good  deal 
HARLE,   to  trail,  drag 
HARNS,   brains 
HARRISON,  THOMAS,   the 
Parliamentarian        and 
regicide 
HAR'ST.  OWE  A  DAY  IN, 
to  owe  a  great  deal    In 
time  of  need 
HASH,    a    lout,    blockhead 
HAUD,    to    hold 
HAUD,      IMMHMOR.      Hot 

unmindful 
HAUGH.    a   level   plain 
HAULD,   a  baibitatlon 
HAUSE.   the    throat 
HAVINGS,    behaviour,    de- 
meanour 
HELLIOAT,    violent,    wild 
HRMPIE   giddy,    romping 
HERITORS,       owners       of 
land    or    other    heritable 
property   In   Scotland 
HBUGH    a   steep    hill 
HIOKERY-PIOKBRY,       hl- 
erapicra,   a  warm  purga- 
tive,  made  of  aloes,  cin- 
namon  and   honey 
HIGHLA-ND.MEN    IN    1677. 
A       "Highland       host," 
6.000  to  8,000  were  quar- 
tered    In     Ayrshire     and 
adjacent  counties  to  pun- 


ish those  who  upheld 
conventicles 

HILL-FOLK,  the  Cove- 
nanters (as  they  wor- 
shipped among  the  hills) 

HiNiXT.  honey,  a  term  of 
endearment 

HIT,  a  special  kind  of 
move    in   backgammon 

HOAST,  a  cough 

HODDE)N-OREY,  the  nat- 
ural colour  of  wool 

HOLME,  low  ground  by  a 
stream 

HORNING,  a  legal  injunc- 
tion to  a  debtor  to  p^y 
a  debt,  under  penalty  of 
being  proclaimed  a  rebel 
to  the  king 

HOSTING,  mustering  of 
armed    men 

HOUsiE  OP  MUTR,  a 
place  where  markets 
were  held,  on  the  Pent- 
land  Hills,  near  Glen- 
corse 

HOWFP,  a  place  of  resort 

HUiMLIE,  or  HUMBLE. 
COW,  a  cow  without 
horns 

HUP  NOR  WIND,  go  to 
right  nor  left,  used  ta 
a   horse 

HURCHEON,    a   hedgehog 

HURD-IBS.    the    buttocks 

ILK,    ILJCA,    each,    every; 

ILKA-OAYS.    week    dayi 
ILL-FAUR'D.    Ill-favoured, 

ugly 
IN        COMMENDAM,        la 

trust,   along  with 
INOONSTANT.     See    Mlra- 

abel 
INGLE,        flre;        INGLE- 
NOOK,     flrertde    comer; 

OltEBK  OP  THE  INGLE. 

the  fireside 
IN    RBRUM    NATUUA,    la 

existence 
ITHBR.   <yther 

JALOUISE,  to  suspect,  b« 
suapicious  of 

JAUD.    jade 

JEMMY  AND  JENNY 
JE3SAMY  by  Eliza  Hay- 
wood   (17.53) 

OENNYPILBCTFON,  genu- 
flexion,   kneeling  down  . 

JIMPLY,    scantily 

JO,    JOE,    a  sweetheart 

JOAN  TAMSON'S  MAN,  a 
hen-pecked    hu^and 

JULIA  DE  RUBIGNE.  by 
Henry  Mackenzie.  The 
Man  of  Feeling  (1795) 

JUSTICE  OVERDO,  la 
Ben  Jonson's  Bartholo- 
mew  Fair 

JUSTIFIED,  executed 

KAIL,  KALE,  cabbage 
greens,  broth ;  KAIL- 
BROSE,  pottage  ef  meal 
made  with  the  scum  ot 
broth ;  KALE  (soui^ 
THROUGH    THE    REH» 


420 


WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 


(smoke),  to  take  over  the 
coals,  «U>rm  and  rail  ait; 
KAIL-WORM,  A  term  of 
oontempt;  KALiB-YARD, 
«.   veeetaible  garden 

KAISAA,  Caesar,  tbat  Is. 
any  emperor 

KBBBIB,  a  hook-headed 
staff 

KEIDK,  to  peep 

KEUHLYVINE,  A  lead  pen- 
cil 

KETNS  OP  GALLOWAY,  a 
rugged  district,  known 
as  Glenkens.  In  Kirkcud- 
brightshire, where  many 
o  (  the  Oaimeroniana 
found  refuge 

KENT,   a   staff 

KINDLY  TBISTANTS,  those 
-whose  ancestors  have 
long  held  the  same  land 

KITTLE,  ticklish,  difficult, 
touchy 

KNAPPINO,  mouthlTig, 

talking  in  im  affected 
manner 

KYB,   klne.  oow» 

LAIGH,  low 

LAITH,  loth 

LANE,    TtHE3R.    (alone    by 

themselves;  MY  LANE, 
by  myself 

LANG  TEN,  the  ten  of 
trumps  in  Scotch  whist 

LANRICK,  Lanark 

LASSOCK,   a  little  girl 

LAVE,  the  remainder,  rest 

LAVROCKS,  SANDY, 
ga-nd-Jarks 

LAWINO,  the  reckoning 

LEiASINQ-iMAKING.  false- 
hood against  the  sover- 
eign to  t!he  people,  or 
vice  versa,  high  treason 

LEJSLErsr.  or  liBSLIK, 
ALBXAINDER.  after- 

wards Earl  of  Leven; 
was  field-marshal  In  the 
army  of  OoBtaTus 
Adolphus 

LET,  to  hinder 

LIOK.  a  blow 

LDPPDN.  to  trust 

LIPPIB,  the  fourth  part 
of  a  peck 

HTHGOW-TCWTOI,  Linlith- 
gow 

LiOCALITIES,  the  shares 
of  an  increase  of  the 
parochial  stipend  that 
fall  on  the  several  land- 
owners 

LOCK,  a  handful 

LOOP,  palm  of  tb«  hand 

LOON,   a  fellow 

LOOP  DOUN  (A  HAT),  let 
down  the  cocked  points 

LOOT,  allowed,  let; 
LOOTEN,  discharged 

LOUND,   quiet 

LOUNDBR,   to  thump 

LOUP,   to  leap 

LOW,  a  flame 

LOWDIEN  MALUSHA. 
Lothian  miUtla 


LUa,  the  ear:  BLAW  IN 
ONE'S  LUG,  cajole,  flat- 
ter; PU'  OUT  BY  LUG 
AND  HORN,  drag  out  as 
a  ;.  epherd  drags  out  a 
horned  sheep 

LUKEWARM  LAODI- 
CEAN. See  Revelation 
lii.   16 

LUM,  a  chimney 

LUPPEN,  leapt 

MAGOR-MISSABIB.         See 

Jeremiah  xx.  3 
MAIN,  a  hand  or  throw  at 

dice 
MAINS,  the  home-farm 
MAIR   BY  TOKEN,    espec- 
ially 
MAIR    HOUSE,    a    better 
table  and  establishment 
MAIST,  almost 
MAJORING,  strutting, 

prancing  with  a  military 
air 

MALCAIAH,  SON  OP 
HAMELMELECH.  See 
Jeremiah  xxxviii.  6.  The 
•king's  son,*  or  Hamme- 
lech,  was  apparently  the 
title  of  an  officer  of  the 
royal  household. 

MALE  PARTA  PEJUS 
DILABUNTUR,  Ill-got- 
ten,   worse    spent 

MALLISHA.     militia 

MALT  ABUNB  THE 
MEAL.     See  Abune 

MARAVEDI,  an  old  Span- 
ish copper  coin,  worth 
less  than    %th   penny 

MARGRAVE,  originally  an 
officer  of  the  German 
empire,  the  count  (graf, 
grave)  of  a  frontier 
province  (mark,  march); 
afterwards  a  title  of  no- 
bility 

MART,    a  fatted   cow,    ox 

MASHLUM.  mixed  grain 

MASK,  to  brew 

MASSY,   full  of  conceit 

MASTER  SILENCE.  See 
Shakespeare's  Henry  IV. 
Part   II.    Act.    V.    Sc.    3 

MAUNDER,  to  mutter  and 
grumble,  talk  for  talk- 
ing's  sake 

MAUT,   malt 

MAWKIN,    a  hare 

MEAL- ARK,  meal-tub  or 
bin 

MBARNS,  the  ancient 
name  of  Klncardlneshirt 

MELVIN.  JAMES,  should 
be  James  Melville,  one 
of  the  assisins  of  Cardi* 
nal  Beaton  In  154( 

MENSEFU',  becoming, 
suitable 

MERK,   Is.   md. 

MEROZ.  CURSE  OP.  Seo 
Judges  ▼.  23 

MILE.  SOOTS,  nearly  9 
furlongs 

MINNIB.  mother 


MIRABEL    IN    THE    IN- 
CONSTANT,   a    play    by 
G.    Farquhar,    1702,    but 
taken      in      great      part 
from     Fletcher's     Wild- 
goose  Chase 
MIRLIGOES,   dizziness 
MISLBAR'D,    unmannerly 
MONRO.     MAJOR-GENER- 
AL  ROBEIRT,    frequently 
alluded   to  In  Legend   of 
Montrose 
MONSEBtTR.  SCUDERI. 

Grand  Cyrus  was  origin- 
ally publl'shed  under  the 
name  of  Georges  de  Scu- 
dery,  Madeleine's  broth- 
er, though  he  cmly  con- 
tributed the  outline  of 
the  story 
MONTGOMERY,  SIR 

JAMES,     of     Skelmorlie, 
one   of    the    commission- 
ers    sent     to     offer     the 
crown    to   the    Prince    of 
Orange;       being      disap- 
pointed   of   the   office    he 
coveted,         he        plotted 
against    William    in    the 
Interests    of   James    II. 
MONZIias,    probably    mon- 
sieurs.    The    words    were 
apparently     spoken     dur- 
ing apprehensions  of   in- 
vasion  from  France.    See 
Note  38.    p.    439 
MOSS-FLOW,       a       boggy 
place ;       MOSS-HAG,       a 
bog-pit 
MOUSQUETAIRBS, 
F^BNOH.     companiee    of 
gentlemen     who     formed 
the  king's  guard  and  ea- 
joyed  many  privileges 
MRS.        LENNOX'S        PE- 
MALE    QUIXOl\ 
an      imitation      of      Don 
Quixote,      ridiculing     the 
long-Tt'inded    French    ro- 
mances of   the   time 
MUIR,    TAK   THE.    to   flee 

to  the  moors 
MUR>GE»NS.      contortions. 

violent  gestures 
MURUS.   a  wall 
MUTCHKIN,   pint  measure 

NABAL.     See  1  Sam.  xxv. 

NASH-GAB,  trashy,  Inso. 
lent  talk 

NETST.   next 

NEUK.   a  nook,   comer 

NEVOY,  a  nephew 

NIEX5B,  according  to  ol4 
custom.  frequently 
means  granddaughter 

NIL  NOVIT  IN  CAUSA, 
he  knew  nothing  about  it 

NOBLE,  an  old  Bnglitfli 
coin,  worth  at  first  ta. 
8d.,    later  10s. 

NULLIFIDIAN,  an  unbe- 
liever 

ONSTEAD.  a  farm-stead- 
ing 

ORiLANDO.  the  hero  of 
Ariosto's  romaotio  epio 


GLOSSARY, 


m 


OUTFIELD  AND  IX- 
FIDL.D.  Land  constant- 
ly manured  and  culti-  • 
vated  was  called  'in- 
field' ;  land  cropped, 
without  manure,  until 
.«xliausted,     'outfield' 

ITJTSHOT.  a  projecting 
addition    to  a   building 

OUT-TAKEN,    excepting 

PVBRITON.  RICHARD, 
Leveller  and  pamphle- 
teer (1642-49),  was  im- 
prisoned in  Newgate  for 
attacking  the  House  of 
Lord« 

OWSEN,   oxen 

PADUASOY,  a  lady' 3 
habit  made  of  Padua  silk 

PA'RDNT,   a  kinswoman 

PARRITC7H,    porridge 

PATON  OP  MEADOW- 
HEAD,  an  Ayrshire  Co- 
venanter, distinguished 
himself  in  the  German 
wars  and  at  the  battle 
of  Worcester;  he  was 
executed  after  Bothwell 
Brig 

PEARLINGS,  a  kind  of 
lace,  made  of  thread  or 
silk 

PEAT-HAG,  a  hollow  In  a 
moor  left  from  digging 
peats 

PBEIL-HOUSB,  a  small 
fortified   house,    or   tower 

PEINE  FORTE  ET  DURE, 
stern   necessity 

PENNY-FEiB,  wages 

PENTLAND  HILLS,  BAT- 
TLE 0(F,  or  RULLION 
ORBEN,  where  in  1666 
General  Dalzlel  dafeatea 
the  Galloway  Cameronians 

PERDU,  hidden 

PICKLE,  a  small  quan- 
tity,  little   Mt 

PINNDR3  AND  PEARL- 
INGS,  caps  and   lacea 

PIT,   to  put 

PI  r  AND  GALLOWS, 
PRIVILI3GB  OF,  tlie 
right  to  inflict  capital 
punishment — ^to  drown 
women  In  a  pit  and  to 
hang  men  on  a  gallows 

PLACK.   l-3d   penny 

PL.ENISHING.  furnishing 

PLBUGH-PAIDLE.   a  Stick 
for   clearing   earth   from 
the  1  lough 
POOKMANTLE,      portman- 
teau 
POCK-PUDDING,  a  Scotch- 
man's contemptuous   epi- 
thet for  an   Englishman 
PORT  ROYAL,  the  port  of 

Kingston  in  Jamaica 
POSE,     a,     secret     hoard, 

treasure 
POUSS,   to  push 
PU',  to  pull 
PULE,  a  pool 
PUNIC5H.       THE       DEVIL, 
AND    THE    BAKER,    an 
ftUnslon    to    the    popular 
ptn^^et-plays  of  the  day 


FUND  SCOTS,  Is.  8d. 
QUAIGH.     shallow     drink- 

ingeup 
QUEAN,   &  young  woman 

RACE  OP  DUNBAR.      See 

Dunbar 

RANDY.  RANDIE,  a  scold, 
beggar,  disorderly,  va- 
grant 

RAPLOCH,  coarse,  undyed 
homespun 

RAX,    to  stretch,   reach 

RPDDER.  an  adviser,  set- 
tler of  disputes,  peace- 
maker 

REEK,    smoke 

REIVING,   thieving 

REiNT-MAIL,  a  pleonasm 
for  rent 

RESET,  to  harbour,  enter- 
tain 

RIG.  a  ridge  of  land;  field 

RIPE,    to   search,    examine 

ROUND,   to  whisper 

ROUT,   to  bellow 

ROW,    to   roll,    wrap 

RUE,  TO  TAKE  THE,  to 
rue,  repent  a  proposal, 
intention 

RUGGING,  pulling,  scuf- 
fling 

RUGLEN,  Rutherglen,  on 
the  Clyde,  2  miles  from 
Glasgow 

RUTHVEN,  SIR  PAT- 
RICK, sometime  gov- 
ernor of  Ulm,  on  the 
Danube,  afterwards  Earl 
of  Forth   and   Branford 

SAE,   so 

ST.  JOHNSTONETS  TIP- 
PET,   a  halter 

SAIR,   sore,   very 

SAN  BENITOS,  robes  worn 
by  the  victims  of  the  In- 
quisition, and  cut  like 
those  worn  by  the  monks 
of  St.  Benedict  (San 
Benito) 

SANOTUM  SANCTORUM, 
holy  of  holies,  a  very 
jealously  kept  apartment 

SARK,    a  shirt 

SAUT,   salt 

SOAFP  AND  RAFT,  tag- 
rag  and   bobtail 

SCALED,  cleaned  the  In- 
side of  a  cannon  by  fir- 
ing a  small  charge  from 
It 

SCAUR,   a  steep  tank 

SCOTS  MILE,  nearly  9 
furlongs 

SCOTS  SHILLINGS, 
equivalent  to  English 
pennies 

aOREBD,  a  long  harangue 

SCUDERI,  or  SCUDERY, 
MDLLE.  DE,  an  arai'able 
but  long-winded  and  ex- 
travagant writer  of  ro- 
mances. Grand  Cyrus  (10 
vols.,  "  1649-53).  etc., 
which  enjoyed  great 
popularity  in  their  day 

SETS,  hecomea,  suita 


SHAMBNA.       A  r  •       a  •  t 

ashamed 
SHAMOY,   chamol« 
SHAW.       a      wood,       flat 
ground  at  the  bottom  of 
a  hill 
SliEELING-HILL,  a  moupd 
where  grain  was  shelled 
•r  winnowed   by  hand  in 
the  open  air 
SHEFFIE.LD,    JOHN,   Duke 
O  t  Buckinghamshire, 

commanded  a  force  seat 
in  1680  to  the  relief  of 
Tangier,^  then  an  Eng- 
lish osses'sion  and  be- 
sieged by  the  Moors 
SHILLINGS,   SCOTS,  equal 

to  English  pennies 
SIEUR  D'URFE,  author  o( 
Astree     and     other     ro- 
mances 
SILENCE.    MASTER.     See 

Master  Silence 
SINGLE   CARRITCH.    Sin- 
gle or  Shorter  Catechism 
of    the    Church    of    Scot- 
land 
SINGLE    SODGER.    «   pri- 
vate soldier 
SIN'  SYNE,  since 
SKAITH,   harm 
SKEBL,  skill 

SKEELY,  knowing,  skilful 
SKELLIE,  to  squint 
SKDLPING.  beating, 
thrashing;  trotting,  can- 
tering 
SKINKER.  one  who  serves 

out  liquor 
SKIRL,   to  scream 
SKIRL-IN-THB-PAN,  a  fry 
SO.MEGATE,  somehow 
SORN,  to  demand  bed  and 

board,  sponge  on 
SORT,    to    arrange,    make 

tidy  and  clean 
SOUGH,  a  whistling  sound, 
sigh;     to     sigh;     CALM 
SOUGH,  an  easy  mind,  « 
quiet  tongue 
SOUP,  a  spoonful 
SOUTERS,  shoemakers 
SOWENS,   a  sort  of  flum- 
mery made  of  oatmeal 
SPANG,  to  spring,   leap 
9PEEL.   to  scramble,  slid* 
SPEBR,   to  Inquire,  ask 
SPENCE,  a  pantry,  larder 
STAP,  to  push,  cram 
STARKLY,  strongly,  stout- 
ly 
STAW.  to  surfeit 
STBEK.   STEIEKIT,  shut 
STE:ER,    to  disturb.   Inter- 

fere  with 
STILTS   (OF  A  PLOUGH), 

handles 
STING    AND    LINO,    en- 
tirely 
STIR,  sir 

'STONE  WALLS  DO  NOT,* 
FOUR  FOUR 

etc..    from  Lovelace's  Te 
Althea 
STOT.    a  bullock 
8T0UP,  a  llguid  neasora 


138 


WAVERLET  NOVELS 


VrOUIt,   aonfllct.   strlf« 

CraUR-LOOKING,  gruft- 
lookins.  augers,  surly- 
looking 

STRAFPIxa    UP,    hanging 

STRjAUGHT.  or 
STRAUCHT,    straight 

STRAVBN.  or  STRAT- 
HAVEN,  a  town  some  16 
miles  south  of  Glasgow 

ffrUDBv  hesiiated;  STAND, 
hesitate,    shrink   from 

SULiDNA.    rtiould   not 

SUNE  AS  SYNE,  the 
sooner    the    better 

SUNK,   a  cushion  of  »traw 

SWEAI,  (OF  A  CANDLE), 
to  melt  and  run  down 

SYBO,  «  young  onion 

SYKE.  a  streamlet  dry  In 
summer 

SYNE,  slnc«,  Ago 

TAS6.   a  i^ass,   cup 

TAWPIE,  an  awkward  girl 

TENT,  care:  TAK  TENT, 
take  care,  heed 

TBUGH,    tough 

•niACK  AND  RAPE,  tight 
in,  well  cared  for,  at- 
tended to,  like  a  farm- 
er's well-thatched  stacks 

THE^KING,  thatch,  roof 

THOWLBSS.  sluggish.  In- 
active 

THRANO,  thronged,  busy 

THRAPPLB.  throat 

THRAW.  to  thwart 

THREEP,  aver  stoutly,  as- 
sert 

THUMBIKINS.  a  contri- 
vance for  torturing  the 
hands 

TIRAILLBUR,  sharpshooter 

TIRL,  to  strip,  strip  •ff 

TITTIE,  sister 

TOUZLK,  to  di»ord«r 

TOW  •  rope 


TOWER  OP  THB  BAS3. 
the  Bass  Rock,  at  thQ 
entrance  to  the  Firth  of 
Forth.  In  its  dungeons 
many  Covenanters  were 
imprisoned  during  the 
reigns  of  Charles  II.  and 
James  IL 

TOWN,  a  country  house, 
with  its  farm,  cotUges, 
and  other  dependencies. 
See  Note  13,   p.  416 

TOY,  a  woman's  linen  or 
woollen  headdress  hang- 
ing over  the  shoulders 

TRAGEDY,  ONLY  SCOT- 
T  I  S  H  ,  John  Home' s 
Douglas^   In  Act  I.  Sc.  1 

TRIOK-TRACK,  a  kind  of 
backgammom 

TRYSTED.   tried,  afflicted 

TWA,    two 

TWAL,  twelve 

UMQUIHILB,  deceased. 
late 

UNGB,    ounc* 

UNOO,  uncommon,  strange, 
queer-looking 

UNITED  STATES,  the 
United  Provinces  of  the 
Netherlands 

'jP-BYB,  up,  up  yonder 

UPTAKE,  UPTAK.  AT 
THB,  at  catching  up  the 
meaning 

VANE.  STR  HARRY,  the 
republican,  chief  com- 
missioner for  treating 
with   the  Scots  in  1643 

VIVERS,  victuaU 


WAD,   would 
WAB.    sorry 
WAiLLIE,    a    ralet 
WAIIE,   belly,    stomach 
WAN.  get^  rsftCbH 


WARE,   to  spend 

WASSAIL,    ale 
WATSIR,       DOWN       THB, 
down  the  valley; 

WATBR-SIDE,     the     en- 
tire district,  valley 

WATiER-BROO,  broth, 

water  in  v  hlch  meat  has 
been  boiled 

WAU'3«T.    a  draught 

WAUR,    worse 

WER3H,    tasteless,    insipid 

W3STPORT.  the  western 
gate  of  Edinburgh,  oo 
which  the  heads  of  crim- 
inals and  traitors  were 
exposed 

WHATS  YOUR  WULL? 
wihat's  your  will?  what 
do  you  want? 

WHEDN,    a   few 

WHIG  AWA,  to  Jog  on, 
move  at  an  easy,  steady 
pace 

WHILE:e,  sometimes,  occa- 
sionally 

WHILLY-WHA,  'Wheedling, 
cajolery 

WHIRRY,    to  hurry,    whir 

WIN,    to  get,   reach,   begin 

WINDBLSTRAE,  bent- 

grass 

WINNOCK,   a  window 

WOODLL,   a  halter 

WUD,  mad;  CLEAN 
WUD,  Bbark  mad 

WUNNA  WANT,  will  not 
go  with 

WYTE,    blame  1 

YAIRD,    YARD,   a  cottag* 

garden 
YILL,   YELL,  ale 
YOKING,  the  time  a  hors» 

is  in  yoke 
YOKIT,    yoked,    fastened 
TULB      BVB,       ChristaM 

£y0 


INDEX 


A-DVERSiTT,  and  Scotch  character,  4 

Alison.    See  Wilson 

Allan,  Major,  117 ;    his  advice  before 

Drumclog,  148 
Apparitions,  348,  414 
Archbishop  of  St.  Andrews.    See  Sharp 
Army,  royal,  in  Scotland,  264,  27C 
Artamenes,  romance  by  Scuderi,  106 
Author,  on  Old  Mortality,  9  ;  introduc- 
tion to  the  novel,  ix 

Balfour  of  Burley,  at  Niel  Blane's  30  ; 
throws  Bothwell,  31 ;  sheltered  by 
Morton,  37 ;  in  the  hay-loft  at  Miln- 
wood,  43 ;  his  defence  of  the  Cove- 
nanters, 44 ;  his  guilty  dream,  46 ; 
desires  Morton  to  join  the  Cove- 
nanters, 47  ;  shoots  Comet  Grahame, 
153 ;  his  combat  with  Bothwell,  155 ; 
hindered  from  slcying  Evandale,  165  ; 
his  history,  192 ;  gains  over  Morton, 
195 ;  defends  the  murder  of  Sharp, 
196  ;  his  reasons  for  sending  Morton  to 
Glasgow,  234 ;  quarrels  with  I'ound- 
text,  245  ;  with  Morton,  246  ;  his  wrath 
at  Evandale's  release,  267  ;  defends  the 
bridge  at  Bothwell,  287 ;  is  wounded, 
and  flees,  290 ;  his  letter  to  Morton, 
320 ;  in  the  cave  at  Linklater  Linn, 
380 ;  burns  the  document,  385 ;  his 
challenge  to  Morton,  395 ;  attacks 
Evandale,  392;  his  death,  394;  the 
murderer  of  Archbishop  Sharp,  403  ; 
his  return  to  Scotland,  417  ;  his  grave, 
417 

^llenden,  Edith,  at  the  popinjay  festi- 
val, 14 ;  her  interest  for  the  Head- 
riggs,  63 ;  her  anxiety  about  Morton, 
91 ;  visits  him  a  prisoner,  94 ;  writes 
to  Mayor  Bellenden,  100  ;  on  the  bar- 
tizan, 105  ;  begs  Evandale  to  intercede 
for  Morton,  119  ;  her  rival  suitors,  123  ; 
her  distress  on  hearing  Morton  has 
joined  the  rebels,  218 ;  sets  out  for 
Edinburgh,  257 ;  her  conversation 
with  Morton  on  the  way,  258 ;  Cuddie 
tells  Morton  of  her  betrothal  to  Evan- 
dale, 329  ;  her  sudden  arrival  at  Fairy 
Knowe.  336  ;  her  interview  with  Evan- 
dale, a38  ;  startled  by  the  sigh,  342  ; 
sees  the  "  apparition  "  of  Morton,  344  ; 
urges  Evandale  not  to  join  the  insur- 
rection. 390  ;  her  grief  at  his  death, 
894  ;  her  marriage,  397 

Bellenden,  Lady  Margaret,  at  the  popin- 
jay  festival,  14 ;  costs  and  rewards  of 


:  his  preparations  for  de- 
138  ;  detains  Evandale,  216; 


m 


her  loyalty,  16 ;  holds  an  Inveitlgatlon 
54  ;  dismisses  Mause  and  Cuddie,  58 ; 
receives  Bothwell  and  the  soldiers,  84 ; 
her  story  oi  the  king's  breakfast,  104  ; 
welcomes  Ma'or  Bellenden,  104  ;  aska 
for  a  coiamis^on  for  Bothwell,  113 ; 
intercedes  lor  Morton's  Ufe,  128 ;  re- 
solvcc  to  defend  the  Tower,  180;  shel- 
ters Lord  Evandale,  M'ounded,  213; 
leaves  for  Edinburgh,  257  ;  her  letter 
urging  Edith  to  marry  Evandale,  340 ; 
her  care  for  Evandale's  comfort,  889  ; 
consents  to  Edith  marrying  Morton, 
397 

Bellenden,  Mafor,  riads  Edith's  letter, 
102 ;  pleads  ior  Morton's  release,  115 ; 
entrusted  with  the  defence  of  Tillie- 
tudlem,  1; 
fence,  181, 
his  indignation  on  hearing  Morton  is 
with  the  Covenanters,  221,  226;  his 
meeting  with  Langcale,  223 :  refuses 
to  surrender,  226 ;  evacuates  the 
Tower,  257  ;  his  death,  331 

Bellum  Bothwellianum,  quoted,  408 

Black  Book,  Claverhouse's,  306 

Blane,  Jenny,  26,  364 

Blane,  Niel,  piper  and  publican,  25  ;  his 
sage  advice  to  Jenny,  26  ;  placed  be- 
tween two  fires,  188  ;  tells  Morton  the 
news,  865 ;  the  last  of  him,  398 

Boot,  torture  of  the,  317 

Bothwell,  Sergeant,  his  royal  descent, 
26,  84,  402;  thrown  by  Burley,  31; 
enters  Milnwood,  67  ;  applies  the  test 
oath,  70  ;  arrests  Morton,  72  ;  halts  at 
Tillietudlem,81 ;  drinks  with  Harrison, 
87  ;  offer  of  a  commission,  113  ;  hand- 
cuffs Morton,  125 ;  escorts  him  from 
Tillietudlem,  132 ;  makes  a  flank  at- 
tack at  Drumclog,  154 ;  his  combat 
with  Burley,  155 ;  his  death,  157 ;  the 
contents  of  his  pocket-book,  209 

Bothwell  Bridge,  279 ;  battle  of,  284 ; 
revisited  by  Morton,  327;  ballad  on 
battle  of.  411 

Brose,  Cuddie  scalded  with,  229 

Burley,  Balfour  of.    See  Balfour 

Buskbody,  Miss  Martha,  questions  the 
Author,  395 


Caerlavrock,  xvi 
Cameron,  Richard,  418,  414 
Cameronians,  xiii ;  Old  Mortality  an  ad« 
herent  of,  59.    See  cUso  Covenanters 


424 


WAVEELEY  NOVELS 


Captain  of  the  Popinjay,  13;  Henry 
Morton  as,  21 

Carmichael,  sheriff  of  Fife,  403 

Carriage,  nobleman's,  in  time  of  Charles 
II.,  18 

Catechism,  Shorter,  827 

Charles  II.,  his  breakfast  at  Tillietud- 
lem,  16,  22 

Claverhouse,  his  horse,  108, 407 ;  descrip- 
tion of,  111 ;  refuses  to  liberate  Mor- 
ton, 116, 128 ;  condemns  him  to  be  shot, 
127;  listens  to  Evandale's  petition, 
180 ;  calls  his  officers  together  before 
Drumclog,  147 ;  at  tbe  battle  of  Drum- 
clog,  153  ;  his  retreat,  158, 164  ;  returns 
to  Tillietudlem,  184 ;  his  sorrow  at 
his  nephew's  death,  185;  leaves  the 
dragoons  at  Tillietudlem,  187  ;  driven 
out  of  Glasgow,  257 ;  offers  his  protec- 
tion to  Morton,  278  ;  gives  no  quarter 
at  Bothwell  Bridge,  289  ;  rescues  Mor- 
ton from  the  Cameronians,  298;  his 
observations  on  death,  301 ;  conveys 
the  Cameronian  prisoners  to  Edin- 
burgh, 304 ;  reads  from  the  Black 
Book,  306  ;  accompanies  Morton  to 
Leith,  819 ;  his  history  as  Viscount 
Dundee,  323,  327  ;  Lady  Elphinstoun's 
double  pun  on,  406 ;  proof  against 
shot,  407 ;  his  letter  to  Lord  Linlith- 
gow, 410 ;  Dundee's  Letters,  quoted, 
410,  415 

Cleishbotham,  Jedediah,  his  peroration, 
399  ;  notes  by,  401 

Clock  scene,  the  Cameronians  and 
Morton,  295 

Clyde,  view  of,  106  ;  swum  by  Morton, 
351  ;  death  of  Burley  in,  393 

Clydesdale,  upper  ward  of,  12, 106 

Common  Prayer,  Book  of,  hated  by  the 
Covenanters,  297 

Concealment  of  the  face,  405 

Cooper  Climent,  story  of,  xvi 

Covenant,  Burley's  defence  of,  45;  Cove- 
nanters' zeal  for,  324 

Covenanters,  their  tombs  at  Gander- 
cleugh,  3  ;  hostility  to  the  Stewarts, 
11 ;  at  Drumclog,  145,  168;  disunions 
among,  169,  193,  198,  238,  266,  279,  408  ; 
takes  counsel  after  Drumclog,  201 ; 
their  leaders  in  council,  212,  269  ;  ap- 
proach Tillietudlem,  222;  attack  it, 
227 ;  overrun  Glasgow,  237 ;  day  of 
humiliation  before  Bothwell  Bridge, 
280;  led  into  Edinburgh,  309;  their 
hatred  of  toleration,  320 ;  policy  under 
William  III.,  324 ;  their  gibbet,  411  ; 
exposure  of  their  heads,  414  ;  retreats 
of,  416  ;  predictions  of,  416 

Craignethan  Castle,  106,  406 

Crichope  Linn,  879,  416 

Cuddle.    See  Headrigg,  Cuddle 

Dalzell,  General,  as  lieutenant-gen- 
eral, 264  ;  description  of,  274  ;  at  Both- 
well  Bridge,  289  ;  his  inhumanity,  815, 
413  ;  his  history,  412 

Death,  Claverhouse's  reflections  on,  801 

Defoe,  his  History  of  Apparitions, 
quoted,  414 

Dennlson,  Jenny,  enumerates  her  sweet- 
hearts, 90 ;  persuades  Halliday  to  let 


her  and  Edith  pass,  94;  offers  her 
plaid  to  Morton,  97 ;  her  opinion  of 
Evandale  and  of  Morton,  123 ;  tells 
Edith  that  Morton  and  Cuddie  have 
joined  the  Covenanters,  218 ;  scalds 
Cuddie  with  the  brose,  231  ;  steals  out 
from  the  garrison,  249 ;  her  adieu  to 
Cuddie,  362 ;  her  conversation  with  the 
stranger  (Morton),  827 ;  altercation 
with  Cuddie  about  him,  333  ;  last  news 
of,  896 

Dick,  John,  quoted,  408 

Dinner,  locking  the  door  during,  66,  404 

Doomster  of  court,  318 

Drumclog,  battlefield,  145 ;  battle  of, 
153,  408 

Duke,  the,  his  carriage,  13 

Dundee,  Viscount.    See  Claverhouse 

Dunnottar  Castle,  Old  Mortality's  visit 
to,  ix 

Edinburgh,  entry  of  Covenanter  pris- 
oners into,  309 

Elphinstoun,  Lady,  her  pun  on  Claver- 
house, 406 

Evandale,  Lord,  shoots  at  the  popinjay, 
20  ;  arrives  at  Tillietudlem,  114  ;  asked 
by  Edith  to  intercede  for  Morton,  119 ; 
his  relations  with  Edith,  123  ;  obtains 
Morton's  reprieve,  130;  counsels  a 
treaty  at  Drumclog,  149 ;  charges  the 
Covenanters,  153;  his  life  saved  by 
Morton,  165  ;  his  portmanteau  found 
by  Cuddie,  208  ;  reaches  Tillietudlem 
wounded,  213 ;  meets  Langcale,  223 ; 
condemned  to  death  by  the  Cove- 
nanters, 248  ;  released  by  Morton,  253 ; 
agrees  to  present  Morton's  petition, 
254;  quells  the  mutiny  in  Tillietudlem, 
255 ;  escorts  the  Bellendens  to  Edin- 
burgh, 257 ;  is  betrothed  to  Edith,  329; 
urges  the  marriage,  339  ;  the  conspi- 
racy against  him,  386  ;  urged  by  Edith 
to  remain  quiet,  391  ;  meets  the  con« 
spirators,  392  ;  is  shot  dead,  893 

Fairy  ICnowe,  326 

Family  servants,  old,  39,  59,  403 

French  invasion,  Peden's  predictions  of, 

417 
Froissart,  beauties  of,  305 
Funeral  charges  of  Old  Mortality,  xv 

Galloway,  scene  of  Old  Mortality^ 
wanderings,  xii,  5 

Gandercleugh,  2 

Geneva  print,  103 

Gilbertscleugh,  Lady  Margaret's  cou- 
sin,  21 

Glasgow,  Covenanters'  attack  on,  237 

Glossary,  419 

Goose  Gibbie,  equipped  for  the  wap- 
penschaw,  15 ;  his  mishap,  23  ;  carries 
Edith's  letter  to  Major  Bellenden,101 ; 
bungles  Morton's  message  to  Evan- 
dale, 390  ;  the  last  of  him,  398 

Grahame,  Cornet,  searches  for  Burley 
at  the  Howflf,  32  ;  carries  the  flag  of 
truce  at  Drumclog,  150  ;  shot  by  Bur- 
ley, 153 ;  maltreatment  of  his  body, 


ley, 
406 


INDEX 


425 


6r«hame  of  Claverhouse.    See  Claver- 

house 
Grand  Cyrut,  Scudery's  romance,  106 
Griereon,  Sir  Robert,  of  Lagg,  301 
Gudyill,  John,  at  the  levy,  15 ;  his  ap- 
proaches to  Bothwell,  87 ;  reads  the 
Geneva   print,  103 ;    talks  with   the 
Major,  103,  178 ;    in  the  gardens  at 
Fairy  Knowe,  336 ;    announces  Calf 
Gibbie,  889  ;  takes  the  credit  of  shoot- 
ing Olif  ant,  897 

Hackston  of  Rathillet,  408 ;  his  entry 

into  Edinburgh,  418 

Halliday,  the  dragoon,  29;  permits 
Jenny  and  Edith  to  pass,  94  ;  reports 
Bothweirs  fall,  157 ;  admits  Evandale 
to  Tillietudlem,  256 ;  brings  the  Black 
Book,  306  ;  sees  Morton's  "  ghost,"  346; 
shoots  Inglis,  393 

Hamilton,  Covenanters'  camp  at,  264 

Hamilton,  Lady  Emily,  837 ;  annoyed 
with  Edith,  348 

Hamilton,  Robert,  of  Preston,  at  Drum- 
clog,  408 

Harrison,  the  steward,  levies  the  Bellen- 
den  retainers,  14 ;  drinks  with  Both- 
well,  87 

Headrigg,  Cuddie,  fails  the  levy,  15; 
shoots  at  the  popinjay,  19  ;  expostu- 
lates  with  his  mother,  59  ;  enters  Mor- 
ton's service,  62 ;  turned  out  from 
Milnwood,  78 ;  a  prisoner  with  Morton, 
133 ;  recounts  his  adventures,  134  ; 
appoints  himself  valet  to  Morton,  138, 
207  ;  pillages  after  the  battle,  207  ;  at- 
tempts to  steal  into  Tillietudlem,  229 ; 
scalded  with  the  brose,  231 ;  brings 
Jenny  before  Morton,  249  ;  his  adieu 
to  Jenny,  262  ;  escapes  from  the  Cove- 
nanters, 292 ;  described  in  the  Black 

;.  Book,  306  ;  refuses  to  "  testify,"  312  ; 
before  the  privy  council,  314 ;  ques- 
tioned by  the  stranger  (Morton),  327  ; 
altercation  with  Jenny  about  him, 
333  ;  his  subsequent  history,  396 

Headrigg,  Mause,  visited  by  Lady 
Margaret,  55;  expelled  from  Tillie- 
tudlem, 58 ;  "  testifies  "  at  Milnwood, 
73 ;  uplifts  her  voice  on  the  way  to 
D r u m cl o g,  139  ;  chides  Kettle- 
drummle,  16! ;  her  exultation  at  the 
victory,  163 ;  urges  Cuddie  to  "  tes- 
tify," 812 

Highlanders,  in  the  royal  army,  264, 
1^3  ;  at  Bothwell  Bridge,  287 

Hill-men.    See  Cameronians 

Holland,  Morton  in,  858 

Howff,  the  Piper's  inn,  25,  862 

Howie  of  Lochgoin,  quoted,  407,  409, 
412.    See  also  Scots  Worthies 

Indulgence,  85 

Inglis,  Corporal,  left  at  Tillietudlem, 
187 ;  mutinies,  255 ;  plots  against 
Evandale,  886  ;  note  on  Captain  Peter 
Inglis,  415 

"  In  Judah's  land  God  is  well  known,"  146 

Introduction  to  the  novel,  ix 

Itinerant  tradesmen,  9 

KKTTLKDRumcLK,  Cameroni&n  minister, 


134 ;  uplifts  his  voice  on  the  way  to 
Drumclog,  139 ;  hides  behind  the 
cairn,  161  ;  his  sermon  after  Drum- 
clog,  170;  his  disagreement  with 
Poundtext,  199 

Lady's-maids,  and  lying,  262 

Landward  town,  68,  404 

Langcale,  Laird  of,  212  ;  summons  Til- 
lietudlem to  surrender,  223 

Lauderdale,  examines  the  Covenanters, 
813 

League  and  Covenant,  Burlev's  defence 
of,  45  ;  Covenanters'  zeal  for,  324 

Lewis,  Jenkin,  his  Memoirs  of  Frince 
William  Henry,  405 

Life  Guards.  Claverhouses's,  28;  visit 
Milnwood,  67  ;  march  to  Tillietudlem, 
107 ;  at  Drumclog,  145 ;  flight  of,  159, 
164 

Linklater  Linn,  376,  378 

Linlithgow,  Earl  of,  Dundee's  letter  to, 
410 

Loch  Sloy,  the  MacFarlanes'  slogan,  413 

Locking  the  door  during  dinner,  66,  404 

Loudon  Hill,  conventicle  at,  116;  Cud- 
die's  account  of,  134 ;  battle  of,  see 
Drumclog 

Lumley,  Captain,  receives  Morton,  272 

Macbriar,  Ephraim,  the  preacher,  171 ; 
disapproves  of  Morton's  appointment, 
191  ;  condemns  Morton  to  death,  295  ; 
before  the  privy  council,  314  ;  under 
torture,  317 
MacFarlane  clan,  their  war-cry,  412 
Machinery  and  Providence,  58,  404 
Maclure,     Bessie,    warns    Burley,   36 ; 
shelters    Evandale,    216 ;    entertains 
Morton,    369  ;  her  misfortunes,  871 ; 
tells  Morton  about  Burley,  373 
March-dike  boundary,  401 
Marksmen  of  Milnwood.  228,  247 
Memoirs  of  Priyice  William  Henry ^  406 
Military  music,  at  night,  ^,  404 
Milnwood  House,  38  ;  dinner  at,  65  ;  en- 
tered by  the  soldiers,  67  ;  visited  by 
Morton,  243  ;  again,  after  his  return 
from  abroad,  3o4  ;  the  oak  parlor,  360 
Monmouth,  Duke  of,  in  Scotland,  240 ; 
description  of  274  ;  his  interview  with 
Morton,  275 
Moors,  Scottish,  142,  144 
Mortality,  Old.    See  Old  Mortality 
Morton,  Henry,  at  the  popinjay,  20  ;  in- 
sulted by  Bothwell,  80  ;  shelters  Bur- 
ley, 37 ;  conversation  in  the  hayloft, 
44  ;  declines  to  join  the  Covenanters, 
48  ;  his  intention  to  go  abroad,  51  ;  en- 
gages Cuddie  and  Mause,  62 ;  arrested 
by  Bothwell,  72  ;  carried  off  to  Tillie- 
tudlem, 80  ;  visited  by  Edith,  95  ;  his 
character  and  circumstances,  121 ;  his 
affection  for  Edith,  122  ;  handcuffed, 
125  ;  before  Claverhouse,  126  ;  carried 
away  a  prisoner,  133 ;    saves  Evan- 
dale's  life,  165 ;  appointed  captain  of 
the  Covenanters,  190, 200  ;  won  over  by 
Burley,     195;    examines     Bothwell's 
pocketbook,  209  ;  his  letter  to  Major 
Bellenden,  225  ;  hispart in  the  attack 
on  Tillietudlem,  228 ;  despatched  to 


42ft 


fVAVERLET  NOVELS 


Glasgow,  234;  visits  Milnwood,  242; 
dispute  with  Burley,  24(3 ;  interview 
witti  Jenny,  249 ;  releases  Evandale, 
253 ;  conversation  witli  Editii,  258 ; 
urges  moderate  terms,  270  ;  envoy  to 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  271 ;  inter- 
view with  Monmouth,  276 ;  declines 
Claverhouse's  protection,  278;  re- 
turns to  the  Caraeronians,  279  ;  sup- 
posed flight,  287 ;  falls  amongst  the 
fanatics,  292 ;  rescued  by  Claver- 
house,  298;  compares  Claverhouse 
with  Burley,  305 ;  as  described  in 
Claverhouse's  Black  Book,  307  ;  ac- 
cepts the  king's  pardon,  314  ;  goes  to 
Leith,  319  ;  receives  Burley's  letter, 
820;  returns  to  Scotland,  325;  in- 
quires about  the  Bellendens,  330; 
lodges  at  Fairy  Knowe  333  ;  overhears 
Evandale  pleading  with  Edith,  342 ; 
seen  by  Edith,  344  ;  by  Halliday,  346  ; 
his  relations  with  Edith,  349  ;  swims 
the  Clyde,  351 ;  arrives  at  Milnwood, 
853  ;  recognized  by  the  dog  and  Ailie, 
857 ;  sketches  his  career  in  Holland, 
358;  visits  the  Piper's  Howff,  362; 
finds  out  Bessie  Maclure,  369 ;  visits 
Burley  at  Linklater  Linn,  380;  his 
narrow  escape,  385 ;  brings  up  the 
soldiers,  393 ;  his  marriage,  397  ;  sup- 
posed apparition  of,  414 

Morton  of  Milnwood,  49;  chides  his 
nephew,  50 ;  watches  the  appetites  of 
his  servants,  66 ;  his  reluctance  to 
ransom  his  nephew,  73  ;  his  death,  356 

Mucklewrath,  Habakkuk,  rails  against 
peace,  202 ;  incites  the  Cameronians 
to  stone  Morton,  282 ;  cries  out  for 
Morton's  death,  293  ;  summons  Claver- 
house to  God's  tribunal,  301 

Music,  regimental,  42,  404 

Mysie,  Lady  Margaret's  attendant,  104 

Old  Mortality,  history  of,  ix,  xii,  9; 
Author's  meeting  with,  xi ;  at  work,  4 

Old  Mortality,  the  novel,  Author  upon, 
ix 

Old  Testament  language,  used  by  Cove- 
nanters, 170,  191 

Olifant,  Basil,  289  ;  congratulates  Clav- 
erhouse, 307 ;  becomes  a  turncoat, 
332  ;  Burley 's  opinion  of  him,  383 ; 
shot  by  Cuddie,  393 

Paterson,  Robert.    See  Old  Mortality 

Paton,  Captain  John,  412,  416 

Pattieson,  Peter,  of  Gandercleugh,  1 ; 
his  grave,  401 

Peden,  Alexander,  his  prophecy,  7,  417 

Peroration,  399 

Pike,  Gideon,  the  Major's  servant,  103 

Piper's  Howff,  25,  362 

Pit  and  gallows,  privilege  of,  177 

Popinjay,  festival  of,  18,  401 ;  shooting 
at,  IS 

Poundtext,  Rev.  Mr.,  controversy  with 
Macbriar,  199  ;  counsels  the  razing  of 
TilUetudlem,  201  ;  accompanies  Mor- 
ton home,  241  ;  at  his  own  house,  244  ; 
opposes  Burley,  245  ;  not  representa- 
tive of  Presbyterians,  411 

breaching  after  Drumclog,  170 


Presbyterians,  Moderate,  and  the  Indul* 
gence,  35 ;  disown  tlie  murder  of 
Archbishop  Sharp,  193  ;  their  memor. 
ial  to  government,  247 ;  Robert  Ham* 
ilton  on,  412 

Privy  council,  trial  of  Cameronians  be- 
fore, 313 

Proof  against  shot,  407,  412 

Prophet's  chamber,  8,  401 

Providence  and  machinery,  58,  404 

Psalm,  quavering,  before  Bothwell 
Bridge,  285 

Purse,  throwing  of,  over  the  gate,  404 

QuEENSBERRY,  Duke  of ,  404 

Retreats  of  the  Covenanters,  416 
Romances  of  the  17th  century,  17, 405 

St.  Andrews,  Archbishop  of.    See  Sharp 
Salmon,  and  Scottish  servamts,  65 
Schoolmaster,  life  of,  1 
Scotch  character,  improved  by  adver* 

sity,  4 
Scot  of  Scotstarvet,  quoted,  402 
Scots  Worthies,  quoted,  403,  416,  417 
Scriptural    language   of  Covenanters, 

170,  191 
Scudery,  romance  writer,  106 
Semple,  Gabriel,  prophecy  of,  417 
Sermons,  after  Drumclog,  170 
Servants,  Scotch,  39,  65,  403 
Sharp,  Archbishop,  assassination  of,  82 ; 

opinions  about,  195 ;   murderers  of, 

403 
Shot  proof  against,  407,  412 
Smugglers,  adventure  among,  412 
Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  45,  324 
Somervilles,  Memoir  of,  quoted,  401 
Stewart,  Francis.    See  Bothwell 
Stewarts,  their  anti-Puritan  policy,  11 
"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make,"  253 

Test  oath,  Bothwell's,  70 

"  They  marched  east  throw  Lithgow- 
town,"  411 

"  This  martyr  was  by  Peter  Inglis  shot,** 
415 

"Thy  hue,  dear  pledge,  is  pure  and 
bright,"  210 

Tillietudlem  Tower,  breakfast  at.  V,  5?2 
described,  82,  406  ;  king's  room  in,  84  ; 
Whigs'  dungeon  in,  86  ;  view  from  its 
turrets,  106 ;  preparations  for  the 
siege,  179,  181,  188  ;  attacked  by  the 
Covenanters,  227 ;  extremities  of  the 
garrison,  243,  250 ;  evacuated,  257 

Toleration,  hateful  to  the  Covenanters, 
820 

Tombs  of  the  Covenanters,  8 

Torture,  Covenanters  under,  8lv  • 
wooden  mare,  405 

Train,  Joseph,  his  communications  to 
the  Author,  xii 

Turner,  Sir  James,  405 

Walker,  Rev,  Mr.,  of  Dunnottar,  ix; 

visits  Dumfries,  x 
Wappenschaws,  in  Scotland,  IS 
Whigs.    See  Covenanters 
Whigs*  Yault,  at  Dunnottar,  z 


INDEX 


m 


"WiJliam  of  Orange,  effects  of  his  acces- 
sion in  Scotland,  323 ;  reception  of 
Morton  in  Holland,  358 

W\'«son,  Ailie,  rates  Morton,  39  ;  tries  to 
help  him,  72 ;  her  indignation  against 
Mause,  78  welcomes  Morton   home, 


243 ;  tells  him  of  the  extremities  at 
Tillietudlem,  243  ;  reception  of  Morton- 
354  ;  recognizes  him,  357  ;  her  care  of 
Milnwood,  360,  398 
Winnowing  machine,  58,  404 
Wooden  mare,  a  punishment,  406 


TALES    OF    MY    LANDLORD 


Hear,  Land  o'  Cakes  and  brither  Scots, 
Frae  Maidenkirk  to  Johnny  Groat's, 
If  there's  a  hole  in  a'  your  coats, 

I  rede  ye  tent  it ; 
A  chiePs  amang  you  takin'  notes, 

An'  faith  he'll  prent  it ! 

Burns. 


ATioru  bien,  dixo  il  Cura,  traedme,  senot  huesped,  aquesos  libros, 
que  los  quiero  ver.  Que  me  place,  respondio  el,  y  entrando  en  su 
aposento,  saco  del  una  maletilla  vieja  cerrada  con  una  cddenilla,  y 
ahriendola  hallo  en  ella  tres  libros  grandes  y  unos  papeles  de  muy 
huena  letra  escritos  de  mano. — Don  Quixote,  Parte  I.,  Capitulo 


It  is  mighty  well,  said  the  priest ;  pray,  landlord,  bring  me  those 
books,  for  I  have  a  mind  to  see  them.  With  all  my  heart,  answered 
the  host ;  and  going  to  his  chamber,  he  brought  out  a  little  old 
cloke-bag,  with  a  padlock  and  chain  to  it,  and  opening  it,  he  took 
out  three  large  volumes,  and  some  manuscript  papers  written  in  a 
fino  character. — Jab  vis's  Translation, 


TALES  OF  MY  LANDLORD 

COLLECTED  AND  REPORTED  BY 

JEDEDIAH   CLEISHBOTHAM, 

SCBOOLMASTKR    AND    PARISH-GLKBX    OF   OANDSaCLEUOM 

INTRODUCTION 

As  I  may,  without  vanity,  presume  that  the  name  and  official 
description  prefixed  to  this  Proem  will  secure  it,  from  the 
sedate  and  reflecting  part  of  mankind,  to  whom  only  I  would 
be  understood  to  address  myself,  such  attention  as  is  due  to 
the  sedulous  instructor  of  youth  and  the  careful  performer  of 
my  Sabbath  duties,  I  will  forbear  to  hold  up  a  candle  to  the 
daylight,  or  to  point  out  to  the  judicious  those  recommenda- 
tions of  my  labors  which  they  must  necessarily  anticipate 
from  the  perusal  of  the  title-page.  Nevertheless,  I  am  not 
unaware  that  as  Envy  always  dogs  Merit  at  the  heels,  there 
may  be  those  who  will  whisper  that,  albeit  my  learning  and 
good  principles  cannot  (lauded  be  the  heavens  !)  be  denied  by 
any  one,  yet  that  my  situation  at  Gandercleugh  hath  b«en 
more  favorable  to  my  acquisitions  in  learning  than  to  the  en- 
largement of  my  views  of  the  ways  and  works  of  the  present 
generation.  To  the  which  objection,  if,  peradventure,  any 
such  shall  be  started,  my  answer  shall  be  threefold : 

First,  Gandercleugh  is,  as  it  were,  the  central  part — the 
navel  {si  fas  sit  dicere) — of  this  our  native  realm  of  Scot- 
land ;  so  that  men  from  every  comer  thereof,  when  travelling 
on  their  concernments  of  business,  either  towards  our  metrop- 
olis of  law,  by  which  I  mean  Edinburgh,  or  towards  our 
metropolis  and  mart  of  gain,  whereby  I  insinuate  Glasgow, 
are  frequently  led  to  make  Gandercleugh  their  abiding  stage 
and  place  of  rest  for  the  night.     And  it  must  be  acknowl- 


X  WAVERLEV  NOVELS 

edged  by  the  most  sceptical  that  I,  who  have  sat  in  the 
leathern  arm-chair,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  fire,  in  the 
common  room  of  the  Wallace  Inn,  winter  and  summer,  for 
every  evening  in  my  life,  during  forty  years  bypast  (the 
Christian  Sabbaths  only  excepted),  mus.  have  seen  more  of 
the  manners  and  customs  of  various  tribes  and  people  than  if 
I  had  sought  them  out  by  my  own  painful  travel  and  bodily 
labor.  Even  so  doth  the  toll-man  at  the  well-frequented  turn- 
pike on  the  Wellbrae  head,  sitting  at  his  ease  in  his  own 
dwelling,  gather  more  receipt  of  custom  than  if,  moving  forth 
upon  the  road,  he  were  to  require  a  contribution  from  each 
person  whom  he  chanced  to  meet  in  his  journey,  when,  ac- 
cording to  the  vulgar  adage,  he  might  possibly  be  greeted 
with  more  kicks  than  halfpence. 

But,  secondly,  supposing  it  again  urged,  that  Ithacus,  the 
most  wise  of  the  Greeks,  acquired  his  renown,  as  the  Roman 
poet  hath  assured  us,  by  visiting  states  and  men,  I  reply  to 
the  Zoilus  who  shall  adhere  to  this  objection,  that,  de  facto,  I 
have  seen  states  and  men  also  ;  for  I  have  visited  the  famous 
cities  of  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  the  former  twice  and  the 
latter  three  times,  in  the  course  of  my  earthly  pilgrimage. 
And,  moreover,  I  had  the  honor  to  sit  in  the  General  Assem- 
bly (meaning,  as  an  auditor,  in  the  galleries  thereof),  and 
have  heard  as  much  goodly  speaking  on  the  law  of  patronage 
as,  with  the  fructification  thereof  in  mine  own  understanding, 
hath  made  me  be  considered  as  an  oracle  upon  that  doctrine 
ever  since  my  safe  and  happy  return  to  Gandercleugh. 

Again,  and  thirdly.  If  it  be  nevertheless  pretended  that 
my  information  and  knowledge  of  mankind,  however  exten- 
sive, and  however  painfully  acquired,  by  constant  domestic 
inquiry  and  by  foreign  travel,  is,  natheless,  incompetent  to 
the  task  of  recording  the  pleasant  narratives  of  my  Landlord, 
I  will  let  these  critics  know,  to  their  own  eternal  shame  and 
confusion,  as  well  aS  to  the  abashment  and  discomfiture  of  all 
who  shall  rashly  take  up  a  song  against  me,  that  I  am  kot 
the  writer,  redactor,  or  compiler,  of  the  Tales  of  my  Land- 
lord ;  nor  am  I,  in  one  single  iota,  answerable  for  their  con- 
tents, more  or  less.  And  now,  ye  generation  of  critics,  who 
raise  themselves  up  as  if  it  were  brazen  serpents,  to  hiss  with 
your  tongues  and  to  smite  with  your  stings,  bow  yourselves 
down  to  your  native  dust  and  acknowledge  that  yours  have 
been  the  thoughts  of  ignorance  and  the  words  of  vain  foolish- 
ness. Lo  1  ye  are  caught  in  your  own  snare,  and  your  own 
pit  hath  yawned  for  you.  Turn,  then,  aside  from  the  task 
that  is  too  heavy  for  you  ;  destroy  not  your  teeth  by  gnawing 


INTRODUCTION  TO  TALES  OF  MY  LANDLORD       xi 

/I  file  ;  waste  not  your  strength  by  spurning  against  a  castle 
wall ;  nor  spend  your  breath  in  contending  in  swiftness 
with  a  fleet  steed  ;  and  let  those  weigh  the  Tales  of  my  Land- 
lord who  shall  bring  with  them  the  scales  of  candor  cleansed 
from  the  rust  of  prejudice  by  the  hands  of  intelligent  modesty. 
For  these  alone  they  were  compiled,  as  will  appear  from  a  brief 
narrative  which  my  zeal  for  truth  compelled  me  to  make  sup- 
plementary to  the  present  Proem. 

It  is  well  known  that  my  Landlord  was  a  pleasing  and  a 
facetious  man,  acceptable  unto  all  the  parish  of  Gandercleugh 
excepting  only  the  Laird,  tlie  Exciseman,  and  those  for  whom 
he  refused  to  draw  liquor  upon  trust.  Their  causes  of  dislike 
I  will  touch  separately,  adding  my  own  refutation  thereof. 

His  honor,  the  Laird,  accused  our  Landlord,  deceased,  of 
having  encouraged,  in  various  times  and  places,  the  destruc- 
tion of  hares,  rabbits,  fowls,  black  and  gray,  partridges, 
moor-pouts,  roe-deer,  and  other  birds  and  quadrupeds,  at 
unlawful  seasons,  and  contrary  to  the  laws  of  this  realm,  which 
have  secured,  in  their  wisdom,  the  slaughter  of  such  animals 
for  the  great  of  the  earth,  whom  I  have  remarked  to  take  an 
uncommon  (though  to  me  an  unintelligible)  pleasure  therein. 
Now,  in  humble  deference  to  his  honor,  and  in  justifiable 
defence  of  my  friend  deceased,  I  reply  to  this  charge,  that 
howsoever  the  form  of  such  animals  might  appear  to  be  simi- 
lar to  those  so  protected  by  the  law,  yet  it  wassimeTedeceptio 
visus  ;  for  what  resembled  hares  were,  in  fact,  hill-kids,  and 
those  partaking  of  the  appearance  of  moor-fowl  were  truly 
wood-pigeons,  and  consumed  and  eaten  eo  nomine ,  and  not 
otherwise. 

Again,  the  Exciseman  pretended  that  my  deceased  Land- 
lord did  encourage  that  species  of  manufacture  called  distilla- 
tion, without  having  an  especial  permission  from  the  great, 
technically  called  a  license,  fordoing  so.  Now,  I  stand  up  to 
confront  this  falsehood  ;  and  in  defiance  of  him,  his  gauging- 
stick,  and  pen  and  inkhorn,  I  tell  him,  that  I  never  saw  or 
tasted  a  glass  of  unlawful  aquavitae  in  the  house  of  my  Land- 
lord ;  nay,  that,  on  the  contrary,  we  needed  not  such  devices, 
in  respect  of  a  pleasing  and  somewhat  seductive  liquor  which 
was  vended  and  consumed  at  the  Wallace  Inn  under  the  name 
of  *' mountain  dew.^'  If  there  is  a  penalty  against  manu- 
facturing such  a  liquor,  let  him  show  me  the  statute ;  and 
when  he  does  Fll  tell  him  if  I  will  obey  it  or  no. 

Concerning  those  who  came  to  my  Landlord  for  liquor  and 
went  thirsty  away,  for  lack  of  present  coin  or  future  credit, 
I  cannot  but  say  it  has  grieved  my  bowels  as  M  the  case  had 


xii  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

been  mine  own.  Nevertheless,  my  Landlord  considered  the 
necessities  of  a  thirsty  soul,  and  would  permit  them,  in  ex- 
treme need,  and  when  their  soul  was  impoverished  for  lack 
of  moisture,  to  drink  to  the  full  value  of  their  watches  and 
wearing  apparel,  exclusively  of  their  inferior  habiliments,  which 
he  was  uniformly  inexorable  in  obliging  them  to  retain,  for 
the  credit  of  the  house.  As  to  mine  own  part,  I  may  well 
say  that  he  never  refused  me  that  modicum  of  refreshment 
with  which  I  am  wont  to  recruit  nature  after  the  fatigues  of 
my  school.  It  is  true,  I  taught  his  five  sons  English  and 
Latin,  writing,  book-keeping,  with  a  tincture  of  mathemat- 
ics, and  that  I  instructed  his  daughter  in  psalmody.  Nor 
do  I  remember  me  of  any  fee  or  honorarium  received  from 
him  on  account  of  these  my  labors,  except  the  compotations 
aforesaid.  Nevertheless  this  compensation  suited  my  humor 
well,  since  it  is  a  hard  sentence  to  bid  a  dry  throat  wait  till 
quarter 'day. 

But,  truly,  were  I  to  speak  my  simple  conceit  and  belief, 
I  think  my  Landlord  was  chiefly  moved  to  waive  in  my  be- 
half the  usual  requisition  of  a  symbol  or  reckoning  from  the 
pleasure  he  was  wont  to  take  in  my  conversation,  which, 
though  solid  and  edifying  in  the  main,  was,  like  a  well-built 
palace,  decorated  with  facetious  narratives  and  devices,  tend- 
ing much  to  the  enhancement  and  ornament  thereof.  And 
so  pleased  was  my  Landlord  of  the  Wallace  in  his  replies 
during  such  colloquies,  that  there  was  no  district  in  Scotland, 
yea,  and  no  peculiar,  and,  as  it  were,  distinctive  custom 
therein  practised,  but  was  discussed  betwixt  us ;  insomuch 
that  those  who  stood  by  were  wont  to  say  it  was  worth  a  bottle 
of  ale  to  hear  us  communicate  with  each  other.  And  not  a 
few  travellers  from  distant  parts,  as  well  as  from  the  remote 
districts  of  our  kingdom,  were  wont  to  mingle  in  the  conver- 
sation, and  to  tell  news  that  had  been  gathered  in  foreign 
lands,  or  preserved  from  oblivion  in  this  our  own. 

Now  I  chanced  to  have  contracted  for  teaching  the  lower 
classes  with  a  young  person  called  Peter  or  Patrick  Pattieson, 
who  had  been  educated  for  our  Holy  Kirk,  yea,  had,  by  the 
license  of  presbytery,  his  voice  opened  therein  as  a  preacher, 
who  delighted  in  the  collection  of  olden  tales  and  legends, 
and  in  garnishing  them  with  the  flowers  of  poesy,  whereof  he 
was  a  vain  and  frivolous  professor.  For  he  followed  not  the 
example  of  those  strong  poets  whom  I  proposed  to  him  as  a 
pattern,  but  formed  rersification  of  a  flimsy  and  modem  tex- 
ture, to  the  compounding  whereof  was  necessary  small  pains 
and  less  thought.     And  hence  I  have  chid  him  as  being  one 


INTRODUCTION  TO   TALES  OF  MY  LANDLORD     xiii 

ot  those  who  hring  forward  the  fatal  revolution  prophesied 
by  Mr.  Eobert  Carey,  in  his  vaticination  on  the  death  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  John  Donne  : 

Now  thou  art  gone,  and  thy  strict  laws  will  be 
Too  hard  for  libertines  in  poetry  ; 
Till  verse  (by  thee  refined)  in  this  last  age 
Turn  ballad  rhyme. 

I  had  also  disputations  with  him  touching  his  indulging 
rather  a  flowing  and  redundant  than  a  concise  and  stately 
diction  in  his  prose  exercitations.  But  notwithstanding  these 
symptoms  of  inferior  taste,  and  a  humor  of  contradicting  his 
betters  upon  passages  of  dubious  construction  in  Latin 
authors,  I  did  grievously  lament  when  Peter  Pattieson  was  re- 
moved from  me  by  death,  even  as  if  he  had  been  the  off- 
spring of  my  own  loins.  And  in  respect  his  papers  had  been 
left  in  my  care  (to  answer  funeral  and  death-bed  expenses), 
I  conceived  myself  entitled  to  dispose  of  one  parcel  thereof, 
entitled  ''  Tales  of  my  Landlord,^'  to  one  cunning  in  the 
trade  (as  it  is  called)  of  bookselling.  He  was  a  mirthful 
man,  of  small  stature,  cunning  in  counterfeiting  of  voices, 
and  in  making  facetious  tales  and  responses,  and  whom  I  have 
to  laud  for  the  truth  of  his  dealings  towards  me. 

Now,  therefore,  the  world  may  see  the  injustice  that 
charges  me  with  incapacity  to  write  these  narratives,  seeing 
that,  though  I  have  proved  that  I  could  have  written  them  2 
I  would,  yet,  not  having  done  so,  the  censure  will  deservedly 
fall,  if  at  all  due,  upon  the  memory  of  Mr.  Peter  Pattieson  ; 
whereas  I  must  be  justly  entitled  to  the  praise,  when  any  is 
due,  seeing  that,  as  the  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's  wittily  and  logi- 
cally expresseth  it. 

That  without  which  a  thing  is  not 
Is  causa  sine  qud  non. 

The  work,  therefore,  is  unto  me  as  a  child  is  to  a  parent ;  in 
the  which  child,  if  it  proveth  worthy,  the  parent  hath  honor 
and  praise  ;  but,  if  otherwise,  the  disgrace  will  deservedly  at- 
tach to  itself  alone. 

I  have  only  farther  to  intimate  that  Mr.  Peter  Pattieson, 
in  arranging  these  Tales  for  the  press,  hath  more  consulted 
his  own  fancy  than  the  accuracy  of  the  narrative  ;  nay,  that 
he  hath  sometimes  blended  two  or  three  stories  together  for 
the  mere  grace  of  his  plots.  Of  which  infidelity,  although  I 
disapprove  and  enter  my  testimony  against  it,  yet  I  have  not 
taken  upon  me  to  correct  the  same,  in  respect  it  was  the  will 


adv  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

of  the  deceased  that  his  manuscript  should  be  submitted  to 
the  press  without  diminution  or  alteration.  A  fanciful 
nicety  it  was  on  the  part  of  my  deceased  friend,  who,  if  think- 
ing wisely,  ought  rather  to  have  conjured  me,  by  all  the 
tender  ties  of  our  friendship  and  common  pursuits,  to  have 
carefully  revised,  altered,  and  augmented  at  my  judgment 
and  discretion.  But  the  will  of  the  dead  must  be  scrupu- 
lously obeyed,  even  when  we  weep  over  their  pertinacity  and 
self-delusion.  So,  gentle  reader,  I  bid  you  farewell,  recom- 
mending you  to  such  fare  as  the  mountains  of  your  own 
country  produce ;  and  I  will  only  farther  premise,  that  each 
Tale  is  preceded  by  a  short  introduction,  mentioning  the  per- 
sons by  whom,  and  the  circumstances  under  which,  the 
materials  thereof  were  collected. 

Jedediah  Cleishbotham. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  BLACK  DWARF 


The  ideal  being  who  is  here  presented  as  residing  in  solitude, 
and  haunted  by  a  consciousness  of  his  own  deformity  and  a 
suspicion  of  his  being  generally  subjected  to  the  scorn  of  his 
fellow-men,  is  not  altogether  imaginary.  An  individual 
existed  many  years  since,  under  the  Author's  observation, 
which  suggested  such  a  character.  This  poor  unfortunate 
man's  name  was  David  Ritchie,  a  native  of  Tweeddale.  He 
was  the  son  of  a  laborer  in  the  slate-quarries  of  Stobo,  and 
must  have  been  born  in  the  misshapen  form  which  he  exhib- 
ited, though  he  sometimes  imputed  it  to  ill-usage  when  in 
infancy.  He  was  bred  a  brush-maker  at  Edinburgh,  and 
had  wandered  to  several  places,  working  at  his  trade,  from 
all  which  he  was  chased  by  the  disagreeable  attention  whioh 
his  hideous  singularity  of  form  and  face  attracted  wherever 
he  came.  The  Author  understood  him  to  say  he  had  even 
been  in  Dublin. 

Tired  at  length  of  being  the  object  of  shouts,  laughter, 
and  derision,  David  Ritchie  resolved,  like  a  deer  hunted 
from  the  herd,  to  retreat  to  some  wilderness,  where  he  mi^ht 
have  the  least  possible  communication  with  the  world  which 
scoffed  at  him.  He  settled  himself,  with  this  view,  upon  a 
patch  of  wild  moorland  at  the  bottom  of  a  bank  on  the  farm 
of  Woodhouse,  in  the  sequestered  vale  of  the  small  river 
Manor,  in  Peebleshire.  The  few  people  who  had  occasion 
to  pass  that  way  were  much  surprised,  and  some  superstitious 
persons  a  little  alarmed,  to  see  so  strange  a  figure  as  Bowed 
Davie  {i.e.  Crooked  David)  employed  in  a  task  for  which  he 
seemed  so  totally  unfit  as  that  of  erecting  a  house.  The  cot- 
tage which  he  built  was  extremely  small,  but  the  walls,  as 
well  as  those  of  a  little  garden  that  surrounded  it,  were  con- 
structed with  an  ambitious  degree  of  solidity,  being  com- 
posed of  layers  of  large  stones  and  turf ;  and  some  of  the 
corner  stones  were  so  weighty  as  to  puzzle  the  spectators 
how  such  a   person  as   the    architect  could   possibly    hav« 


INTRODUCTION  TO   THE  BLACK  DWARF         xvii 

raised  them.  In  fact,  David  received  from  passengers, 
or  those  who  came  attracted  by  curiosity,  a  good  deal  of  as- 
sistance ;  and  as  no  one  knew  how  much  aid  had  been  ^iven 
by  others,  the  wonder  of  each  individual  remained  undimin- 
ished. 

The  proprietor  of  the  ground,  the  late  Sir  James  Nasmythe, 
Baronet,  chanced  to  pass  this  singular  dwelling,  which,  having 
been  placed  there  without  right  or  leave  asked  or  given, 
formed  an  exact  parallel  with  Falstaff^s  simile  of  a  **^  fair  house 
built  on  another's  ground  f  so  that  poor  David  might  have 
lost  his  edifice  by  mistaking  the  property  where  he  had  erected 
it.  Of  course,  the  proprietor  entertained  no  idea  of  exacting 
such  a  forfeiture,  but  readily  sanctioned  the  harmless  en- 
croachment. 

The  personal  description  of  Elshender  of  Mucklestane 
Moor  has  been  generally  allowed  to  be  a  tolerably  exact  and 
unexagge rated  portrait  of  David  of  Manor  Water.  He  was 
not  quite  three  feet  and  a  half  high,  since  he  could  stand 
upright  in  the  door  of  his  mansion,  which  was  just  that  height. 
The  following  particulars  concerning  his  figure  and  temper 
occur  in  the  Scots  Magazine  for  1817,  and  are  now  understood 
to  have  been  communicated  by  the  ingenious  Mr.  Robert 
Chambers  of  Edinburgh,  who  has  recorded  with  much  spirit 
the  traditions  of  the  Good  Town,  and,  in  other  publications, 
largely  and  agreeably  added  to  the  stock  of  our  popular 
antiquities.  He  is  the  countryman  of  David  Ritchie,  and  had 
the  best  access  to  collect  anecdotes  of  him. 

**  His  skull,"  says  this  authority,  **  which  was  of  an  oblong  and 
rather  unusual  shape,  was  of  such  strength  that  he  could  strike  it 
with  ease  through  the  panel  of  a  dooror  the  end  of  a  tar- barrel.  His 
laugh  is  said  to  have  been  quite  horrible  ;  and  his  screech-owl  voice, 
shrill,  uncouth,  and  dissonant,  corresponded  well  with  his  other 
peculiarities. 

'  *  There  was  nothing  very  uncommon  about  his  dress.  He  usually 
wore  an  old  slouched  hat  when  he  went  abroad  ;  and  when  at  home 
a  sort  of  cowl  or  night-cap.  He  never  wore  shoes,  being  unable  to 
adapt  them  to  his  misshapen  fin-like  feet,  but  always  had  both  feet 
and  legs  quite  concealed,  and  wrapped  up  with  pieces  of  cloth.  He 
always  walked  with  a  sort  of  pole  or  pike-staff,  considerably  taller 
than  himself.  His  habits  were,  in  many  respects,  singular,  and 
indicated  a  mind  congenial  to  its  uncouth  tabernacle.  A  jealous, 
misanthropical,  and  irritable  temper  was  his  most  prominent  charac- 
teristic. The  sense  of  his  deformity  haunted  him  like  a  phantom  ; 
and  the  insults  and  scorn  to  which  this  exposed  him  had  poisoned 
his  heart  with  fierce  and  bitter  feelings,  which,  from  other  traits  in 
his  character,  do  not  appear  to  have  been  more  largely  infused  into 
his  original  temperament  than  that  of  his  fellow-men. 

**  He  detested  children,  on  account  of  their  propensity  to  insult 


xviU  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  persecute  him.  To  strangers  he  was  generally  reserved,  crabbed, 
and  surly ;  and  though  he  by  no  means  refused  assistance  or  charity, 
he  on  many  occasions  neither  expressed  nor  exhibited  much  grati- 
tude. Even  towards  persons  who  had  been  his  greatest  benefactors, 
and  who  possessed  the  greatest  share  of  his  good-will,  he  frequently 
displayed  much  caprice  and  jealousy.  A  lady  who  knew  him  from 
his  infancy,  and  who  has  furnished  us  in  the  most  obliging  manner 
with  some  particulars  respecting  him,  says  that,  although  Davie 
showed  as  much  respect  and  attachment  to  her  father's  family  as  it 
was  in  his  nature  to  show  to  any,  yet  they  were  always  obliged  to 
be  very  cautious  in  their  deportment  towards  him.  One  day,  having 
gone  to  visit  him  with  another  lady,  he  took  them  through  his 
garden,  and  was  showing  them,  with  much  pride  and  good-humor, 
all  his  rich  and  tastefully-assorted  borders,  when  they  happened  to 
stop  near  a  plot  of  cabbages  which  had  been  somewhat  injured  by  the 
caterpillars.  Davie,  observing  one  of  the  ladies  smile,  instantly 
assumed  his  savage,  scowling  aspect,  rushed  among  the  cabbages, 
and  dashed  them  to  pieces  with  his  kent,  exclaiming,  '  I  hate  the 
worms,  for  they  mock  me  ! ' 

"  Another  lady,  likewise  a  friend  and  old  acquaintance  of  his,  very 
unintentionally  gave  him  mortal  offence  on  a  similar  occasion. 
Throwing  back  his  jealous  glance,"  as  he  was  ushering  her  into  his 
garden,  "  he  fancied  he  saw  her  spit  at  him.  *  Am  I  a  toad,  woman  ! 
that  ye  spit  at  me — that  ye  spit  at  me? '  he  exclaimed  with  fury, 
and  without  listening  to  any  answer,  drove  her  out  of  his  garden 
with  imprecations  and  insult.  When  irritated  by  persons  for  whom 
he  entertained  little  respect,  his  misanthropy  displayed  itself  in 
words,  and  sometimes  actions,  of  still  greater  rudeness  ; "  and  he 
used  on  such  occasions  the  most  unusual  and  singularly  savage 
imprecations  and  threats.  * 

Nature  maintains  a  certain  balance  of  good  and  evil  in 
all  her  works ;  and  there  is  no  state  perhaps  so  utterly  deso- 
late which  does  not  possess  some  source  of  gratification 
peculiar  to  itself.  This  poor  man,  whose  misanthropy  was 
founded  in  a  sense  of  his  own  preternatural  deformity,  had  yet 
his  own  particular  enjoyments.  Driven  into  solitude,  he 
became  an  admirer  of  the  beauties  of  nature.  His  garden, 
which  he  sedulously  cultivated,  and  from  a  piece  of  wild 
moorland  made  a  very  productive  spot,  was  his  pride  and  his 
delight ;  but  he  was  also  an  admirer  of  more  natural  beauty : 
the  soft  sweep  of  the  green  hill,  the  bubbling  of  a  clear 
fountain,  or  the  complexities  of  a  wild  thicket,  were  scenes  on 
which  he  often  gazed  for  hours,  and,  as  he  said,  with  inexpres-. 
sible  delight.  It  was  perhaps  for  this  reason  that  he  was  fond  of 
Shenstone's  pastorals  and  some  parts  of  Paradise  Lost.  The 
Author  has  heard  his  most  unmusical  voice  repeat  the  cele- 
brated description  of  Paradise,  which  he  seemed  fully  to  ap- 
preciate.    His  other  studies  were  of  a  different  cast,  chieny 

•  Scots  Magazine^  vol.  1.,  New  Series,  1817,  p.  207. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  BLACK  DWARF  xix 

polemicaL  He  never  went  to  the  parish  church,  and  was 
therefore  suspected  of  entertaining  heterodox  opinions, 
though  his  objection  was  probably  to  the  concourse  of  spec- 
tators to  whom  he  must  have  exposed  his  unseemly  deformity. 
He  spoke  of  a  future  state  with  intense  feeling,  and  even 
with  tears.  He  expressed  disgust  at  the  idea  of  his  remains 
being  mixed  with  the  common  rubbish,  as  he  called  it,  of  the 
churchyard,  and  selected  with  his  usual  taste  a  beautiful  and 
wild  spot  in  the  glen  where  he  had  his  hermitage,  in  which 
to  take  his  last  repose.  He  changed  his  mind,  however,  and 
was  finally  interred  in  the  common  burial-ground  of  Manor 
parish. 

The  Author  has  invested  Wise  Elshie  with  some  qualities 
which  made  him  appear,  in  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar,  a  man 
possessed  of  supernatural  power.  Common  fame  paid  David 
Ritchie  a  similar  compliment,  for  some  of  the  poor  and  igno- 
rant, as  well  as  all  the  children,  in  the  neighborhood,  held 
him  to  be  what  is  called  ^' uncanny.^'  He  himself  did  not 
altogether  discourage  the  idea ;  it  enlarged  his  very  limited 
circle  of  power,  and  in  so  far  gratified  his  conceit ;  and  it 
soothed  his  misanthropy,  by  increasing  his  means  of  giving 
terror  or  pain.  But  even  in  a  rude  Scottish  glen  thirty 
years  back  the  fear  of  sorcery  was  very  much  out  of  date. 

David  Ritchie  affected  to  frequent  solitary  scenes,  espe- 
cially such  as  were  supposed  to  be  haunted,  and  valued  himself 
upon  his  courage  in  doing  so.  To  be  sure,  he  had  little 
chance  of  meeting  anything  more  ugly  than  himself.  At 
heart  he  was  superstitious,  and  planted  many  rowans  (moun- 
tain ashes)  around  his  hut,  as  a  certain  defence  againt  nec- 
romancy. For  the  same  reason,  doubtless,  he  desired  to 
have  rowan-trees  set  above  his  grave. 

We  have  stated  that  David  Ritchie  loved  objects  of  natu- 
ral beauty.  His  only  living  favorites  were  a  dog  and  a  cat, 
to  which  he  was  particularly  attached,  and  his  bees,  which  he 
tended  with  great  care.  He  took  a  sister,  latterly,  to  live  in 
a  hut  adjacent  to  his  own,  but  he  did  not  permit  her  to  enter 
it.  She  was  weak  in  intellect,  but  not  deformed  in  person  ; 
simple,  or  rather  silly,  but  not,  like  her  brother,  sullen  or 
bizarre.  David  was  never  affectionate  to  her — it  was  not  in  his 
nature ;  but  he  endured  her.  He  maintained  himself  and 
her  by  the  sale  of  the  produce  of  their  garden  and  bee-hives  ; 
and,  latterly,  they  had  a  small  allowance  from  the  parish. 
Indeed,  in  the  simple  and  patriarchal  state  in  which  the  coun- 
try then  was,  persons  in  the  situation  of  David  and  his 
sister  were  sure  to  be  supported.     They  had  only  to  apply  to 


I 


XX  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  next  gentleman  or  respectable  farmer,  and  were  sure  to 
find  them  equally  ready  and  willing  to  supply  their  very 
moderate  wants.  David  often  received  gratuities  from  stran- 
gers, which  he  never  asked,  never  refused,  and  never  seemed 
to  consider  as  an  obligation.  He  had  a  right,  indeed,  to  re- 
gard himself  as  one  of  Nature^s  paupers,  to  whom  she  gave  a 
title  to  be  maintained  by  his  kind,  even  by  that  deformity 
which  closed  against  him  all  ordinary  ways  of  supporting 
himself  by  his  own  labor.  Besides,  a  bag  was  suspended  in 
the  mill  for  David  Ritchie's  benefit  ;  and  those  who  were  car- 
rying home  a  melder  of  meal  seldom  failed  to  add  a  gowpen  to 
the  alms-bag  of  the  deformed  cripple.  In  short,  David  had  no 
occasion  for  money,  save  to  purchase  snuff,  his  only  luxury, 
in  which  he  indulged  himself  liberally.  When  he  died,  in 
the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  he  was  found  to  have 
hoarded  about  twenty  pounds,  a  habit  very  consistent  with 
his  disposition ;  for  wealth  is  power,  and  power  was  what 
David  Ritchie  desired  to  possess,  as  a  compensation  for  his 
exclusion  from  human  society. 

His  sister  survived  till  the  publication  of  the  tale  to 
which  this  brief  notice  forms  the  introduction  ;  and  the 
Author  is  sorry  to  learn  that  a  sort  of  *^^  local  sympathy,"  and 
the  curiosity  then  expressed  concerning  the  Author  of 
Waverley  and  the  subjects  of  his  Novels,  exposed  the  poor 
woman  to  inquiries  which  gave  her  pain.  When  pressed 
about  her  brother's  peculiarities,  she  asked,  in  her  turn,  why 
they  would  not  permit  the  dead  to  rest  ?  To  others,  who 
pressed  for  some  account  of  her  parents,  she  answered  in  the 
same  tone  of  feeling. 

The  Author  saw  this  poor,  and,  it  may  be  said,  unhappy, 
man  in  autumn,  1797.  Being  then,  as  he  has  the  happiness 
still  to  remain,  connected  by  ties  of  intimate  friendship  with 
the  family  of  the  venerable  Dr.  Adam  Fergusson,  the 
philosopher  and  historian,  who  then  resided  at  the  mansion- 
house  of  Halyards,  in  the  vale  of  Manor,  about  a  mile  from 
Ritchie's  hermitage,  the  Author  was  upon  a  visit  at  Halyards, 
which  lasted  for  several  days,  and  was  made  acquainted  with 
this  singular  anchorite,  whom  Dr.  Fergusson  considered  as 
an  extraordinary  character,  and  whom  he  assisted  in  various 
ways,  particularly  by  the  occasional  loan  of  books.  Though 
the  taste  of  the  philosopher  and  the  poor  peasant  did  not,  it 
may  be  supposed,  always  correspond,*  Dr.  Fergusson  con- 
sidered him  as  a  man  of  a  powerful  capacity  and  original 

♦  I  remember  David  was  particularly  anxious  to  see  a  book  which  he  called,  I 
think,  Letters  to  the  Elect  lAidies,  and  which,  he  said,  was  the  best  composition  he 
had  ever  read  ;  but  Dr.  Ferguasuu't»  librai-v  did  uot  supply  tlie  volume. 


INTRODUCTION  TO   THE  BLACK  DWARF  xxi 

ideas,  but  whose  mind  was  thrown  off  its  just  bias  by  a  pre- 
dominant degree  of  self-love  and  self-opinion,  galled  by  the 
sense  of  ridicule  and  contempt,  and  avenging  itself  upon  so- 
ciety, in  idea  at  least,  by  a  gloomy  misanthropy. 

David  Ritchie,  besides  the  utter  obscurity  of  his  life  while 
in  existence,  had  been  dead  for  many  years  when  it  occurred 
to  the  Author  that  such  a  character  might  be  made  a  power- 
ful agent  in  fictitious  narrative.  He  accordingly  sketched 
that  of  Elshie  of  the  Mucklestane  Moor.  The  story  was  in- 
tended to  be  longer,  and  the  catastrophe  more  artificially 
brought  out  ;  but  a  friendly  critic,  to  whose  opinion  I  sub- 
jected the  work  in  its  progress,  was  of  opinion  that  the  idea 
of  the  Solitary  was  of  a  kind  too  revolting,  and  more  likely  to 
disgust  than  to  interest  the  reader.  As  I  had  good  right  to 
consider  my  adviser  as  an  excellent  judge  of  public  opinion,  I 
got  off  my  subject  by  hastening  the  story  to  an  end  as  fast  as  it 
was  possible  ;  and,  by  huddling  into  one  volume  a  tale  which 
was  designed  to  occupy  two,  have  perhaps  produced  a  narrative 
as  much  disproportioned  and  distorted  as  the  Black  Dwarf 
who  is  its  subject. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


CHAPTER  I 

PBELIMIl^^AEY 

Hast  any  philosophy  in  thee,  Shepherd  ? 

As  You  Like  R. 

It  was  a  fine  April  morning  (excepting  that  it  had  snowed 
hard  the  night  before,  and  the  ground  remained  covered  with 
a  dazzling  mantle  of  six  inches  in  depth)  when  two  horsemen 
rode  up  to  the  Wallace  Inn.  The  first  was  a  strong,  tall, 
powerful  man  in  a  gray  riding-coat,  having  a  hat  covered 
with  wax-cloth,  a  huge  silver-mounted  horsewhip,  boots,  and 
dreadnaught  overalls.  He  was  mounted  on  a  large  strong 
brown  mare,  rough  in  coat,  but  well  in  condition,  with  a 
saddle  of  the  yeomanry  cut  and  a  double-bitted  military 
bridle.  The  man  who  accompanied  him  was  apparently  his 
servant ;  he  rode  a  shaggy  little  gray  pony,  had  a  blue  bonnet 
on  his  head,  and  a  large  check  napkin  folded  about  his  neck, 
wore  a  pair  of  long  blue  worsted  hose  instead  of  boots,  had 
his  gloveless  hands  much  stained  with  tar,  and  observed  an 
air  of  deference  and  respect  towards  his  companion,  but 
without  any  of  those  indications  of  precedence  and  punctilio 
which  are  preserved  between  the  gentry  and  their  domestics. 
On  the  contrary,  the  two  travellers  entered  the  courtyard 
abreast,  and  the  concluding  sentence  of  the  conversation 
which  had  been  carrying  on  betwixt  them  was  a  joint  ejacu- 
lation, '^  Lord  guide  us,  an  this  weather  last  what  will  come 
o'  the  lambs  ! "  The  hint  was  sufficient  for  my  Landlord, 
who,  advancing  to  take  the  horse  of  the  principal  person, 
and  holding  him  by  the  reins  as  he  dismounted,  while  his 
hostler  rendered  the  same  service  to  the  attendant,  welcomed 
the  stranger  to  Gandercleugh,  and  in  the  same  breath  inquired, 
**  What  news  from  the  South  Hielands  ^" 

"News  V  said  the  farmer,  '^bad  eneugh  news,  I  think. 


d  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

An  we  can  carry  through  the  yowes  it  will  be  a*  we  can  do ; 
we  maun  e'en  leave  the  lambs  to  the  Black  Dwarf's  care/' 

"  Ay,  ay/'  subjoined  the  old  shepherd  (for  such  he  was), 
shaking  his  head,  '*  he'll  be  unco  busy  amang  the  morts  this 
season." 

*'  The  Black  Dwarf  ! "  said  my  learned  friend  and  patron* 
Mr.  Jedediah  Cleishbotham,  '^and  what  sort  of  a  personage 
may  he  be  ?  " 

"Hout  awa',  man,"  answered  the  farmer,  ''ye'llhae  heard 
o'  Canny  Elshie  the  Black  Dwarf,  or  I  am  muckle  mistaen. 
A'  the  warld  tells  tales  about  him,  but  it's  but  daft  nonsense 
after  a' ;  I  dinna  believe  a  word  o't  frae  beginning  to  end." 

'^  Your  father  believed  it  unco  stievely,  though,"  said  the 
old  man,  to  whom  the  scepticism  of  his  master  gave  obvious 
displeasure. 

'^  Ay,  very  true,  Bauldie,  but  that  was  in  the  time  o'  the 
blackfaces  ;  they  believed  a  hantle  queer  things  in  thae  days, 
that  naebody  heeds  siiice  the  lang  sheep  cam  in." 

''The  mair's  the  pity — the  mair's  the  pity,"  said  the  old 
man.  ''Your  father — and  sae  I  have  aften  tolled  ye,  maister 
— wad  hae  been  sair  vexed  to  hae  seen  the  auld  peel-house 
wa's  pu'd  down  to  make  park  dykes ;  and  the  bonny  broomy 
knowe,  where  he  liked  sae  weel  to  sit  at  e'en,  wi'  his  plaid 
about  him,  and  look  at  the  kye  as  they  cam  down  the  loaning — 
ill  wad  he  hae  liked  to  hae  seen  that  braw  sunny  knowe  a' 
riven  out  wi'  the  plough  in  the  fashion  it  is  at  this  day." 

"  Hout,  Bauldie,"  replied  the  principal,  "  tak  ye  that 
dram  the  landlord's  offering  ye,  and  never  fash  your  head 
about  the  changes  o'  the  warld,  sae  lang  as  ye're  blithe  and 
bien  yoursell." 

"Wussing  your  health,  sirs,"  said  the  shepherd  ;  and  hav- 
ing taken  off  his  glass,  and  observed  the  whiskey  was  the  right, 
thmg,  he  continued,  "  It's  no  for  the  like  o'  us  to  be  judging, 
to  be  sure ;  but  it  was  a  bonny  knowe  that  broomy  knowe,  and 
an  unco  braw  shelter  for  the  lambs  in  a  severe  morning  like 
this." 

'*  Ay,"  said  his  patron,  "  but  ye  ken  we  maun  hae  turnips 
for  the  lang  sheep,  billie,  and  muckle  hard  wark  to  get  them, 
baith  wi'  the  plough  and  the  howe  ;  and  that  wad  sort  ill  wi' 
sitting  on  the  broomy  knowe  and  cracking  about  Black 
Dwarfs  and  siccan  clavers,  as  was  the  gate  lang  syne,  when 
the  short  sheep  were  in  the  fashion." 

"  Aweel,  aweel,  maister,"  said  the  attendant,  "short  sheep 
had  short  rents,  I'm  thinking." 

•  See  Mr.  Jedediah  Cleishbotham's  Interpolations.    Note  1. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  8 

Here  my  worthy  and  learned  patron  again  interposed,  and 
observed,  '*  that  he  could  never  perceive  any  material  differ- 
ence in  point  of  longitude  between  one  sheep  and  another." 

This  occasioned  a  loud  hoarse  laugh  on  the  part  of  the 
farmer,  and  an  astonished  stare  on  the  part  of  the  shepherd. 
'^  It's  the  woo^  man — it's  the  woo',  and  no  the  beasts  them- 
sells,  that  makes  them  be  ca'd  lang  or  short.  I  believe  if  ye 
were  to  measure  their  backs  the  short  sheep  wad  be  rather 
the  langer-bodied  o'  the  twa  ;  but  it's  the  woo^  that  pays  the 
rent  in  thae  days,  and  it  had  muckle  need.  Odd,  Bauldie 
says  very  true,''  he  continued  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
''  short  sheep  did  make  short  rents  ;  my  father  paid  for  our 
steading  just  threescore  punds,  and  it  stands  me  in  three 
hundred,  plack  and  bawbee.  And  that's  very  true,  I  hae  nae 
time  to  be  standing  here  clavering.  Landlord,  get  us  our 
breikfast,  and  see  an'  get  the  yauds  fed.  I  am  for  doun  to 
Oiiristy  Wilson's,  to  see  if  him  and  me  can  gree  about  the  luck- 
penny  I  am  to  gie  him  for  his  year-aulds.  We  had  drunk 
sax  mutchkins  to  the  making  the  bargain  at  St.  Boswell's  Fair, 
and  some  gate  we  canna  gree  upon  the  particulars  preceesely, 
for  as  muckle  time  as  we  took  about  it ;  I  doubt  we  draw  to  a 
plea.  Bat  hear  ye,  neighbor,"  addressing  my  worthy  and 
tear  tied  patron,  "  if  ye  want  to  hear  anything  about  lang  or 
short  sheep,  I  will  be  back  here  to  my  kail  agamst  ane  o'clock  ; 
or,  if  ye  want  ony  auld-warld  stories  about  the  Black  Dwarf, 
and  sic-like,  if  ye'U  ware  a  half  mutchkin  upon  Bauldie  there, 
he'll  crack  t'ye  like  a  pen-gun.  And  I'se  gie  ye  a  mutchkin 
mysell,  man,  if  I  can  settle  weel  wi'  Christy  Wilson." 

The  farmer  returned  at  the  hour  appointed,  and  with  him 
came  Christy  Wilson,  their  difference  having  been  fortunately 
settled  without  an  appeal  to  the  gentlemen  of  the  long  robe. 
My  learned  and  worthy  patron  failed  not  to  attend,  both  on 
account  of  the  refreshment  promised  to  the  mind  and  to  the 
body,  although  he  is  known  to  partake  of  the  latter  in  a  very 
moderate  degree ;  and  the  party,  with  which  my  Landlord 
was  associated,  continued  to  sit  late  in  the  evening,  seasoning 
their  liquor  with  many  choice  tales  and  songs.  The  last  in- 
cident which  I  recollect  was  my  learned  and  worthy  patron 
falling  from  his  chair,  just  as  he  concluded  a  long  lecture 
upon  temperance,  by  reciting  from  the  Gentle  Shepherd  a 
couplet,  which  he  right  happily  transferred  from  the  vice  of 
avarice  to  that  of  ebriety  : 

He  that  has  just  eneugh  may  soundly  sleep, 
The  owercome  only  fashes  folk  to  keep. 


4  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  the  Black  Dwarf  *  had  not, 
been  forgotten,  and  the  old  shepherd,  Bauldie,  told  so  many 
stories  of  him  that  they  excited  a  good  deal  of  interest.  It 
also  appeared,  though  not  till  the  third  punch-bowl  was 
emptied,  that  much  of  the  f armer^s  scepticism  on  the  subject 
was  affected,  as  evincing  a  liberality  of  thinking  and  a  free- 
dom from  ancient  prejudices  becoming  a  man  who  paid  three 
hundred  pounds  a  year  of  rent,  while,  in  fact,  he  had  a  lurk- 
ing belief  in  the  traditions  of  his  forefathers.  After  my 
usual  manner  I  made  farther  inquiries  of  other  persons  con- 
nected with  the  wild  and  pastoral  district  in  which  the  scene 
of  the  following  narrative  is  placed,  and  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  recover  many  links  of  the  story,  not  generally  known,  and 
which  account,  at  least  in  some  degree,  for  the  circumstances 
of  exaggerated  marvel  with  which  superstition  has  attired  it 
in  the  more  vulgar  traditions. 

*  See  Note  8. 


CHAPTER  II 

Will  none  but  Heame  the  Hnnter  serre  your  turn  ? 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 

In  one  of  the  most  remote  districts  of  the  south  of  Scotland, 
where  an  ideal  line,  drawn  along  the  tops  of  lofty  and  bleak 
mountains,  separates  that  land  from  her  sister  kingdom,  a 
young  man  called  Halbert  or  Hobbie  Elliot,  a  substantial 
farmer,  who  boasted  his  descent  from  old  Martin  Elliot  of  the 
Preakin  Tower,  noted  in  Border  story  and  song,  was  on  his 
return  from  deer-stalking.  The  deer,  once  so  numerous  among 
these  solitary  wastes,  were  now  reduced  to  a  very  few  herds, 
which,  sheltering  themselves  in  the  most  remote  and  inaccessi- 
ble recesses,  rendered  the  task  of  pursuing  them  equally  toil- 
some and  precarious.  There  were,  however,  found  many 
youth  of  the  country  ardently  attached  to  this  sport,  with  all 
its  dangers  and  fatigues.  The  sword  had  been  sheathed  upon 
the  Borders  for  more  than  a  hundred  years  by  the  peaceful 
Union  of  the  Crowns  in  the  reign  of  James  the  First  of  Great 
Britain.  Still  the  country  retained  traces  of  what  it  had  been 
in  former  days  :  the  inhabitants,  their  more  peaceful  avoca- 
tions having  been  repeatedly  interrupted  by  the  civil  wars  of 
the  preceding  century,  were  scarce  yet  broken  in  to  the  habits 
of  regular  industry,  sheep-farming  had  not  been  introduced 
upon  any  considerable  scale,  and  the  feeding  of  black  cattle 
was  the  chief  purpose  to  which  the  hills  and  valleys  were 
applied.  Near  to  the  farmer's  house  the  tenant  usually  con- 
trived to  raise  such  a  crop  of  oats  or  barley  as  afforded  meal 
for  his  family  ;  and  the  whole  of  this  slovenly  and  imperfect 
mode  of  cultivation  left  much  time  upon  his  own  hands  and 
those  of  his  domestics.  This  was  usually  employed  by  the 
young  men  in  hunting  and  fishing ;  and  the  spirit  of  adven- 
ture, which  formerly  led  to  raids  and  forays  in  the  same  dis- 
tricts, was  still  to  be  discovered  in  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  pursued  those  rural  sports. 

The  more  high-spirited  among  the  youth  were,  about  the 
time  that  our  narrative  begins,  expecting,  rather  with  hope 
than  apprehension,  an  opportunity  of  emulating  their  fathers 
in  their  military  achievements,  the  recital  of  which  formed 


6  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  chief  part  of  their  amusement  within  doors.  The  passing 
of  the  Scottish  Act  of  Security  had  given  the  alarm  to  Eng- 
land, as  it  seemed  to  point  at  a  separation  of  the  two  British 
kingdoms  after  the  decease  of  Queen  Anne,  the  reigning 
iovereign.  Godolphin,  then  at  the  head  of  the  English  ad- 
ministration, foresaw  that  there  was  no  other  mode  of  avoid- 
ing the  probable  extremity  of  a  civil  war  but  by  carrying 
khrough  an  incorporating  union.  How  that  treaty  was  man- 
Aged,  and  how  littlo  it  seemed  for  some  time  to  promise  the 
beneficial  results  which  have  since  taken  place  to  such  extent, 
may  be  learned  from  the  history  of  the  period.  It  is  enough 
for  our  purpose  to  say  that  all  Scotland  was  indignant  at  the 
terms  on  which  their  legislature  had  surrendered  their  national 
independence.  The  general  resentment  led  to  the  strangest 
leagues  and  to  the  wildest  plans.  The  Cameronians  were 
about  to  take  arms  for  the  restoration  of  the  house  of  Stuart, 
whom  they  regarded,  with  justice,  as  their  oppressors  ;  and  the 
tntrigues  of  the  period  presented  the  strange  picture  of  Papists, 
Prelatists,  and  Presbyterians  caballing  among  themselves 
against  the  English  government,  out  of  a  common  feeling  that 
their  country  had  been  treated  with  injustice.  The  fermenta> 
tion  was  universal ;  and,  as  the  population  of  Scotland  had  been 
generally  trained  to  arms  under  the  Act  of  Security,  they  were 
not  indifferently  prepared  for  war,  and  waited  but  the  declara^ 
tion  of  some  of  the  nobility  to  break  out  into  open  hostility. 
It  was  at  this  period  of  public  confusion  that  our  story  opens. 
The  cleugh  or  wild  ravine  into  which  Hobbie  Elliot  had 
followed  the  game  was  already  far  behind  him,  and  he  was 
considerably  advanced  on  his  return  homeward,  when  the 
night  began  to  close  upon  him.  This  would  have  been  a 
circumstance  of  great  indifference  to  the  experienced  sportS' 
man,  who  could  have  walked  blindfold  over  every  inch  of  his 
native  heaths,  had  it  not  happened  near  a  spot  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  traditions  of  the  country,  was  in  extremely  bad 
fame,  as  haunted  by  supernatural  appearances.  To  tales  of 
this  kind  Hobbie  had  from  his  childhood  lent  an  attentive 
ear,  and  as  no  part  of  the  country  afforded  such  a  variety  of 
legends,  so  no  man  was  more  deeply  read  in  their  fearful 
lore  than  Hobbie  of  the  Heughfoot ;  for  so  our  gallant  was 
called,  to  distinguish  him  from  a  round  dozen  of  Elliots  who 
bore  the  same  Christian  name.  It  cost  him  no  efforts,  there- 
fore, to  call  to  memory  the  terrific  incidents  connected  with 
the  extensive  waste  upon  which  he  was  now  entering.  In 
fact,  they  presented  themselves  with  a  readiness  which  h^ 
felt  to  be  somewhat  dismaying. 


,  THE  BLACK  DWARF  7 

This  dreary  common  was  called  Mucklestane  Moor,  from 
a  huge  column  of  unhewn  granite  which  raised  its  massy 
head  on  a  knoll  near  the  centre  of  the  heath,  perhaps  to  tell 
of  the  mighty  dead  who  slept  beneath,  or  to  preserve  the 
memory  of  some  bloody  skirmish.  The  real  cause  of  its 
existence  had,  however,  passed  away ;  and  tradition,  which 
is  as  frequently  an  inventor  of  fiction  as  a  preserver  of  truth, 
had  supplied  its  place  with  a  supplementary  legend  of  her 
own,  which  now  came  full  upon  Hobbie^s  memory.  The 
ground  about  the  pillar  was  strewed,  or  rather  encumbered, 
with  many  large  fragments  of  stone  of  the  same  consistence 
with  the  column,  which,  from  their  appearance  as  they  lay 
scattered  on  the  waste,  were  popularly  called  the  Gray  Geese 
of  Mucklestane  Moor.  The  legend  accounted  for  this  name 
and  appearance  by  the  catastrophe  of  a  noted  and  most  for- 
midable witch  who  frequented  these  hills  in  former  days, 
causing  the  ewes  to  "keb  "  and  the  kine  to  cast  their  calves, 
and  performing  all  the  feats  of  mischief  ascribed  to  these 
evil  beings.  On  this  moor  she  used  to  hold  her  revels  with 
her  sister  hags ;  and  rings  were  still  pointed  out  on  which  no 
grass  nor  heath  ever  grew,  the  turf  being,  as  it  were,  calcined 
by  the  scorching  hoofs  of  tlieir  diabolical  partners. 

Once  upon  a  time  this  old  hag  is  said  to  have  crossed  the 
moor,  driving  before  her  a  flock  of  geese,  which  she  proposed 
to  sell  to  advantage  at  a  neighboring  fair  ;  for  it  is  well  known 
that  the  fiend,  however  liberal  in  imparting  his  powers  of 
doing  mischief,  ungenerously  leaves  his  allies  under  the 
necessity  of  performing  the  meanest  rustic  labors  for 
subsistence.  The  day  was  far  advanced,  and  her  chance  of 
obtaining  a  good  price  depended  on  her  being  first  at  the  mar- 
ket. But  the  geese,  which  had  hitherto  preceded  her  in  a 
pretty  orderly  manner,  when  they  came  to  this  wide  common 
interspersed  with  marshes  and  pools  of  water,  scattered  in 
every  direction,  to  plunge  into  the  element  in  which  they  de- 
lighted. Incensed  at  the  obstinacy  with  which  they  defied 
all  her  efforts  to  collect  them,  and  not  remembering  the  pre- 
cise terms  of  the  contract  by  which  the  fiend  was  bound  to 
obey  her  commands  for  a  certain  space,  the  sorceress  ex- 
claimed, '"^Deevil,  that  neither  I  nor  they  ever  stir  from  this 
spot  more  ! "  The  words  were  hardly  uttered  when,  by  a 
metamorphosis  as  sudden  as  any  in  Ovid,  the  hag  and  her  re- 
fractory fiock  were  converted  into  stone,  the  angel  whom  she 
served,  being  a  strict  formalist,  grasping  eagerly  at  an  oppor- 
tunity of  completing  the  ruin  of  her  body  and  soul  by  a  literal 
obedience  to  her  orders.     It  is  said  that,  when  she  perceived 


S  WAVERLEY  NO VELS  . 

and  felt  the  transformation  which  was  about  to  take  place, 
she  exclaimed  to  the  treacherous  fiend,  "  Ah,  thou  false  thief  ! 
lang  hast  thou  promised  me  a  gray  gown,  and  now  I  am  get- 
ting ane  that  will  last  forever/'  The  dimensions  of  the 
pillar  and  of  the  stones  were  often  appealed  to  as  a  proof  of 
the  superior  stature  and  size  of  old  women  and  geese  in  the 
days  of  other  years,  by  those  praisers  of  the  past  who  held 
the  comfortable  opinion  of  the  gradual  degeneracy  of  man- 
kind. 

All  particulars  of  this  legend  Hobbie  called  to  mind  as  he 
passed  along  the  moor.  He  also  remembered  that,  since  the 
catastrophe  had  taken  place,  the  scene  of  it  had  been  avoided, 
at  least  after  nightfall,  by  all  human  beings,  as  being  the 
ordinary  resort  of  kelpies,  spunkies,  and  other  demons,  once 
the  companions  of  the  witch's  diabolical  revels,  and  now 
continuing  to  rendezvous  upon  the  same  spot,  as  if  still  in 
attendance  on  their  transformed  mistress.  Hobbie's  natural 
hardihood,  however,  manfully  combated  with  these  intrusive 
sensations  of  awe.  He  summoned  to  his  side  the  brace  of 
large  greyhounds  who  were  the  companions  of  his  sports,  and 
who  were  wont,  in  his  own  phrase,  to  fear  neither  dog  nor 
devil ;  he  looked  at  the  priming  of  his  piece,  and,  like  the 
clown  in  Hallowe'en,  whistled  up  the  warlike  ditty  of  '^  Jock 
of  the  Side,''  as  a  general  causes  his  drums  be  beat  to  inspirit 
the  doubtful  courage  of  his  soldiers. 

In  this  state  of  mind  he  was  very  glad  to  hear  a  friendly 
voice  shout  in  his  rear,  and  propose  to  him  a  partner  on  the 
road.  He  slackened  his  pace,  and  was  quickly  joined  by  a 
youth  well  known  to  him,  a  gentleman  of  some  fortune  in 
that  remote  country,  and  who  had  been  abroad  on  the  same 
errand  with  himself.  Young  Earnscliff,  ^'  of  that  ilk,"  had 
lately  come  of  age  and  succeeded  to  a  moderate  fortune,  a 
good  deal  dilapidated  from  the  share  his  family  had  taken  in 
the  disturbances  of  the  period.  They  were  much  and  gener- 
ally respected  in  the  country  ;  a  reputation  which  this  young 
gentleman  seemed  likely  to  sustain,  as  he  was  well  educated 
and  of  excellent  dispositions. 

''Kow,  Earnscliff,"  exclaimed  Hobbie,  "I  am  glad  to 
meet  your  honor  ony  gate,  and  company's  blithe  on  a  bare 
moor  like  this  ;  it's  an  unco  bogilly  bit.  Where  hae  ye  been 
sporting?" 

"  Up  the  Carla  Cleugh,  Hobbie,"  answered  Earnscliff, 
returning  his  greeting.  **  But  will  our  dogs  keep  the  peace, 
think  you  ?" 

*' Deil  a  fear  o'  mine,"  said  Hobbie,  ''they  hae  scarce* 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  ^ 

leg  to  stand  on.  Odd  !  the  deer's  fled  the  country,  I  think  ! 
I  have  been  as  far  as  Inger  Fell  foot,  and  deil  a  horn  has 
Hobble  seen,  excepting  three  red  wud  raes,  that  never  let  me 
within  shot  of  them,  though  I  gaed  a  mile  round  to  get  up 
the  wind  to  them,  an'  a'.  Deil  o'  me  wad  care  muckle,  only 
I  wanted  some  venison  to  our  auld  gude-dame.  The  carline, 
she  sits  in  the  neuk  yonder  upbye,  and  cracks  about  the  grand 
shooters  and  hunters  lang  syne.  Odd,  I  think  they  hae  killed 
a'  the  deer  in  the  country,  for  my  part." 

^'  Well,  Hobbie,  I  have  shot  a  fat  buck  and  sent  him  to 
Earnscliff  this  morning  ;  you  shall  have  half  of  him  for  your 
grandmother.'' 

'^  Mony  thanks  to  ye,  Mr.  Patrick  ;  ye're  kend  to  a'  the 
country  for  a  kind  heart.  It  will  do  the  auld  wife's  heart 
gude,  mair  by  token  when  she  kens  it  comes  frae  you  ;  and 
maist  of  a'  gin  ye'U  come  up  and  take  your  share,  for  I  reckon 
ye  are  lonesome  now  in  the  auld  tower,  and  a'  your  folk  at 
that  weary  Edinburgh.  I  wonder  what  they  can  find  to  do 
amang  a  wheen  ranks  o'  stane  houses  wi'  slate  on  the  tap  o' 
them,  that  might  live  on  their  ain  bonny  green  hills." 

"  My  education  and  my  sisters'  has  kept  my  mother  much 
in  Edinburgh  for  several  years,"  said  Earnscliff,  ''  but  I 
promise  you  I  propose  to  make  up  for  lost  time." 

*'And  ye'll  rig  out  the  auld  tower  a  bit,"  said  Hobbie, 
*^and  live  hearty  and  neighbor-like  wi' the  auld  family  friends, 
as  the  Laird  o'  Earnscliff  should  ?  I  can  tell  ye,  my  mother — 
my  grandmother,  I  mean  ;  but,  since  we  lost  our  ain  mother, 
we  ca'  her  sometimes  the  tane  and  sometimes  the  tother— 
but,  ony  gate,  she  conceits  hersell  no  that  distant  connected 
wi'  you." 

'*  Very  true,  Hobbie,  and  I  will  come  to  the  Heughfoot 
to  dinner  to-morrow  with  all  my  heart." 

*'  Weel,  that's  kindly  said  !  We  are  auld  neighbors,  an* 
we  were  nae  kin  ;  and  my  gude-dame's  fain  to  see  you  ;  she 
clavers  about  your  father  that  was  killed  lang  syne." 

"  Hush,  hush,  Hobbie,  not  a  word  about  that ;  it's  a  story 
better  forgotten." 

"  I  dinna  ken  ;  if  it  had  chanced  amang  our  folk,  we  wad 
hae  keepit  it  in  mind  mony  a  day  till  we  got  some  mends 
for't ;  but  ye  ken  your  ain  ways  best,  you  lairds.  I  have 
heard  say  that  Ellieslaw's  friend  stickit  your  sire  after  the 
Laird  himsell  had  mastered  his  sword." 

'^  Fie,  fie,  Hobbie  ;  it  was  a  foolish  brawl,  occasioned  by 
wine  and  politics ;  many  swords  were  drawn,  it  is  impossible 
to  say  who  struck  the  blow." 


10  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'*  At  ony  rate,  auld  Ellieslaw  was  aiding  and  abetting  ;  and 
I  am  sure  if  ye  were  sae  disposed  as  to  take  amends  on  him, 
naebody  could  say  it  was  wrang,  for  your  father^s  blood  is 
beneath  his  nails  ;  and  besides,  there's  naebody  else  left  that 
was  concerned  to  take  amends  upon,  and  he's  a  Prelatist  and  a 
Jacobite  into  the  bargain.  I  can  tell  ye  the  country  folk  look 
for  something  atween  ye/' 

'^0  for  shame,  Hobbie  !"  replied  the  young  Laird  ; ''  you, 
that  profess  religion,  to  stir  your  friend  up  to  break  the  law, 
and  take  vengeance  at  his  own  hand,  and  in  such  a  bogilly 
bit  too,  where  we  know  not  what  beings  may  be  listening 
tons!" 

"^Hush,  hush  !"  said  Hobbie,  drawing  nearer  to  his  com- 
panion, ''  I  was  nae  thinking  o'  the  like  o'  them.  But  I  can 
guess  a  wee  bit  what  keeps  your  hand  up,  Mr.  Patrick  ;  we  a' 
ken  it's  no  lack  o'  courage,  but  the  twa  gray  een  of  a  bonny 
lass.  Miss  Isabel  Vere,  that  keeps  you  sae  sober." 

*'I  assure  you,  Hobbie,"  said  his  companion,  rather 
angrily — ^'I  assure  you,  you  are  mistaken;  and  it  is  ex- 
tremely wrong  of  you  either  to  think  of  or  to  utter  such  an 
idea.  I  have  no  idea  of  permitting  freedoms  to  be  carried  so 
far  as  to  connect  my  name  with  that  of  any  young  lady." 

"Why,  there  now — there  now!"  retorted  Elliot;  "did 
I  not  say  it  was  nae  want  o'  spunk  that  made  ye .  sae  mim  ? 
Weel,  weel,  I  meant  nae  offence  ;  but  there's  just  ae  thing  ye 
may  notice  frae  a  friend.  The  auld  Laird  of  Ellieslaw  has 
the  auld  riding  blood  far  better  at  his  heart  than  ye  hae  : 
troth,  he  kens  naething  about  thae  newfangled  notions  o'  peace 
and  quietness  ;  he's  a'  for  the  auld-warld  doings  o'  lifting  and 
laying  on,  and  he  has  a  wheen  stout  lads  at  his  back  too,  and 
keeps  them  weel  up  in  heart,  and  as  fu'  o'  mischief  as  young 
colts.  Where  he  gets  the  gear  to  do't,  nane  can  say  ;  he  lives 
high,  and  far  abune  his  rents  here ;  however,  he  pays  his 
way.  Sae,  if  there's  ony  outbreak  in  the  country,  he's  likely 
to  break  out  wi'  the  first.  And  weel  does  he  mind  the  auld 
quarrels  between  ye.  I'm  surmising  he'll  be  for  a  touch  at 
the  auld  tower  at  Eamscliff." 

"  Well,  Hobbie,"  answered  the  young  gentleman,  "  if  he 
should  be  so  ill  advised,  I  shall  try  to  make  the  old  tower  good 
against  him,  as  it  has  been  made  good  by  my  betters  against 
his  betters  many  a  day  ago." 

"Very  right — very  right;  that's  speaking  like  a  man 
now,"  said  the  stout  yeoman  ;  "  and,  if  sae  should  be  that  this 
be  sae,  if  ye'U  just  gar  your  servant  jow  out  the  great  bell  in 
the  tower,  there's  me  and  my  twa  brothers  and  little  Davie  of 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  li 

fche  Stenhonse  will  be  wi'  you,  wi'  a'  the  power  we  can  make, 
in  the  snapping  of  a  flint/^ 

'^  Many  thanks,  Hobbie,''  answered  Earnscliff ;  "but  I 
hope  we  shall  have  no  war  of  so  unnatural  and  unchristian  a 
kind  in  our  time/' 

" Hout,  sir,  hout,''  replied  Elliot ;  "it  wad  be  but  a  wee 
bit  neighbor  war,  and  Heaven  and  earth  would  make  allow- 
ances for  it  in  this  uncultivated  place.  It's  just  the  nature 
o'  the  folk  and  the  land  :  we  canna  live  quiet  like  London 
folk,  we  haena  sae  rauckle  to  do.     It's  impossible." 

"Well,  Hobbie,"  said  the  Laird,  "for  one  who  believes  so 
deeply  as  you  do  in  supernatural  appearances,  I  must  own  you 
take  Heaven  in  your  own  hand  rather  audaciously,  considering 
where  we  are  walking." 

"  What  needs  I  care  for  the  Mucklestane  Moor  ony  mair 
than  ye  do  yoursell,  Earnscliff  ?  "  said  Hobbie,  something  of- 
fended ;  "  to  be  sure,  they  do  say  there's  a  sort  o'  worriecows 
and  langnebbit  things  about  the  land,  but  what  need  I  care  for 
them  ?  I  hae  a  good  conscience,  and  little  to  answer  for,  un- 
less it  be  about  a  rant  amang  the  lasses  or  a  splore  at  a  fair, 
and  that's  no  muckle  to  speak  of.  Though  I  say  it  mysell,  1 
am  as  quiet  a  lad  and  as  peaceable " 

"  And  Dick  Turnbull's  head  that  you  broke,  and  Willie  of 
Winton  whom  you  shot  at  ?  "  said  his  travelling  companion. 

"  Hout,  Earnscliff,  ye  keep  a  record  of  a'  men's  misdoings. 
Dick's  head's  healed  again,  and  we're  to  fight  out  the  quarrel 
at  Jeddart  on  the  Rood-day,  so  that's  like  a  thing  settled  in  a 
peaceable  way  ;  and  then  I  am  friends  wi'  Willie  again,  puir 
chield,  it  was  but  twa  or  three  hail-draps  after  a'.  I  wad  let 
onybody  do  the  like  o't  to  me  for  a  pint  o'  brandy.  But  Willie's 
Lowland  bred,  poor  fallow,  and  soon  frighted  for  himsell. 
And  for  the  worriecows,  were  we  to  meet  ane  on  this  very 
bit " 

"  As  is  not  unlikely,"  said  young  Earnscliff,  "for  there 
stands  your  old  witch,  Hobbie." 

"  I  say,"  continued  Elliot,  as  if  indignant  at  this  hint — "I 
say,  if  the  auld  carline  hersell  was  to  get  up  out  o'  the  grund 

just  before  us  here,  I  would  think  nae  mair But,  Gude 

preserve  us,  Earnscliff,  what  can  yon  be  !" 


CHAPTER  III 

Brown  Dwarf,  that  o'er  the  moorland  strays. 
Thy  name  to  Keeldar  tell  I 
"  The  Brown  Man  of  the  Moor,  that  stays 
Beneath  the  heather-bell." 

John  Leyden. 

The  object  which  alarmed  the  young  farmer  in  the  middle  of 
his  valorous  protestations  startled  for  a  moment  even  his  less 
prejudiced  companion.  The  moon,  which  had  arisen  during 
their  conversation,  was,  in  the  phrase  of  that  country,  wading 
or  struggling  with  clouds,  and  shed  only  a  doubtful  and  occa- 
sional light.  By  one  of  her  beams,  which  streamed  upon  the 
great  granite  column  to  which  they  now  approached,  they 
discovered  a  form,  apparently  human,  but  of  a  size  much  less 
than  ordinary,  which  moved  slowly  among  the  large  gray 
stones,  not  like  a  person  intending  to  journey  onward,  but 
with  the  slow,  irregular,  flitting  movement  of  a  being  who 
hovers  around  some  spot  of  melancholy  recollection,  uttering 
also,  from  time  to  time,  a  sort  of  indistinct  muttering  sound. 
This  so  much  resembled  his  idea  of  the  motions  of  an  appari- 
tion, that  Hobbie  Elliot,  making  a  dead  pause,  while  his  hair 
erected  itself  upon  his  scalp,  whispered  to  his  companion, 
*'  It's  auld  Ailie  hersell !  Shall  I  gie  her  a  shot,  in  the  name 
of  God?'' 

''For  Heaven's  sake,  no,"  said  his  companion,  holding 
down  the  weapon  which  he  was  about  to  raise  to  the  aim — 
"for  Heaven^  sake,  no  ;  it's  some  poor  distracted  creature." 

"  Ye're  distracted  yoursell,  for  thinking  of  going  so  near 
to  her,"  said  Elliot,  holding  his  companion  in  his  turn,  as  he 
prepared  to  advance.  ''  We'll  aye  hae  time  to  pit  ower  a  bit 
prayer — an  I  could  but  mind  ane — afore  she  comes  this 
length.  God !  she's  in  nae  hurry,"  continued  he,  growing 
bolder  from  his  companion's  confidence,  and  the  little  notice 
the  apparition  seemed  to  take  of  them.  *'  She  hirples  like  a 
hen  on  a  het  girdle.  I  redd  ye,  Earnscliff  [this  he  added  in 
a  gentle  whisper] ,  let  us  take  a  cast  about,  as  if  to  draw  the 
wind  on  a  buck.  The  bog  is  no  abune  knee-deep,  and  better 
a  saft  road  as  bad  company." 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  15 

Eamsclitf,  however,  in  spite  of  his  companion's  resistance 
and  remonstrances,  continued  to  advance  on  the  path  they 
had  originally  pursued,  and  soon  confronted  the  objoct  of 
their  investigation. 

The  height  of  the  figure,  which  appeared  even  to  decrease 
as  they  approached  it,  seemed  to  be  under  four  feet,  and  its 
form,  as  far  as  the  imperfect  light  aiforded  them  the  means 
of  discerning,  was  very  nearly  as  broad  as  long,  or  rather  of 
a  spherical  shape,  which  could  only  be  occasioned  by  some 
strange  personal  deformity.  The  young  sportsman  hailed 
this  extraordinary  appearance  twice,  without  receiving  any 
answer,  or  attending  to  the  pinches  by  which  his  companion 
endeavored  to  intimate  that  their  best  course  was  to  walk  on, 
without  giving  farther  disturbance  to  a  being  of  such  singular 
and  preternatural  exterior.  To  the  third  repeated  demand  of 
"  Who  are  you  ?  What  do  you  here  at  this  hour  of  night  ?'* 
a  voice  replied,  whose  shrill,  uncouth,  and  dissonant  tones 
made  Elliot  step  two  paces  back,  and  startled  even  his  com- 
panion, "Pass  on  your  way,  and  ask  naught  at  them  that  ask 
naught  at  you.'* 

"What  do  you  do  here  so  far  from  shelter  ?  Are  you  be- 
nighted on  your  journey  ?  Will  you  follow  us  home  ["God 
forbid!"*'  ejaculated  Hobbie  Elliot,  involuntarily],  and  I 
will  give  you  a  lodging  ? " 

"  I  would  sooner  lodge  by  mysell  in  the  deepest  of  the 
Tarras  flow,''  again  whispered  Hobbie. 

"Pass  on  your  way,"  rejoined  the  figure,  the  harsh  tones 
of  his  voice  still  more  exalted  by  passion.  "  I  want  not  your 
guidance,  I  want  not  your  lodging  ;  it  is  five  years  since  my 
head  was  under  a  human  roof,  and  I  trust  it  was  for  the  last 
time." 

"He  is  mad,"  said  Earnscliff. 

"  He  has  a  look  of  auld  Humphrey  Ettercap,  the  tinkler, 
that  perished  in  this  very  moss  about  five  years  syne," 
answered  his  superstitious  companion;  "but  Humphrey 
wasna  that  awfu'  big  in  the  bouk." 

"  Pass  on  your  way,"  reiterated  the  object  of  their  curi- 
osity ;  "the  breath  of  your  human  bodies  poisons  the  air 
around  me,  the  sound  of  your  human  voices  goes  through  my 
ears  like  sharp  bodkins." 

"  Lord  safe  us  ! "  whispered  Hobbie,  "  that  the  dead  should 
bear  sic  fearfu'  ill-will  to  the  living  !  His  saul  maun  be  in  a 
puir  way,  I'm  jealous." 

"Come,  my  friend,"  said  Earnscliff ,  "you  seem  to  suffer 
under  some  strong  affliction  ;  common  humanity  will  not 
allow  us  to  leave  you  here." 


14  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Common  "humanity  !  "  exclaimed  the  being,  with  a  scorn, 
fnl  laugh  that  sounded  like  a  shriek,  ^'  where  got  ye  that 
catch-word — that  noose  for  woodcocks — that  common  disguise 
for  man-traps — that  bait  which  the  wretched  idiot  who  swal- 
lows will  soon  find  covers  a  hook  with  barbs  ten  times  sharper 
than  those  you  lay  for  the  animals  which  you  murder  for 
your  luxury  ! " 

*'l  tell  you,  my  friend,"  again  replied  Earnscliff,  ''  you  are 
incapable  of  judging  of  your  own  situation  ;  you  will  perish 
in  this  wilderness,  and  we  must,  in  compassion,  force  you 
along  with  us." 

'Til  hae  neither  hand  nor  foot  in't,"  said  Hobbie  ;  '^let 
the  ghaist  take  his  ain  way,  for  God^s  sake  ! " 

'^  My  blood  be  on  my  own  head,  if  I  perish  here,  *^  said  the 
figure  ;  and,  observing  Earnscliff  meditating  to  lay  hold  on 
him,  he  added,  "  And  your  blood  be  upon  yours,  if  you  touch 
but  the  skirt  of  my  garments,  to  infect  me  with  the  taint  of 
mortality  ! " 

The  moon  shone  more  brightly  as  he  spoke  thus,  and 
Earnscliff  observed  that  he  held  out  his  right  hand  armed  with 
some  weapon  of  offence,  which  glittered  in  the  cold  ray  like  the 
blade  of  a  long  knife  or  the  barrel  of  a  pistol.  It  would  have 
been  madness  to  persevere  in  his  attempt  upon  a  being  thus 
armed,  and  holding  such  desperate  language,  especially  as  it 
was  plain  he  would  have  little  aid  from  his  companion,  who 
had  fairly  left  him  to  settle  matters  with  the  apparition  as  he 
could,  and  had  proceeded  a  few  paces  on  his  way  homeward. 
Earnscliff,  therefore,  turned  and  followed  Hobbie,  after  look- 
ing back  towards  the  supposed  maniac,  who,  as  if  raised  to 
frenzy  by  the  interview,  roamed  wildly  around  the  great  stone, 
exhausting  his  voice  in  shrieks  and  imprecations,  that  thrilled 
wildly  along  the  waste  heath. 

The  two  sportsmen  moved  on  some  time  in  silence,  until 
they  were  out  of  hearing  of  these  uncouth  sounds,  which  was 
not  ere  they  had  gained  a  considerable  distance  from  the  pil- 
lar that  gave  name  to  the  moor.  Each  made  his  private 
comments  on  the  scene  they  had  witnessed,  until  Hobbie  Elliot 
suddenly  exclaimed,  ''  Weel,  I'll  uphaud  that  yon  ghaist,  if 
it  be  a  ghaist,  has  baith  done  and  suffered  muckle  evil  in  the 
flesh,  that  gars  him  rampauge  in  that  way  after  he  is  dead 
and  gane." 

'*  It  seems  to  me  the  very  madness  of  misanthropy,"  said 
Earnscliff,  following  his  own  current  of  thought. 

"And  ye  didna  think  it  was  a  spiritual  creature,  then  f* 
asked  Hobbie  at  his  companion. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  11 

''Who,  I?    No,  surely." 

"  Weel,  I  am  partly  of  the  mind  mysell  that  it  may  be  a 
live  thing  ;  and  yet  I  dinna  ken,  I  wadna  wish  to  see  ony- 
thing  look  liker  a  bogle/' 

"At  any  rate,''  said  Earnscliff,  "I  will  ride  over  to-mor- 
row, and  see  what  has  become  of  the  unhappy  being." 

"In  fair  daylight  ?  "  queried  the  yeoman  ;  "  then,  grace 
o*  God,  I'se  be  wi'  ye.  But  here  we  are  nearer  to  Heughfoot 
than  to  your  house  by  twa  mile  ;  hadna  ye  better  e'en  gae 
hame  wi'  me,  and  we'll  send  the  callant  on  the  powny  to  tell 
them  that  you  are  wi'  us,  though  I  believe  there's  naebody  at 
hame  to  wait  for  you  but  the  servants  and  the  cat." 

"  Have  with  you  then,  friend  Hobbie,"  said  the  young 
hunter ;  "  and,  as  I  would  not  willingly  have  either  the  ser- 
vants be  anxious  or  puss  forfeit  her  supper  in  my  absence,  I'll 
be  obliged  to  you  to  send  the  boy  as  you  propose." 

"  Aweel,  that  is  kind,  I  must  say.  And  ye'll  gae  hame 
to  Heughfoot  ?  They'll  be  right  blithe  to  see  you,  that  will 
they." 

This  affair  settled,  they  walked  briskly  on  a  little  farther, 
when,  coming  to  the  ridge  of  a  pretty  steep  hill,  Hobbie 
Elliot  exclaimed,"'  Now,  Earnscliff,  I  am  aye  glad  when  I  come 
to  this  very  bit.  Ye  see  the  light  below  ?  that's  in  the  ha' 
window,  where  grannie,  the  gash  auld  carline,  is  sitting  birl- 
ing  at  her  wheel.  And  ye  see  yon  other  light  that's  gaun 
whiddin'  back  and  f  orrit  through  amang  the  windows  ?  that's 
my  cousin,  Grace  Armstrong.  She's  twice  as  clever  about  the 
house  as  my  sisters,  and  sae  they  say  themsells,  for  they're 
good-natured  lasses  as  ever  trod  on  heather  ;  but  they  con- 
fess themsells,  and  sae  does  grannie,  that  she  has  far  maist 
action,  and  is  the  best  goer  about  the  toun,  now  that  grannie  is 
off  the  foot  hersell.  My  brothers,  ane  o'  them's  away  to 
wait  upon  the  chamberlain,  and  ane's  at  Moss  Phadraig,  that's 
oar  led  farm  ;  he  can  see  after  the  stock  just  as  weel  as  I  can 
do." 

"You  are  lucky,  my  good  friend,  in  having  so  many 
valuable  relations." 

"  Troth  am  I.  Grace  mak  me  thankful,  I'se  never  deny 
it.  But  will  ye  tell  me  now,  Earnscliff,  you  that  have  been 
at  college  and  the  High  School  of  Edinburgh,  and  got  a' 
sort  o'  lair  where  it  was  to  be  best  gotten — will  ye  tell  me,  no 
that  it's  ony  concern  of  mine  in  particular  ;  but  I  heard  the 
priest  of  St.  John's  and  our  minister  bargaining  about  it  at 
the  Winter  Fair,  and  troth  they  baith  spak  very  weel.  Now, 
the  priest  says  it's  unlawful  to  marry  ane's  cousin  j  but  I 


x6  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

cannofc  say  I  thought  he  brought  out  the  Gospel  authorities 
half  sae  weel  as  our  minister  ;  our  minister  is  thought  the 
best  divine  and  the  best  preacher  atween  this  and  Edinburgh. 
Dinna  ye  think  he  was  likely  to  be  right  ?  " 

"  Certainly  marriage,  by  all  Protestant  Christians,  is  held 
to  be  as  free  as  God  made  it  by  the  Levitical  law ;  so,  Hobbie, 
there  can  be  no  bar,  legal  or  religious,  betwixt  you  and  Miss 
Armstrong/' 

''  Hout  awa'  wi'  your  joking,  Earnscliff,''  replied  his 
companion  ;  "  ye  are  angry  eneugh  yoursell  if  ane  touches  you 
a  bit,  man,  on  the  sooth  side  of  the  jest.  No  that  I  was  ask- 
ing the  question  about  Grace,  for  ye  maun  ken  she's  no  my 
cousin-germain  out  and  out,  but  the  daughter  of  my  uncle's 
wife  by  her  first  marriage  ;  so  she's  nae  kith  nor  kin  to  me, 
only  a  connection  like.  But  now  we're  at  the  sheeling  hill. 
I'll  fire  off  my  gun  to  let  them  ken  I'm  coming,  that's  aye 
my  way  ;  and  if  I  hae  a  deer  I  gie  them  twa  shots,  ane  for 
the  deer  and  ane  for  mysell." 

He  fired  off  his  piece  accordingly,  and  the  number  of 
lights  were  seen  to  traverse  the  house,  and  even  to  gleam 
before  it.  Hobbie  Elliot  pointed  out  one  of  these  to  Earns- 
cliff,  which  seemed  to  glide  from  the  house  towards  some  of 
the  out-houses.  ''That's  Grace  hersell,"  said  Hobbie. 
"  She'll  no  meet  me  at  the  door,  I'se  warrant  her  ;  but  she'll 
be  awa',  for  a'  that,  to  see  if  my  hounds'  supper  be  ready, 
poor  beasts." 

"  Love  me,  love  my  dog,"  said  Earnsclifl.  ''  Ah,  Hobbie, 
you  are  a  lucky  young  fellow  ! " 

This  observation  was  uttered  with  something  like  a  sigh, 
which  apparently  did  not  escape  the  ear  of  his  companion. 

'*  Hout,  other  folk  may  be  as  lucky  as  I  am.  0  how  I 
have  seen  Miss  Isabel  Vere's  head  turn  after  somebody  when 
they  passed  ane  another  at  the  Carlisle  races  !  Wha  kens  but 
things  may  come  round  in  this  world  ?  " 

Earnscliff  muttered  something  like  an  answer ;  but 
whether  in  assent  to  the  proposition  or  rebuking  the  applica- 
tion of  it  could  not  easily  be  discovered  ;  and  it  seems  prob- 
able that  the  speaker  himself  was  willing  his  meaning  should 
rest  in  doubt  and  obscurity.  They  had  now  descended  the 
broad  loaning,  which,  winding  round  the  foot  of  the  steep 
bank  or  heugh,  brought  them  in  front  of  the  thatched  but 
comfortable  farmhouse  which  was  the  dwelling  of  Hobbie 
Elliot  and  his  family. 

The  doorway  was  thronged  with  joyful  faces  ;  but  the  ap- 
pearamce  of  a  stranger  blunted  many  a  gibe  which  had  been 


I 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  It 

prepared  on  Hobbie^s  lack  of  success  in  the  deer-stalking. 
There  was  a  little  bustle  among  three  handsome  young  women, 
each  endeavoring  to  devolve  upon  another  the  task  of  usher- 
ing the  stranger  into  the  apartment,  while  probably  all  were 
anxious  to  escape  for  the  purpose  of  making  some  little  per- 
sonal arrangements,  before  presenting  themselves  to  a  young 
gentleman  in  a  dishabille  only  intended  for  their  brother. 

Hobbie,  in  the  mean  while,  bestowing  some  hearty  and  gen- 
eral abuse  upon  them  all  (for  Grace  was  not  of  the  party), 
snatched  the  candle  from  the  hand  of  one  of  the  rustic 
coquettes  as  she  stood  playing  pretty  with  it  in  her  hand,  and 
ushered  his  guest  into  the  family  parlor,  or  rather  hall  ;  for 
the  place  having  been  a  house  of  defence  in  former  times,  the 
sitting  apartment  was  a  vaulted  and  paved  room,  damp  and 
dismal  enough  compared  with  the  lodgings  of  the  yeomanry 
of  our  days,  but  which,  when  well  lighted  up  with  a  large 
sparkling  fire  of  turf  and  bog-wood,  seemed  to  Earnscliff  a  most 
comfortable  exchange  for  the  darkness  and  bleak  blast  of  the 
hill.  Kindly  and  repeatedly  was  he  welcomed  by  the  ven- 
erable old  dame,  the  mistress  of  the  family,  who,  dressed  in 
her  coif  and  pinners,  her  close  and  decent  gown  of  homespun 
wool,  but  with  a  large  gold  necklace  and  ear-rings,  looked 
what  she  really  was,  the  lady  as  well  as  the  farmer's  wife, 
while,  seated  in  her  chair  of  wicker  by  the  corner  of  the  great 
chimney,  she  directed  the  evening  occupations  of  the  young 
women,  and  of  two  or  three  stout  serving  wenches,  who  sat 
plying  their  distaffs  behind  the  backs  of  their  young  mis- 
tresses. 

As  soon  as  Earnscliff  had  been  duly  welcomed,  and  hasty 
orders  issued  for  some  addition  to  the  evening  meal,  his 
granddame  and  sisters  opened  their  battery  upon  Hobbie 
Elliot  for  his  lack  of  success  against  the  deer. 

^'  Jenny  needna  have  kept  up  her  kitchen  fire  for  a'  tJiat 
Hobbie  has  brought  hame,''  said  one  sister. 

^^  Troth  no,  lass,''  said  another  ;  ''  the  gathering  peat,  if  it 
was  weel  blawn,  wad  dress  a'  our  Hobble's  venison." 

"  Ay,  or  the  low  of  the  candle,  if  the  wind  wad  let  it  bide 
steady,"  said  a  third.  *'  If  I  were  him  I  would  bring  hame  a 
black  craw  rather  than  come  back  three  times  without  a  buck's 
horn  to  blaw  on.** 

Hobbie  turned  from  the  one  to  the  other,  regarding  them 
alternately  with  a  frown  on  his  brow,  the  augury  of  which 
was  confuted  by  the  good-humored  laugh  on  the  lower  part 
of  his  countenance.  He  then  strove  to  propitiate  them  by 
mentioning  the  intended  present  of  his  companion. 


18  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

In  my  yonng  days/*  said  the  old  lady,  *'  a  man  wad  hae  been 
ashamed  to  come  back  frae  the  hill  without  a  buck  hanging 
on  each  side  o'  his  horse,  like  a  cadger  carrying  calves/* 

•'^I  wish  they  had  left  some  for  us  then,  grannie,**  re- 
torted Hobbie;  '^they*ve  cleared  the  country  o*  them,  tha* 
auld  friends  o'  yours,  Fm  thinking.** 

''  Ye  see  other  folk  can  find  game  though  you  cannot, 
Hobbie,**  said  the  eldest  sister,  glancing  a  look  at  young 
Earnscliff.** 

*' Weel,  weel,  woman,  hasna  every  dog  his  day  ?  begging 
Earnscliff's  pardon  for  the  auld  saying.  Mayna  I  hae  his 
luck  and  he  mine  another  time  ?  It*s  a  braw  thing  for  a 
man  to  be  out  a*  day,  and  frighted — na,  I  winna  say  that 
neither — but  mistrysted  wi*  bogles  in  the  hame-coming,  an* 
then  to  hae  to  flyte  wi*  a  wheen  women  that  hae  been  doing 
nae thing  a*  the  livelang  day  but  whirling  a  bit  stick  wi*  a 
thread  trailing  at  it,  or  boring  at  a  clout.** 

"Frighted  wi*  bogles  !  **  exclaimed  the  females,  one  and 
all  ;  for  great  was  the  regard  then  paid,  and  perhaps  still 
paid,  in  these  glens  to  all  such  fantasies. 

"  I  did  not  say  frighted,  now  ;  I  only  said  mis-set  wi*  the 
thing.  And  there  was  but  ae  bogle,  neither.  Earnscliff, 
ye  saw  it  as  weel  as  I  did  ?  ** 

And  he  proceeded,  without  very  much  exaggeration,  to 
detail  in  his  own  way  the  meeting  they  had  with  the  mysteri- 
ous being  at  Mucklestane  Moor,  concluding,  "he  could  not 
conjecture  what  on  earth  it  could  be,  unless  it  was  either  the 
Enemy  himsell  or  some  of  the  auld  Peghts  that  held  the 
country  lang  syne.** 

"Auld  Peght!**  exclaimed  the  granddame ;  "na,  na. 
Bless  thee  frae  scathe,  my  bairn,  it*s  been  nae  Peght  that ; 
it*s  been  the  Brown  Man  of  the  Moors  !  0  weary  fa*  thae 
evil  days  !  what  can  evil  beings  be  coming  for  to  distract  a 
poor  country,  now  it*s  peacefully  settled  and  living  in  love 
and  law  ?  0  weary  on  him  !  he  ne'er  brought  gude  to  these 
lands  or  the  indwellers.  My  father  aften  tauld  me  he  was 
seen  in  the  year  o*  the  bloody  fight  at  Marston  Moor,  and 
then  again  in  Montrose*s  troubles,  and  again  before  the  rout 
o*  Dunbar ;  and,  in  my  ain  time,  he  was  seen  about  the 
time  o*  Bothwell  Brig  ;  and  they  said  the  second-sighted 
Laird  of  Benarbuck  had  a  communing  wi*  him  some  time 
afore  Argyle*8  landing,  but  that  I  cannot  speak  to  sae  pre- 
ceesely,  it  was  far  in  the  west  0,  bairns,  he*s  never  per- 
mitted but  m  an  ill  time,  sae  mind  ilka  ane  o*  ye  to  draw  ta 
Him  that  can  help  in  the  day  of  trouble.** 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  19 

Eamscliff  now  interposed,  and  expressed  his  firm  convic- 
rion  that  the  person  they  had  seen  was  some  poor  maniac,  and 
had  no  commission  from  the  invisible  world  to  announce 
either  war  or  evil.  But  his  opinion  found  a  very  cold  audi- 
ence, and  all  joined  to  deprecate  his  purpose  of  returning  to 
the  spot  the  next  day. 

'^  0,  my  bonny  bairn,''  said  the  old  dame,  for,  in  the 
kindness  of  her  heart,  she  extended  her  parental  style  to  all 
in  whom  she  was  interested,  ^'you  should  beware  mair  than 
other  folk.  There's  been  a  heavy  breach  made  in  your  house 
wi'  your  father's  bloodshed,  and  wi'  law  pleas  and  losses  sin- 
syne  ;  and  you  are  the  flower  of  the  flock,  and  the  lad  that 
will  build  up  the  auld  bigging  again — if  it  be  His  will — to  be 
an  honor  to  the  country  and  a  safeguard  to  those  that  dwell 
in  it.  You,  before  others,  are  called  upon  to  put  yoursell  in 
no  rash  adventures ;  for  yours  was  aye  ower-venturesome  a 
race,  and  muckle  harm  they  have  got  by  it." 

'^  But  I  am  sure,  my  good  friend,"  said  Earnscliff,  '*^you 
would  not  have  me  be  afraid  of  going  to  an  open  moor  in 
broad  daylight  ?" 

^'  I  dinnaken,"  said  the  good  old  dame  ',  "  1  wad  never  bid 
son  or  friend  o'  mine  baud  their  hand  back  in  a  gude  cause, 
whether  it  were  a  friend's  or  their  ain  ;  that  should  be  by  nae 
bidding  of  mine,  or  of  onybody  that's  come  of  a  gentle  kindred. 
But  it  winna  gang  out  of  a  gray  head  like  mine  that  to  gang 
to  seek  for  evil  that's  no  fashing  wi'  you  is  clean  against  law 
and  Scripture." 

Earnscliif  resigned  an  argument  which  he  saw  no  prospect 
of  maintaining  with  good  effect,  and  the  entrance  of  supper 
broke  off  the  conversation.  Miss  Grace  had  by  tliis  time  made 
her  appearance,  and  Hobbie,  not  without  a  conscious  glance 
at  Earnscliff,  placed  himself  by  her  side.  Mirth  and  lively 
conversation,  in  which  the  old  lady  of  the  house  took  the 
good-humored  share  which  so  well  becomes  old  age,  restored 
to  the  cheeks  of  the  damsels  the  roses  which  their  brother's 
tale  of  the  apparition  had  chased  away,  and  they  danced  and 
sang  for  an  hour  after  supper  as  if  there  were  no  such  things 
as  goblins  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  rV 

I  am  Misanthropes,  and  hate  mankind ; 
For  thy  part,  I  do  wish  thou  wert  a  dog, 
That  I  might  love  thee  something. 

Timon  of  Athens. 

On  the  following  morning,  after  breakfast,  Eamscliff  took 
leave  of  his  hospitable  friends,  promising  to  return  in  time  to 
partake  of  the  venison,  which  had  arrived  from  his  house. 
Hobbie,  who  apparently  took  leave  of  him  at  the  door  of  his 
habitation,  slunk  out,  however,  and  joined  him  at  the  top  of 
the  hill. 

"Ye'll  be  gaun  yonder,  Mr.  Patrick;  fient  o^  me  will 
mistryst  you  for  a'  my  mother  says.  I  thought  it  best  to  slip 
out  quietly  though,  in  case  she  should  mislippen  something 
of  what  we're  gaun  to  do  ;  we  maunna  vex  her  at  nae  rate,  it 
was  amaist  the  last  word  my  father  said  to  me  on  his  death- 
bed.^' 

*^  By  no  means,  Hobbie, '^  said  Eamscliff ;  '^  she  well  merits 
all  your  attention. '' 

**  Troth,  for  that  matter,  she  would  be  as  sair  vexed 
amaist  for  you  as  for  me.  But  d^'ye  really  think  there's  nae 
presumption  in  venturing  back  yonder  ?  We  hae  nae  special 
commission,  ye  ken.'' 

"  If  I  thought  as  you  do,  Hobbie,"  said  the  young  gentleman, 
"  I  would  not  perhaps  inquire  farther  into  this  business;  but,  as 
I  am  of  opinion  that  preternatural  visitations  are  either  ceased 
altogether  or  become  very  rare  in  our  days,  I  am  unwilling  to 
leave  a  matter  uninvestigated  which  may  concern  the  life  of  a 
poor  distracted  being." 

"Aweel,  aweel,  if  ye  really  think  that,"  answered  Hobbie, 
doubtfully.  ''^  And  it's  for  certain  the  very  fairies — I  mean 
the  very  good  neighbors  themsells,  for  they  say  folk  suldna  ca' 
them  fairies — that  used  to  be  seen  on  every  green  knowe  at 
e'en,  are  no  half  sae  often  visible  in  our  days.  I  canna  depone 
to  having  ever  seen  ane  mysell,  but  I  ance  heard  ane  wliistle 
ahint  me  in  the  moss,  as  like  a  whaup  as  ae  thing  could  be 
like  anither.     And  mony  ane  my  father  saw  when  he  used  to 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  3i 

come  hame  f rae  the  fairs  at  e'en,  wi'  a  drap  drink  in  his  head, 
honest  man/' 

Earnscliff  was  somewhat  entertained  with  the  gradual  de- 
clension of  superstition  from  one  generation  to  another  which 
was  inferred  in  this  last  observation ;  and  they  continued  to 
reason  on  such  subjects  until  they  came  in  sight  of  the  up- 
right stone  which  gave  name  to  the  moor. 

*^  As  I  shall  answer,"  saysHobbie,  ^^yonder's  the  creature 
creeping  about  yet !  But  it's  daylight,  and  you  have  your 
gun,  and  I  brought  out  my  bit  whinger  ;  I  think  we  may  ven« 
ture  on  him." 

'*By  all  manner  of  means,"  said  Eamscliff  ;  *'but,  in  the 
name  of  wonder,  what  can  he  be  doing  there  ?" 

^'  Biggin  a  dry-stane  dike,  I  think,  wi'  the  gray  geese,  as 
they  ca'  thae  great  loose  stanes.  Odd,  that  passes  a'  thing  I 
e'er  heard  tell  of  ! " 

As  they  approached  nearer,  Earnscliff  could  not  help 
agreeing  with  his  companion.  The  figure  they  had  seen  the 
night  before  seemed  slowly  and  toilsomely  laboring  to  pile  the 
large  stones  one  upon  another,  as  if  to  form  a  small  inclosure. 
Materials  lay  around  him  in  great  plenty,  but  the  labor  of 
carrying  on  the  work  was  immense,  from  the  size  of  most  of 
the  stones ;  and  it  seemed  astonishing  that  he  should  have 
succeeded  in  moving  several  which  he  had  already  arranged 
for  the  foundation  of  his  edifice.  He  was  struggling  to  move 
a  fragment  of  great  size  when  the  two  young  men  came  up, 
and  was  so  intent  upon  executing  his  purpose  that  he  did  not 
perceive  them  till  they  were  close  upon  him.  In  straining 
and  heaving  at  the  stone,  in  order  to  place  it  according  to  his 
wish,  he  displayed  a  degree  of  strength  which  seemed  utterly 
inconsistent  with  his  size  and  apparent  deformity.  Indeed, 
to  judge  from  the  difficulties  he  had  already  surmounted,  he 
must  have  been  of  Herculean  powers  ;  for  some  of  the  stones 
he  had  succeeded  in  raising  apparently  required  two  men's 
strength  to  have  moved  them.  Hobble's  suspicions  began  to 
revive  on  seeing  the  preternatural  strength  he  exerted. 

'*!  am  amaist  persuaded  it's  the  ghaist  of  a  stane-mason ; 
see  siccan  band- stanes  as  he's  laid  !  An  it  be  a  man  after  a', 
I  wonder  what  he  wad  take  by  the  rood  to  build  a  march 
dike.  There's  ane  sair  wanted  between  Cringlehope  and  the 
Shaws.  Honest  man  [raising  his  voice],  ye  make  good  firm 
wark  there  ?  " 

The  being  whom  he  addressed  raised  his  eyes  with  a 
ghastly  stare,  and,  getting  up  from  his  stooping  posture, 
stood  before  them  in  all  his  native  and  hideous  deformity. 


22  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

His  head  was  of  uncommon  size,  covered  with  a  fell  of  shaggy 
hair,  partly  grizzled  with  age ;  his  eyebrows,  shaggy  and 
prominent,  overhung  a  pair  of  small,  dark,  piercing  eyes,  set 
far  back  in  their  sockets,  that  rolled  with  a  portentous  wild- 
ness,  indicative  of  a  partial  insanity.  The  rest  of  his  features 
were  of  the  coarse,  rough-hewn  stamp  with  which  a  painter 
would  equip  a  giant  in  romance  ;  to  which  was  added  the 
wild,  irregular,  and  peculiar  expression  so  often  seen  in  the 
countenances  of  those  whose  persons  are  deformed.  His  body, 
thick  and  square,  like  that  of  a  man  of  middle  size,  was 
mounted  upon  two  large  feet;  but  nature  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  the  legs  and  the  thighs,  or  they  were  so  very  short 
as  to  be  hidden  by  the  dress  which  he  wore.  His  arms  were 
long  and  brawny,  furnished  with  two  muscular  hands,  and, 
where  uncovered  in  the  eagerness  of  his  labor,  were  shagged 
with  coarse  black  hair.  It  seemed  as  if  nature  had  originally 
intended  the  separate  parts  of  his  body  to  be  the  members  of 
a  giant,  but  had  afterwards  capriciously  assigned  them  to  the 
person  of  a  dwarf,  so  ill  did  the  length  of  his  arms  and  the 
iron  strength  of  his  frame  correspond  with  the  shortness  of 
his  stature.  His  clothing  was  a  sort  of  coarse  brown  tunic, 
like  a  monk's  frock,  girt  round  him  with  a  belt  of  sealskin. 
On  his  head  he  had  a  cap  made  of  badger's  skin  or  some  other 
rough  fur,  which  added  considerably  to  the  grotesque  effect 
of  his  whole  appearance,  and  overshadowed  features  whose 
habitual  expression  seemed  that  of  sullen  malignant  misan- 
thropy. 

This  remarkable  dwarf  gazed  on  the  two  youths  in  si- 
lence, with  a  dogged  and  irritated  look,  until  Earnscliff, 
willing  to  soothe  him  into  better  temper,  observed,  ^'  You 
are  hard  tasked,  my  friend  ;  allow  us  to  assist  you." 

Elliot  and  he  accordingly  placed  the  stone,  by  their  joint 
efforts,  upon  the  rising  wall.  The  Dwarf  watched  them  with 
the  eye  of  a  taskmaster,  and  testified  by  peevish  gestures  his 
impatience  at  the  time  which  they  took  in  adjusting  the 
stone.  He  pointed  to  another,  they  raised  it  also  ;  to  a  third, 
to  a  fourth.  They  continued  to  humor  him,  though  with 
some  trouble,  for  he  assigned  them,  as  if  intentionally,  the 
heaviest  fragments  which  lay  near. 

**  And  now,  friend,"  said  Elliot,  as  the  unreasonable  Dwarf 
indicated  another  stone  larger  than  any  they  had  moved, 
"  Earnscliff  may  do  as  he  likes  ;  but  be  ye  man  or  be  ye  waur, 
deil  be  in  my  fingers  if  I  break  my  back  wi'  heaving  thae  stanes 
ony  langer  like  a  barrow-man,  without  getting  sae  muckle  a8 
thanks  for  my  pains." 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  28 

"  Thanks  ! ''  exclaimed  the  Dwarf,  with  a  motion  expres- 
sive of  the  utmost  contempt.  '^  There,  take  them  and  fatten 
upon  them  !  Take  them  and  may  they  thrive  with  you  as 
they  have  done  with  me,  as  they  have  done  with  every  mortal 
worm  that  ever  heard  the  word  spoken  by  his  fellow  reptile  ! 
Hence  ;  either  labor  or  begone  ! " 

'^  This  is  a  fine  reward  we  have,  Earnscliff,  for  building  a 
tabernacle  for  the  devil,  and  prejudicing  our  ain  souls  into 
the  bargain,  for  what  we  ken/' 

''  Our  presence,^'  answered  Earnscliff,  ^'^  seems  only  to  ir- 
ritate his  frenzy  ;  we  had  better  leave  him  and  send  some  one 
to  provide  him  with  food  and  necessaries/' 

They  did  so.  The  servant  dispatched  for  this  purpose 
found  the  Dwarf  still  laboring  at  his  wall,  but  could  not  ex- 
tract a  word  from  him.  The  lad,  infected  with  the  supersti- 
tions of  the  country,  did  not  long  persist  in  an  attempt  to 
intrude  questions  or  advice  on  so  singular  a  figure,  but,  hav- 
ing placed  the  articles  which  he  had  brought  for  his  use  on  a 
stone  at  some  distance,  he  left  them  at  the  misanthrope's 
disposal. 

The  Dwarf  proceeded  in  his  labors  day  after  day  with  an 
assiduity  so  incredible  as  to  appear  almost  supernatural.  In 
one  day  he  often  seemed  to  have  done  the  work  of  two  men, 
and  his  building  soon  assumed  the  appearance  of  the  walls 
of  a  hut,  which,  though  very  small,  and  constructed  only  of 
stones  and  turf,  \^ithoutany  mortar,  exhibited,  from  the  un- 
usual size  of  the  stones  employed,  an  appearance  of  solidity 
very  uncommon  for  a  cottage  of  such  narrow  dimensions  and 
rude  construction.  Earnscliil,  attentive  to  his  motions,  no 
sooner  perceived  to  what  they  tended  than  he  sent  down  a 
number  of  spars  of  wood  suitable  for  forming  the  roof,  which 
he  caused  to  be  left  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  spot,  resolving 
next  day  to  send  workmen  to  put  them  up.  But  his  purpose 
was  anticipated,  for  in  the  evening,  during  the  night,  and 
early  in  the  morning  the  Dwarf  had  labored  so  hard,  and  with 
such  ingenuity,  that  he  had  nearly  completed  the  adjustment 
of  the  rafters.  His  next  labor  was  to  cut  rushes  and  thatch 
his  dwelling,  a  task  which  he  performed  with  singular  dex- 
terity. 

As  he  seemed  averse  to  receive  any  aid  beyond  the  oc- 
casional assistance  of  a  passenger,  materials  suitable  to  his 
purpose  and  tools  were  supplied  to  him,  in  the  use  of  which 
he  proved  to  be  skilful.  He  constructed  the  door  and  win- 
dow of  his  cot,  he  adjusted  a  rude  bedstead  and  a  few  shelves, 
and  appeared  to  become  somewhat  soothed  in  his  temper  as 
his  accommodations  increased* 


24  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

His  next  task  was  to  form  a  strong  in  closure  and  to  cul- 
tivate the  land  within  it  to  the  best  of  his  power  ;  until,  by 
transporting  mould  and  working  up  what  was  upon  the  spot, 
he  formed  a  patch  of  garden-ground.  It  must  be  naturally 
supposed  that,  as  above  hinted,  this  solitary  being  received 
assistance  occasionally  from  such  travellers  as  crossed  the 
moor  by  chance,  as  well  as  from  several  who  went  from  curios- 
ity to  visit  his  works.  It  was,  indeed,  impossible  to  see  a 
human  creature,  so  unfitted,  at  first  sight,  for  hard  labor, 
toiling  with  such  unremitting  assiduity,  without  stopping  a 
few  minutes  to  aid  him  in  his  task  ;  and  as  no  one  of  his  oc- 
casional assistants  was  acquainted  with  the  degree  of  help 
which  the  Dwarf  had  received  from  others,  the  celerity  of  his 
progress  lost  none  of  its  marvels  in  their  eyes.  The  strong 
and  compact  appearance  of  the  cottage,  formed  in  so  very 
short  a  space,  and  by  such  a  being,  and  the  superior  skill 
which  he  displayed  in  mechanics  and  in  other  arts,  gave  sus- 
picion to  the  surrounding  neighbors.  They  insisted  that,  if 
he  was  not  a  phantom — an  opinion  which  was  now  aban- 
doned, since  he  plainly  appeared  a  being  of  blood  and  bone 
with  themselves — yet  he  must  be  in  close  league  with  the  in- 
visible world,  and  have  chosen  that  sequestered  spot  to  carry 
on  his  communication  with  them  undisturbed.  They  in- 
sisted, though  in  a  diiferent  sense  from  the  philosopher's  ap- 
plication of  the  phrase,  that  he  was  never  less  alone  than 
when  alone ;  and  that  from  the  heights  which  commanded 
the  moor  at  a  distance  passengers  often  discovered  a  person 
at  work  along  with  this  dweller  of  the  desert,  who  regularly 
disappeared  as  soon  as  they  approached  closer  to  the  cottage. 
Such  a  figure  was  also  occasionally  seen  sitting  beside  him  at 
the  door,  walking  with  him  in  the  moor,  or  assisting  him  in 
fetching  water  from  his  fountain.  Earnscliff  explained  this 
phenomenon  by  supposing  it  to  be  the  Dwarfs  shadow. 

'^Deil  a  shadow  has  he,''  replied  Hobbie  Elliot,  who  was 
a  strenuous  defender  of  the  general  opinion  ;  '^he's  owei-  far 
in  wi'  the  Auld  Ane  to  have  a  shadow.  Besides,"  he  argued 
more  logically,  ''  wha  ever  heard  of  a  shadow  that  cam  between 
a  body  and  the  sun?  and  this  thing,  be  it  what  it  will,  is 
thinner  and  taller  than  the  body  himsell,  and  has  been  seen 
to  come  between  him  and  the  sun  mair  than  anes  or  twice 
either." 

These  suspicions,  which,  in  any  other  part  of  the  country, 
might  have  been  attended  with  investigations  a  little  incon- 
venient to  the  supposed  wizard,  were  here  only  productive  of 
respect  and  awe.     The  recluse  being  seemed  somewhat  grati- 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  25 

fied  by  the  marks  of  timid  veneration  with  which  an  occa 
sional  passenger  approached  his  dwelling,  the  look  of  startled 
surprise  with  which  he  surveyed  his  person  and  his  premises, 
and  the  hurried  step  with  which  he  pressed  his  retreat  as  he 
passed  the  awful  spot.  The  boldest  only  stopped  to  gratify 
their  curiosity  by  a  hasty  glance  at  the  walls  of  his  cottage 
and  garden,  and  to  apologize  for  it  by  a  courteous  salutation, 
which  the  inmate  sometimes  deigned  to  return  by  a  word  or 
a  nod.  Earnscliff  often  passed  that  way,  and  seldom  without 
inquiring  after  the  solitary  inmate,  who  seemed  now  to  have 
arranged  his  establishment  for  life. 

It  was  impossible  to  engage  him  in  any  conversation  on 
his  own  personal  affairs  ;  nor  was  he  communicative  or  acces- 
sible in  talking  on  any  other  subject  whatever,  although  he 
seemed  to  have  considerably  relented  in  the  extreme  ferocity 
of  his  misanthropy,  or  rather  to  be  less  frequently  visited 
with  the  fits  of  derangement  of  which  this  irritation  was  a 
symptom.  No  argument  could  prevail  upon  him  to  accept 
anything  beyond  the  simplest  necessaries,  although  much 
more  was  offered  by  Earnscliff  out  of  charity,  and  by  his  more 
superstitious  neighbors  from  other  motives.  The  benefits  of 
these  last  he  repaid  by  advice,  when  consulted,  as  at  length 
he  slowly  was,  on  their  diseases  or  those  of  their  cattle.  He 
often  furnished  them  with  medicines  also,  and  seemed  pos- 
sessed, not  only  of  such  as  were  the  produce  of  the  country, 
but  of  foreign  drugs.  He  gave  these  persons  to  understand 
that  his  name  was  Elshender  the  Recluse  ;  but  his  popular 
epithet  soon  came  to  be  Canny  Elshie,  or  the  Wise  Wight  of 
Mucklestane  Moor.  Some  extended  their  queries  beyond  their 
bodily  complaints,  and  requested  advice  upon  other  matters, 
which  he  delivered  with  an  oracular  shrewdness  that  greatly 
confirmed  the  opinion  of  his  possessing  preternatural  skill. 
The  querists  usually  left  some  offering  upon  a  stone,  at  a  dis- 
tance from  his  dwelling ;  if  it  was  money,  or  any  article 
which  it  did  not  suit  him  to  accept,  he  either  threw  it  away 
or  suffered  it  to  remain  where  it  was  without  making  use  of 
it.  On  all  occasions  his  manners  were  rude  and  unsocial,  and 
his  words  in  number  just  sufficient  to  express  his  meaning  as 
briefly  as  possible,  and  he  shunned  all  communication  that 
went  a  syllable  beyond  the  matter  in  hand.  When  winter  had 
passed  away  and  his  garden  began  to  afford  him  herbs  and 
vegetables,  he  confined  himself  almost  entirely  to  those  articles 
of  food.  He  accepted,  notwithstanding,  a  pair  of  she-goata 
from  Earnscliff,  which  fed  on  the  moor  and  supplied  him  with 
milk. 


26  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"When  Earnscliff  found  his  gift  had  been  received,  he  soon 
afterwards  paid  the  hermit  a  visit.  The  old  man  was  seated 
on  a  broad  flat  stone  near  his  garden  door,  which  was  the  seat 
of  science  he  usually  occupied  when  disposed  to  receive  his 
patients  or  clients.  The  inside  of  his  hut  and  that  of  his 
garden  he  kept  as  sacred  from  human  intrusion  as  the  natives 
of  Otaheite  do  their  ^^  marai ; "  apparently  he  would  have 
deemed  it  polluted  by  the  step  of  any  human  being.  When  he 
shut  himself  up  in  his  habitation  no  entreaty  could  prevail 
upon  him  to  make  himself  visible,  or  to  give  audience  to  any 
one  whomsoever. 

Earnscliff  had  been  fishing  in  a  small  river  at  some  dis- 
tance. He  had  his  rod  in  his  hand,  and  his  basket,  filled 
with  trout,  at  his  shoulder.  He  sat  down  upon  a  stone 
nearly  opposite  to  the  Dwarf,  who,  familiarized  with  his 
presence,  took  no  farther  notice  of  him  than  by  elevating  his 
huge  misshapen  head  for  the  purpose  of  staring  at  him,  and 
then  again  sinking  it  upon  his  bosom,  as  if  in  profound 
meditation.  Earnscliff  looked  around  him,  and  observed 
that  the  hermit  had  increased  his  accommodations  by  the 
construction  of  a  shed  tor  the  reception  of  his  goats. 

**You  labor  hard,  Elshie,'''  he  said,  willing  to  lead  this 
singular  being  into  conversation. 

**'  Labor, ^"^  re-echoed  the  Dwarf,  *^'is  the  mildest  evil  of  a 
lot  so  miserable  as  that  of  mankind  ;  better  to  labor  like  me 
than  sport  like  you." 

**  I  cannot  defend  the  humanity  of  our  ordinary  rural 
sports,  Elshie,  and  yet " 

"  And  yet,""  interrupted  the  Dwarf,  ''  they  are  better  than 
your  ordinary  business  :  better  to  exercise  idle  and  wanton 
cruelty  on  mute  fishes  than  on  your  fellow-creatures.  Yet 
why  should  I  say  so  ?  Why  should  not  the  whole  human 
herd  butt,  gore,  and  gorge  upon  each  other  till  all  are  extir- 
pated but  one  huge  and  over-fed  Behemoth,  and  he,  when  he 
had  throttled  and  gnawed  the  bones  of  all  his  fellows — he, 
when  his  prey  failed  him,  to  be  roaring  whole  days  for  lack 
of  food,  and,  finally,  to  die  inch  bv  inch  of  famine  ;  it  were  a 
consummation  worthy  of  the  race  I  " 

*'  Your  deeds  are  better,  Elshie,  than  your  words,"  an- 
swered Earnscliff  :  *'you  labor  to  preserve  the  race  whom  your 
misanthropy  slanders." 

"I  do  ;  but  why  ?  Hearken.  You  are  one  on  whom  I 
look  with  the  least  loathing,  and  I  care  not  if,  contrary  to 
my  wont,  I  waste  a  few  words  in  compassion  to  vour  infatu- 
ated blindness.     If  I  cannot  send  disease  into  families  and 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  97 

Tnnrrain  among  the  herds,  can  I  attain  the  same  end  so  well 
as  by  prolonging  the  lives  of  those  who  can  serve  the  purpose 
of  destruction  as  effectually  ?  If  Alice  of  Bower  had  died  in 
winter,  would  young  Ruthwin  have  been  slain  for  her  love 
the  last  spring  ?  Who  thought  of  penning  their  cattle  be- 
neath the  tower  when  the  Red  Reiver  of  Westburnflat  was 
deemed  to  be  on  his  death- bed  ?  My  draughts,  my  skill,  re- 
covered him.  And,  now,  who  dare  leave  his  herd  upon  the 
lea  without  a  watch,  or  go  to  bed  without  unchaining  the 
sleuth-hound  ?  '* 

''I  own,"  answered  Earnscliff,  ''you  did  little  good  to 
society  by  the  last  of  these  cures.  But,  to  balance  the  evil, 
there  is  my  friend  Hobbie — honest  Hobbie  of  the  Heughfoot ; 
your  skill  relieved  him  last  winter  in  a  fever  that  might  have 
cost  him  his  life." 

"  Thus  think  the  children  of  clay  in  their  ignorance," 
said  the  Dwarf,  smiling  maliciously,  ''  and  thus  they  speak 
in  their  folly.  Have  you  marked  the  young  cub  of  a  wild 
cat  that  has  been  domesticated,  how  sportive,  how  playful, 
how  gentle !  But  trust  him  with  your  game,  your  lambs, 
your  poultry,  his  inbred  ferocity  breaks  forth ;  he  gripes, 
tears,  ravages,  and  devours." 

"  Such  is  the  animal's  instinct,"  answered  Earnscliff; 
■'  but  what  has  that  to  do  with  Hobbie  ?  " 

''  It  is  his  emblem,  it  is  his  picture,"  retorted  the  Re- 
cluse. ''  He  is  at  present  tame,  quiet,  and  domesticated,  for 
lack  of  opportunity  to  exercise  his  inborn  propensities  ;  but 
let  the  trumpet  of  war  sound,  let  the  young  bloodhound  snuff 
blood,  he  will  be  ferocious  as  the  wildest  of  his  Border  ances- 
tors that  ever  fired  a  helpless  peasant's  abode.  Can  you  deny 
that  even  at  present  he  often  urges  you  to  take  bloody  re- 
venge for  an  injury  received  when  you  were  a  boy  ?  "  Earns- 
cliff started.  The  Recluse  appeared  not  to  observe  his  sur- 
prise, and  proceeded — ''  The  trumpet  will  blow,  the  young 
bloodliound  loill  lap  blood,  and  I  will  laugh  and  say, 
'  For  this  I  have  preserved  thee  ! ' "  He  paused,  and  con- 
tinued— "  Such  are  my  cures,  their  object,  their  purpose, 
perpetuating  the  mass  of  misery,  and  playing  even  in  this 
desert  my  part  in  the  general  tragedy.  Were  you  on  your 
sick-bed  I  might,  in  compassion,  send  you  a  cup  of  poison." 

*'I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  Elshie,"  answered  the 
Dwarf s  visitor,  shrugging  his  shoulders;  "I  certainly  shall 
not  fail  to  consult  you,  with  so  comfortable  a  hope  from  your 
assistance." 

/'Do  not  flatter  yourself  too  far,"  replied  the  Hermit, 


28      •  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*^with  the  hope  that  I  will  positively  yield  to  the  frailty  of 
pity.  Why  should  I  snatch  a  dupe  so  well  fitted  to  endure 
the  miseries  of  life  as  you  are  from  the  wretchedness  which 
his  own  visions  and  the  villany  of  the  world  are  preparing 
for  him  ?  Why  should  I  play  the  compassionate  Indian,  and, 
knocking  out  the  brains  of  the  captive  with  my  tomahawk, 
at  once  spoil  the  three  days'  amusement  of  my  kindred  tribe, 
at  the  very  moment  when  the  brands  were  lighted,  the  pinchers 
heated,  the  caldrons  boiling,  the  knives  sharpened,  to  tear, 
scorch,  seethe,  and  scarify  the  intended  victim  ? " 

"  A  dreadful  picture  you  present  to  me  of  life,  Elshie  ; 
but  I  am  not  daunted  by  it,''  returned  Earnscliff.  "  We  are 
sent  here,  in  one  sense,  to  bear  and  to  suffer  ;  but,  in  another, 
to  do  and  to  enjoy.  The  active  day  has  its  evening  of  repose ; 
even  patient  sufferance  has  its  alleviations,  where  there  is  a 
consolatory  sense  of  duty  discharged/' 

''I  spurn  at  the  slavish  and  bestial  doctrine,"  said  the 
Dwarf,  his  eyes  kindling  with  insane  fury — ^^  I  spurn  at  it,  as 
worthy  only  of  the  beasts  that  perish ;  but  I  will  waste  no 
more  words  with  you." 

He  rose  hastily ;  but,  ere  he  withdrew  into  the  hut,  he  added 
with  great  vehemence,  "  Yet,  lest  you  still  think  my  apparent 
benefits  to  mankind  flow  from  the  stupid  and  servile  source 
called  love  of  our  fellow-creatures,  know  that,  were  there  a 
man  who  had  annihilated  my  soul's  dearest  hope,  who  had  torn 
my  heart  to  mammocks,  and  seared  my  brain  till  it  glowed  like 
a  volcano,  and  were  that  man's  fortune  and  life  in  my  power 
as  completely  as  this  frail  potsherd  [he  snatched  up  an  earthen 
cup  which  stood  beside  him],  I  would  not  dash  him  into  atoms 
thus  [he  flung  the  vessel  with  fury  against  the  wall] .  No  !  [he 
spoke  more  composedly,  but  with  the  utmost  bitterness],  I 
would  pamper  him  with  wealth  and  power  to  inflame  his  evil 
passions  and  to  fulfil  his  evil  designs  ;  he  should  lack  no  means 
of  vice  and  villany  ;  he  should  be  the  centre  of  a  whirlpool 
that  itself  should  know  neither  rest  nor  peace,  but  boil  with 
unceasing  fury,  while  it  wrecked  every  goodly  ship  that  ap- 
proached its  limits ;  he  should  be  an  earthquake  capable  of 
shaking  the  very  land  in  which  he  dwelt,  and  rendering  all 
its  inhabitants  friendless,  outcast,  and  miserable — as  I  am  !  " 

The  wretched  being  rushed  into  his  hut  as  he  uttered  these 
last  words,  shutting  the  door  with  furious  violence,  and  rapidly 
drawing  two  bolts,  one  after  another,  as  if  to  exclude  the  in- 
trusion of  any  one  of  that  hated  race  who  had  thus  lashed  his 
soul  to  frenzy.  Earnscliff  left  the  moor  with  mingled  sensa- 
tions of  pity  and  horror,  pondering  what  strange  and  melan- 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  29 

choly  cause  could  have  reduced  to  so  miserable  a  state  of  mind 
a  man  whose  language  argued  him  to  be  of  rank  and  educa- 
tion  much  superior  to  the  vulgar.  He  was  also  surprised  to 
see  how  much  particular  information  a  person  who  had  lived 
in  that  country  so  short  a  time,  and  in  so  recluse  a  manner, 
had  been  able  to  collect  respecting  the  dispositions  and  private 
aifairs  of  the  inhabitants. 

^*  It  is  no  wonder,^'  he  said  to  himself,  "  that,  with  such 
extent  of  information,  such  a  mode  of  life,  so  uncouth  a  figure, 
and  sentiments  so  virulently  misanthropic,  this  unfortunate 
should  be  regarded  by  the  vulgar  as  in  league  with  the  Enemy 
of  Mankind/' 


CHAPTEK  V 

The  bleakest  rock  upon  the  loneUest  heath 

Feels,  in  its  barrenness,  some  touch  of  spring  ; 

And,  in  the  April  dew,  or  beam  of  May, 

Its  moss  and  lichen  freshen  and  revive  ; 

And  thus  the  heart,  most  sear'd  to  human  pleasure, 

Melts  at  the  tear,  joys  in  the  smile,  of  woman. 

Beaumont. 

As  the  season  advanced  the  weather  became  more  genial,  and 
the  Recluse  was  more  frequently  found  occupying  the  broad 
flat  stone  in  the  front  of  his  mansion.  As  he  sat  there  one 
day,  about  the  hour  of  noon,  a  party  of  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
well  mounted  and  numerously  attended,  swept  across  the 
heath  at  some  distance  from  his  dwelling.  Dogs,  hawks, 
and  led-horses  swelled  the  retinue,  and  the  air  resounded  at 
intervals  with  the  cheer  of  the  hunters  and  the  sound  of 
horns  blown  by  the  attendants.  The  Recluse  was  about  to 
retire  into  his  mansion  at  the  sight  of  a  train  so  joyous,  when 
three  young  ladies,  with  their  attendants,  who  had  made  a 
circuit  aud  detached  themselves  from  their  party  in  order  to 
gratify  their  curiosity  by  a  sight  of  the  Wise  Wight  of  Muck- 
lestane  Moor,  came  suddenly  up  ere  he  could  effect  his 
purpose.  The  first  shrieked  and  put  her  hands  before  her 
eyes  at  sight  of  an  object  so  unusually  deformed.  The 
secoud,  with  a  hysterical  giggle,  which  she  intended  should 
disguise  her  terrors,  asked  the  Recluse  whether  he  could  tell 
their  fortune.  The  third,  who  was  best  mounted,  best  dressed, 
and  incomparably  the  best-looking  of  the  three,  advanced,  as 
if  to  cover  the  incivility  of  her  companions. 
.  *'  We  have  lost  the  right  path  ^that  leads  through  these 
morasses,  and  our  party  have  gone  forward  without  us,"  said 
the  young  lady.     "  Seeing  you,  father,  at  the  door  of  your 

house,  we  have  turned  this  way  to " 

''Hush!''  interrupted  the  Dwarf;  ''so  young  and 
already  so  artful !  You  came — you  know  you  came,  to  exult 
in  the  consciousness  of  your  own  youth,  wealth,  and  beauty, 
by  contrasting  them  with  age,  poverty,  and  deformity.     It  is 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  31 

a  fit  employment  for  the  daughter  of  yourfatner;  but  0  how 
unlike  the  child  of  your  mother  ! " 

"Did  you,  then,  know  my  parents,  and  do  you  know 
me?'' 

''Yes;  this  is  the  first  time  you  have  crossed  my  waking 
eyes,  but  I  have  seen  you  in  my  dreams/' 

''Your  dreams  ?" 

"Ay,  Isabel  Vere.  What  hast  thou  or  thine  to  do  with 
my  waking  thoughts  ?" 

"Your  waking  thoughts,  sir,"  said  the  second  of  Miss 
Vere's  companions,  with  a  sort  of  mock  gravity,  "are  fixed, 
doubtless,  upon  wisdom ;  folly  can  only  intrude  on  your 
sleeping  moments." 

"  Over  thine,"  retorted  the  Dwarf,  more  splenetically  than 
became  a  philosopher  or  hermit,  "  folly  exercises  an  unlim- 
ited empire,  asleep  or  awake." 

" Lord  bless  us ! "  said  the  lady,  "he's  a  prophet,  sure 
enough." 

"As  surely,"  continued  the  Recluse,  "as  thou  art  a 
woman.  A  woman  !  I  should  have  said  a  lady — a  fine  lady. 
You  asked  me  to  tell  your  fortune  :  it  is  a  simple  one — an 
endless  chase  through  life  after  follies  not  worth  catching, 
and,  when  caught,  successively  thrown  away — a  chase  pur- 
sued from  the  days  of  tottering  infancy  to  those  of  old  age 
upon  his  crutches.  Toys  and  merry-makings  in  childhood, 
love  and  its  absurdities  in  youth,  spadille  and  basto  in  age, 
shall  succeed  each  other  as  objects  of  pursuit — flowers  and 
butterflies  in  spring,  butterflies  and  thistle-down  in  summer, 
withered  leaves  in  autumn  and  winter — all  pursued,  all 
caught,  all  flung  aside.     Stand  apart ;  your  fortune  is  said." 

"  All  caught y  however,"  retorted  the  laughing  fair  one, 
who  was  a  cousin  of  Miss  Vere's ;  "that's  something, 
Nancy,"  she  continued,  turning  to  the  timid  damsel  who  had 
first  approached  the  Dwarf.     "  Will  you  ask  your  fortune  ?" 

"  Not  for  worlds,"  said  she,  drawing  back  ;  "  I  have  heard 
enough  of  yours." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Miss  Ilderton,  offering  money  to  the 
Dwarf,  "I'll  pay  for  mine,  as  if  it  were  spoken  by  an  oracle 
to  a  princess."  - 

"  Truth,"  said  the  Soothsayer,  "  can  neither  be  bought 
nor  sold ; "  and  he  pushed  back  her  proffered  offering  with 
morose  disdain. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  lady,  "  I'll  keep  my  money,  Mr. 
Elshender,  to  assist  me  in  the  chase  I  am  to  pursue." 

"You  will  need  it,"  replied  the  cynic  ;  "without it,  few 


32  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pursue  successfully,  and  fewer  are  themselves  pursued. 
Stop  ! "  he  said  to  Miss  Vere,  as  her  companions  moved  off, 
"with  you  I  have  more  to  say.  You  have  what  your  com- 
panions would  wish  to  have,  or  be  thought  to  have — beauty, 
wealth,  station,  accomplishments/' 

''Forgive  my  following  my  companions,  father, ''  said  the 
young  lady,  no  way  desirous  of  a  tete-a-tete;  *'I  am  proof 
both  to  flattery  and  fortune- telling/' 

''  Stay,'' continued  the  Dwarf,  with  his  hand  on  her  horse's 
rein,  ''  I  am  no  common  soothsayer  and  I  am  no  flatterer. 
All  the  advantages  I  have  detailed,  all  and  each  of  them  have 
their  corresponding  evils — unsuccessful  love,  crossed  affections, 
the  gloom  of  a  convent,  or  an  odious  alliance.  I,  who  wish 
ill  to  all  mankind,  cannot  wish  more  evil  to  you,  so  much  is 
your  course  of  life  crossed  by  it." 

''  And  if  it  be,  father,"  answered  Miss  Vere,  gently,  ''let 
me  enjoy  the  readiest  solace  of  adversity  while  prosperity  is  in 
my  power.  You  are  old  ;  you  are  poor  ;  your  habitation  is 
far  from  human  aid,  were  you  ill  or  in  want ;  your  situation 
in  many  respects  exposes  you  to  the  suspicions  of  the  vulgar, 
which  are  too  apt  to  break  out  into  actions  of  brutality.  Let  me 
think  I  have  mended  the  lot  of  one  human  being  !  Accept 
of  such  assistance  as  I  have  power  to  offer  ;  do  this  for  my 
sakd,  if  not  for  your  own,  that,  when  these  evils  arise  w^hich 
you  prophesy  perhaps  too  truly,  I  may  not  have  to  reflect  that 
the  hours  of  my  happier  time  have  been  passed  altogether  in 
vain." 

The  old  man  answered  with  a  broken  voice,  and  almost 
without  addressing  himself  to  the  young  lady  :  "  Yes,  'tis  thus 
thou  shouldst  think,  'tis  thus  thou  shouldst  speak,  if  ever 
human  speech  and  thought  kept  touch  with  each  other  ! 
They  do  not — they  do  not.  Alas  I  they  cannot.  And  yet — 
wait  here  an  instant,  stir  not  till  my  return."  He  went  to  his 
little  garden,  and  returned  with  a  half -blown  rose.  "  Thou 
hast  made  me  shed  a  tear,  the  first  which  has  wet  my  eyelids 
for  many  a  year ;  for  that  good  deed  receive  this  token  of 
gratitude.  It  is  but  a  common  rose  ;  preserve  it,  however, 
.and  do  not  part  with  it..'.  Come  to  me  in  your  hour  of  adver- 
sity. Show  me  that  rose,  or  but  one  leaf  of  it,  were  it 
withered  as  my  heart  is  ;  if  I  should  see  the  token  even  in  my 
fiercest  and  wildest  movements  of  rage  against  a  hateful  world, 
still  it  will  recall  gentler  thoughts  to  my  bosom,  and  perhaps 
afford  happier  prospects  to  thme.  But  no  message,'  he  ex- 
claimed, rising  into  his  usual  mood  of  misanthropy^ — ''no 
message — no  go-between  I    Come  thyself ;  and  the  heart  and 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  8» 

the  doors  that  are  shut  against  every  other  earthly  being  shall 
open  to  thee  and  to  thy  sorrows.     And  now  pass  on.'' 

He  let  go  the  bridle-rein,  and  the  young  lady  rode  on, 
after  expressing  her  thanks  to  this  singular  being  as  well  as 
her  surprise  at  the  extraordinary  nature  of  his  address  would 
permit,  often  turning  back  to  look  at  the  Dwarf,  who  still 
remained  at  the  door  of  his  habitation,  and  watched  her  prog- 
ress over  the  moor  towards  her  father's  castle  of  Ellieslaw, 
until  the  brow  of  the  hill  hid  the  party  from  his  sight. 

The  ladies,  meantime,  jested  with  Miss  Vere  on  the 
strange  interview  they  had  just  had  with  the  far-famed  Wiz- 
ard of  the  Moor.  '-Isabella  has  all  the  luck  at  home  and 
abroad  !  Her  hawk  strikes  down  the  blackcock ;  her  eyes 
wound  the  gallant  ;  no  chance  for  her  poor  companions  and 
kinswomen  ;  even  the  conjuror  cannot  escape  the  force  of  her 
charms.  You  should,  in  compassion,  cease  to  be  such  an  en- 
grosser, my  dear  Isabel,  or  at  least  set  up  shop  and  sell  off  all 
the  goods  you  do  not  meam  to  keep  for  your  own  use.'' 

*'  You  shall  have  them  all,"  replied  Miss  Vere,  *'and  the 
conjuror  to  boot,  at  a  very  easy  rate." 

*'  ^o  !  Nancy  shall  have  the  conjuror,"  said  Miss  Ilderton, 
*'  to  supply  deficiencies  ;  she's  not  quite  a  witch  herself,  you 
know." 

"Lord,  sister,"  answered  the  younger  Miss  Ilderton, 
''what  could  I  do  with  so  frightful  a  monster  ?  I  kept  my 
eyes  shut  after  once  glancing  at  him  ;  and  I  protest  I  thought 
I  saw  him  still,  though  I  winked  as  close  as  ever  I  could." 

"  That's  a  pity,"  said  her  sister  ;  "ever  while  you  live, 
Nancy,  choose  an  admirer  whose  faults  can  be  hid  by  winking 
at  them.  Well,  then,  I  must  take  him  myself,  I  suppose,  and 
put  him  into  mamma's  Japan  cabinet,  in  order  to  show  that 
Scotland  can  produce  a  specimen  of  mortal  clay  moulded  into 
a  form  ten  thousand  times  uglier  than  the  imaginations  of 
Canton  and  Pekin,  fertile  as  they  are  in  monsters,  have  im- 
mortalized in  porcelain." 

"  There  is  something,"  said  Miss  Vere,  "so  melancholy  in 
the  situation  of  this  poor  man  that  I  cannot  enter  into  your 
mirth,  Lucy,  so  readily  as  usual.  If  he  has  no  resources,  how 
is  he  to  exist  in  this  waste  country,  living,  as  he  does,  at  such 
a  distance  from  mankind  ?  and  if  he  has  the  means  of  secur- 
ing occasional  assistance,  will  not  the  very  suspicion  that  he 
is  possessed  of  them  expose  him  to  plunder  and  assassination 
by  some  of  our  unsettled  neighbors  ?  " 

"  But  you  forget  that  they  say  he  is  a  warlock,"  said 
Nancy  Ilderton. 


U  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Ana,  if  liis  magic  diabolical  should  fail  him/'  rejoined 
her  sister,  '^  I  would  have  him  trust  to  his  magic  natural, 
and  thrust  his  enormous  head  and  most  preternatural  visage 
out  at  his  door  or  window,  full  in  view  of  the  assailants. 
The  boldest  robber  that  ever  rode  would  hardly  bide  a  second 
glance  of  him.  Well,  I  wish  I  had  the  use  of  that  Gorgon 
head  of  his  for  only  one  half-hour." 

*'  For  what  purpose,  Lucy  ?  "  said  Miss  Vere. 

"Oil  would  frighten  out  of  the  castle  that  dark,  «tiff, 
and  stately  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  that  is  so  great  a  favorite 
with  your  father,  and  so  little  a  favorite  of  yours.  I  protest 
I  shall  be  obliged  to  the  Wizard  as  long  as  I  live,  if  it  were 
only  for  the  half-hour's  relief  from  that  man's  company 
which  we  have  gained  by  deviating  from  the  party  to  visit 
Elshie." 

"  What  would  you  say,  then,"  said  Miss  Vere,  in  a  low 
tone,  so  as  not  to  be  heard  by  the  younger  sister,  who  rode 
before  them,  the  narrow  path  not  admitting  of  their  moving 
all  three  abreast — "  what  would  you  say,  my  dearest  Lucy,  if 
it  were  proposed  to  you  to  endure  his  company  for  life  ?  " 

*'  Say  ?  I  would  say,  '  No,  no,  no,'  three  times,  each 
louder  than  another,  till  they  should  hear  me  at  Carlisle." 

"And  Sir  Frederick  would  say  then,  'Nineteen  nay-says 
are  half  a  grant.'" 

"'  That,"  replied  Miss  Lucy,  "  depends  entirely  on  the 
manner  in  which  the  nay-says  are  said.  Mine  should  have 
not  one  grain  of  concession  in  them,  I  promise  you." 

"  But  if  your  father,"  said  Miss  Vere,  "  were  to  say, 
'  Thus  do,  or ' " 

"  I  would  stand  to  the  consequences  of  his  '  or,'  were  he 
the  most  cruel  father  that  ever  was  recorded  in  romance,  to 
fill  up  the  alternative." 

"  And  what  if  he  threatened  you  with  a  Catholic  aunt,  an 
abbess,  and  a  cloister  ?  " 

"Then,"  said  Miss  Ilderton,  "I  would  threaten  him  with 
a  Protestant  son-in-law,  and  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  dis- 
obey him  for  conscience  sake.  And  now  that  Nancy  is  out  of 
hearing,  let  me  really  say,  I  think  you  would  be  excusable  be- 
fore God  and  man  for  resisting  this  preposterous  match  by 
every  means  in  your  power.  A  proud,  dark,  ambitious  man, 
a  caballer  against  the  state,  infamous  for  his  avarice  and  se- 
verity, a  bad  son,  a  bad  brother,  unkind  and  ungenerous  to 
all  his  relatives.     Isabel,  I  would  die  rather  than  have  him." 

"  Don't  let  my  father  hear  you  give  me  such  advice,"  said 
Miss  Vere,  "or  adieu,  my  dear  Lucy,  to  Ellieslaw  Castle." 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  85 

^^  And  adien  to  Ellieslaw  Castle,  with  all  my  heart/'  said 
her  friend,  ^'  if  I  once  saw  you  fairly  out  of  it,  and  settled 
under  some  kinder  protector  than  he  whom  nature  has  given 
you.  0,  if  my  poor  father  had  been  in  his  former  health, 
iiow  gladly  would  he  have  received  and  sheltered  you  till  this 
ridiculous  and  cruel  persecution  were  blown  over  \" 

^'  AVould  to  God  it  had  been  so,  my  dear  Lucy  ! "  answered 
Isabella;  ^^but  I  fear  that,  in  your  father's  weak  state  of 
health,  he  would  be  altogether  unable  to  protect  me  against 
the  means  which  would  be  immediately  used  for  reclaiming 
the  poor  fugitive/' 

'^'^  I  fear  so  indeed,'' replied  Miss  Ilderton  ;  '''but  we  will 
consider  and  devise  something.  Now  that  your  father  and 
his  guests  seem  so  deeply  engaged  in  some  mysterious  plot,  to 
judge  from  the  passing  and  returning  of  messages,  from  the 
strange  faces  which  appear  and  disappear  without  being  an- 
nounced by  their  names,  from  the  collecting  and  cleaning  of 
arms,  and  the  anxious  gloom  and  bustle  which  seem  to  agi- 
tate every  male  in  the  castle,  it  may  not  be  impossible  for  us 
— always  in  case  matters  be  driven  to  extremity — to  shape  out 
some  little  supplemental  conspiracy  of  our  own.  I  hope  the 
gentlemen  have  not  kept  all  the  policy  to  themselves ;  and 
there  is  one  associate  that  I  would  gladly  admit  to  our 
counsel." 

"Not  Nancy?" 

"  0  no  !"  said  Miss  Ilderton.  ''Nancy,  though  an  excel- 
lent good  girl,  and  fondly  attached  to  you,  would  make  a  dull 
conspirator — as  dull  as  Renault  and  all  the  other  subordinate 
plotters  in  Venice  Preserved.  No  ;  this  is  a  Jaffeir,  or  Pierre, 
if  you  like  the  character  better ;  and  yet,  though  I  know  I 
shall  please  you,  I  am  afraid  to  mention  his  name  to  you,  lest 
I  vex  you  at  the  same  time.  Can  you  not  guess  ?  Some- 
thing about  an  eagle  and  a  rock  ;  it  does  not  begin  with  eagle 
in  English,  but  something  very  like  it  in  Scotch." 

"  You  cannot  mean  young  Earnscliff,  Lucy  ?"  said  Miss 
Vere,  blushing  deeply. 

"  And  whom  else  should  I  mean  ?  "said  Lucy.  "  Jaffeirs 
and  Pierres  are  very  scarce  in  this  country,  I  take  it,  though 
one  could  find  Renaults  and  Bedamars  enow." 

"  How  can  you  talk  so  wildly,  Lucy  ?  Your  plays  and  ro- 
mances have  positively  turned  your  brain.  You  know  that, 
independent  of  my  father's  consent,  without  which  I  never 
will  marry  any  one,  and  which,  in  the  case  you  point  at, 
would  never  be  granted  ;  independent,  too,  of  our  Knowing 
nothing  of  young  Earnscliff's  inclinations,  but  by  your  own 


86  WAVERLEY  NOVELL 

wild  conjecttires  and  fancies — besides  all  this,  there  is  the 
fatal  brawl ! " 

^'  When  his  father  was  killed  ?'^  said  Lucy.  ^'  But  that 
was  very  long  ago  ;  and  I  hope  we  have  ontlived  the  time  of 
bloody  fend,  when  a  quarrel  was  carried  down  between  two 
families  from  father  to  son,  like  a  Spanish  game  at  chess,  and 
a  murderer  two,  like  the  taking  of  a  piece,  committed  in  3very 
generation,  just  to  keep  the  matter  from  going  to  sleep.  We 
do  with  our  quarrels  nowadays  as  with  our  clothes — cut  them 
out  for  ourselves,  and  wear  them  out  in  our  own  day,  and 
should  no  more  think  of  resenting  our  fathers^  feuds  than  of 
wearing  their  slashed  doublets  and  trunk-hose/^ 

''You  treat  this  far  too  lightly,  Lucy/' answered  Miss 
Vere. 

''Not  a  bit,  my  dear  Isabella, ''  said  Lucy.  "Consider, 
your  father,  though  present  in  the  unhappy  affray,  is  never 
supposed  to  have  struck  the  fatal  blow;  besides,  informer 
times,  in  case  of  mutual  slaughter  between  clans,  subsequent 
alliances  were  so  far  from  being  excluded,  that  the  hand  of  a 
daughter  or  a  sister  was  the  most  frequent  gage  of  reconcilia- 
tion. You  laugh  at  my  skill  in  romance  ;  but,  I  assure  you, 
should  your  history  be  written,  like  that  of  many  a  less  dis- 
tressed and  less  deserving  heroine,  the  well-judging  reader 
will  set  you  down  for  the  lady  and  the  love  of  Earnscliff  from 
the  very  obstacle  which  you  suppose  so  insurmountable.^' 

"  But  these  are  not  the  days  of  romance  but  of  sad  reality, 
for  there  stands  the  castle  of  Ellieslaw.'' 

"And  there  stands  Sir  Frederick  Langley  at  the  gate, 
waiting  to  assist  the  ladies  from  their  palfreys.  I  would  as 
lief  touch  a  toad ;  I  will  disappoint  him  and  take  old  Horsing- 
ton  the  groom  for  my  master  of  the  horse.'' 

So  saying,  the  lively  young  lady  switched  her  palfrey  for- 
ward, and,  passing  Sir  Frederick  with  a  familiar  nod  as  he 
stood  ready  to  take  her  horse's  rein,  she  cantered  on  and 
lumped  into  the  arms  of  the  old  groom.  Fain  would  Isabella 
have  done  the  same  had  she  dared  ;  but  her  father  stood  near, 
displeasure  already  darkening  on  a  countenance  peculiarly 
qualified  to  express  the  harsher  passions,  and  she  was  com- 
pelled to  receive  the  unwelcome  assiduities  of  her  detested 
snitor. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Let  not  us  that  are  squires  of  the  night's  body  be  called  thieves  oi 
the  day's  booty  ;  let  us  be  Diana's  foresters,  gentlemen  of  the 
shade,  minions  of  the  moon. 

Henry  IV.,  Fart  1, 

The  Solitary  had  consumed  the  remainder  of  that  day  in 
which  he  had  the  interview  with  the  young  ladies  within  the 
precincts  of  his  garden.  Evening  again  found  him  seated  on 
his  favorite  stone.  The  sun  setting  red,  and  among  seas  of 
rolling  clouds,  threw  a  gloomy  lustre  over  the  moor,  and  gave 
a  deeper  purple  to  the  broad  outline  of  heathy  mountains 
which  surrounded  this  desolate  spot.  The  dwarf  sat  watching 
the  clouds  as  they  lowered  above  each  other  in  masses  of  con- 
glomerated vapors,  and,  as  a  strong  lurid  beam  of  the  sinking 
luminary  darted  full  on  his  solitary  and  uncouth  figure,  he 
might  well  have  seemed  the  demon  of  the  storm  which  was 
gathering,  or  some  gnome  summoned  forth  from  the  recesses 
of  the  earth  by  the  subterranean  signals  of  its  approach.  As 
he  sat  thus,  with  his  dark  eye  turned  towards  the  scowling  and 
blackening  heaven,  a  horseman  rode  rapidly  up  to  him,  and 
stopping,  as  if  to  let  his  horse  breathe  for  an  instant,  made  a 
sort  of  obeisance  to  the  anchoret,  with  an  air  betwixt  effron- 
tery and  embarrassment. 

The  figure  of  the  rider  was  thin,  tall,  and  slender,  but  re- 
markably athletic,  bony,  and  sinewy  ;  like  one  who  had  all 
his  life  followed  those  violent  exercises  which  prevent  the 
human  form  from  increasing  in  bulk,  while  they  harden  and 
confirm  by  habit  its  muscular  powers.  His  face,  sharp-fea- 
tured, sunburnt,  and  freckled,  had  a  sinister  expression  of  vio- 
lence, impudence,  and  cunning,  each  of  which  seemed  alter- 
nately to  predominate  over  the  others.  Sandy-colored  hair 
and  reddish  eyebrows,  from  under  which  looked  forth  his 
sharp  gray  eyes,  completed  the  inauspicious  outline  of  the 
horseman's  physiognomy.  He  had  pistols  in  his  holsters, 
and  another  pair  peeped  from  his  belt,  though  he  had  taken 
some  pains  to  conceal  them  by  buttoning  his  doublet.  He 
wore  a  rusted  steel  head-piece,  a  buff  jacket  of  rather  an  an- 
tique cast,  gloves,  of  which  that  for  the  right  hand  was  cov' 


88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ered  with  small  scales  of  iron,  like  an  ancient  gauntlet ;  and 
a  long  broadsword  completed  his  equipage. 

"  So/'  said  the  Dwarf,  "rapine  and  murder  once  more  on 
horseback." 

"On  horseback?"  said  the  bandit;  "ay,  ay,  Elshie, 
your  leech-craft  has  set  me  on  the  bonny  bay  again." 

"And  all  those  promises  of  amendment  which  you  made 
during  your  illness  forgotten  ?  "  continued  Elshender. 

"  All  passed  clear  away,  with  the  water-saps  and  panada," 
returned  the  unabashed  convalescent.  "  Ye  ken,  Elshie,  for 
they  say  ye  are  weel  acquent  wi'  the  gentleman, 

**  •  When  the  devil  was  sick,  the  devil  a  monk  would  be, 
When  the  devil  was  well,  the  devil  a  monk  was  he.' " 

"Thou  say'st  true,"  said  the  Solitary ;  "  as  well  divide  a 
wolf  from  his  appetite  for  carnage,  or  a  raven  from  her  scent 
of  slaughter,  as  thee  from  thy  accursed  propensities." 

"Why,  what  would  you  have  me  to  do  ?"  answered  the 
rider.  "It's  born  with  me,  lies  in  my  very  bluid  and  bane. 
Why,  man,  the  lads  of  Westburnflat  for  ten  lang  descents  have 
been  reivers  and  lifters.  They  have  all  drunk  hard,  lived 
high,  taking  deep  revenge  for  light  offence,  and  never  wanted 
gear  for  the  winning." 

"Right;  and  thou  art  as  thoroughbred  a  wolf,"  said  the 
Dwarf,  "as  ever  leaped  a  lamb-fold  at  night.  On  what  helFs 
errand  art  thou  bound  now  ?  " 

"  Can  your  skill  not  guess  ?" 

"  Thus  far  I  know,"  said  the  Dwarf,  "  that  thy  purpose  is 
bad,  thy  deed  will  be  worse,  and  the  issue  worst  of  all." 

"  And  you  like  me  the  better  for  it.  Father  Elshie,  eh  ?" 
said  Westburnflat;  "you  always  said  you  did." 

"I  have  cause  to  like  all,"  answered  the  Solitary,  "that 
are  scourges  to  their  fellow-creatures,  and  thou  art  a  bloody 
one." 

"  No,  I  say  not  guilty  to  that ;  never  bluidy  unless  there's 
resistance,  and  that  sets  a  man's  bristles  up,  ye  ken.  And  this 
is  nae  great  matter,  after  a' ;  just  to  cut  the  comb  of  a  young 
cock  that  has  been  crawing  a  little  ower  crousely." 

"Not  young  EarnscliS?"  said  the  Solitary,  with  some 
emotion. 

"  No ;  not  yonng  Earn scl iff — not  young  Earnscliff  yet ; 
but  his  time  may  come,  if  he  will  not  take  warning  and  get 
him  back  to  the  burrow- town  that  he's  fit  for,  and  no  keep 
skelping  about  here,  destroying  the  few  deer  that  are  left  in 
the  country,   and  pretending  to  act  as  a  magistrate^  and 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  8ft 

writing  letters  to  the  great  folk  at  Auld  Eeekie  about 
the  disturbed  state  of  the  land.  Let  him  take  care  o*  him- 
sell/' 

"  Then  it  must  be  Hobbie  of  the  Heughfoot/'  said  Elshie. 
'^  What  harm  has  the  lad  done  you  ?" 

''  Harm  !  nae  great  harm  ;  but  I  hear  he  says  I  stayed 
away  from  the  ba'spiel  on  Fastern^s  E'en  for  fear  of  him ; 
and  it  was  only  for  fear  of  the  country  keeper,  for  there  was 
a  warrant  against  me.  Ill  stand  Hobble's  feud  and  a'  his 
clan's.  But  it's  not  so  much  for  that  as  to  gie  him  a  lesson 
not  to  let  his  tongue  gallop  ower  freely  about  his  betters.  I 
trow  he  will  hae  lost  the  best  pen-feather  o'  his  wing  before 
to-morrow  morning.  Farewell,  Elshie  ;  there's  some  canny 
boys  waiting  for  me  down  amang  the  shaws  owerby ;  I  will 
see  you  as  I  come  back,  and  bring  ye  a  blithe  tale  in  return 
for  your  leechcraft.'^ 

Ere  the  Dwarf  could  collect  himself  to  reply,  the  Reiver 
of  Westburnflat  *  set  spurs  to  his  horse.  The  animal,  start- 
ing at  one  of  the  stones  which  lay  scattered  about,  flew  from 
the  path.  The  rider  exercised  his  spurs  without  moderation 
or  mercy.  The  horse  became  furious,  reared,  kicked,  plunged, 
and  bolted  like  a  deer,  with  all  his  four  feet  off  the  ground  at 
once.  It  was  in  vain  ;  the  unrelenting  rider  sat  as  if  he  had 
been  a  part  of  the  horse  which  he  bestrode  ;  and,  after  a  short 
but  furious  contest,  compelled  the  subdued  animal  to  proceed 
upon  the  path  at  a  rate  which  soon  carried  him  out  of  sight 
of  the  Solitary. 

*^  That  villain,"  exclaimed  the  Dwarf  —  "that  cool- 
blooded,  hardened,  unrelenting  ruffian — that  wretch,  whose 
every  thought  is  infected  with  crimes — has  thewes  and  sinews, 
limbs,  strength,  and  activity  enough,  to  compel  a  nobler  ani- 
mal than  himself  to  carry  him  to  the  place  where  he  is  to 
perpetrate  his  wickedness  ;  while  I,  had  I  the  weakness  to 
wish  to  put  his  wretched  victim  on  his  guard,  and  to  save  the 
helpless  family,  would  see  my  good  intentions  frustrated  by 
the  decrepitude  which  chains  me  to  the  spot.  Why  should 
I  wish  it  were  otherwise  ?  What  have  my  screech-owl  voice, 
my  hideous  form,  and  my  misshapen  features  to  do  with  the 
fairer  workmanship  of  nature  ?  Do  not  men  receive  even  my 
benefits  with  shrinking  horror  and  ill-suppressed  disgust  ? 
And  why  should  I  interest  myself  in  a  race  which  accounts 
me  a  prodigy  and  an  outcast,  and  which  has  treated  me  as 
such  r  No  ;  by  all  the  ingratitude  which  I  have  reaped,  by 
all  the  wrongs  w^hich  I  have  sustained,  by  my  imprisonment, 

*  See  Note  3. 


40  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

my  stripes,  my  chains,  I  will  wrestle  down  my  feelings  of  re- 
bellious humanity  !  I  will  not  be  the  fool  I  have  been,  to 
swerve  from  my  principles  whenever  there  was  an  appeal, 
forsooth,  to  my  feelings ;  as  if  I,  towards  whom  none  show 
sympathy,  ought  to  have  sympathy  with  any  one.  Let  Des- 
tiny drive  forth  her  scythed  car  through  the  overwhelmed 
and  trembling  mass  of  humanity  !  Shall  I  be  the  idiot  to 
throw  this  decrepit  form,  this  misshapen  lump  of  mortality, 
under  her  wheels,  that  the  Dwarf,  the  Wizard,  the  Hunch- 
back may  save  from  destruction  some  fair  form  or  some  active 
frame,  and  all  the  world  clap  their  hands  at  the  exchange  ? 
No,  never  !  And  yet  this  Elliot — this  Hobbie,  so  young  and 
gallant,  so  frank,  so — I  will  think  of  it  no  longer.  I  cannot 
aid  him  if  I  would,  and  I  am  resolved — firmly  resolved — that 
I  would  not  aid  him  if  a  wish  were  the  pledge  of  his  safety  ! " 
Having  thus  ended  his  soliloquy,  he  retreated  into  his  hut 
for  shelter  from  the  storm  which  was  fast  approaching,  and 
now  began  to  burst  in  large  and  heavy  drops  of  rain.  The 
iast  rays  of  the  sun  now  disappeared  entirely,  and  two  or 
three  claps  of  distant  thunder  followed  each  other  at  brief 
intervals,  echoing  and  re-echoing  among  the  range  of  heathy 
fells  like  the  sound  of  a  distant  engagement. 


CHAPTER  YII 

Proud  bird  of  the  mountain,  thy  plume  shall  be  torn  1 

Return  to  thy  dwelling,  all  lonely,  return  ; 

For  the  blackness  of  ashes  shall  mark  where  it  stood, 

And  a  wild  mother  scream  o'er  her  famishing  brood. 

Campbell. 

The  night  continued  sullen  and  stormy  ;  but  morning  rose 
as  if  refreshed  by  the  rains.  Even  the  Mucklestane  Moor, 
with  its  broad  bleak  swells  of  barren  grounds,  interspersed 
with  marshy  pools  of  water,  seemed  to  smile  under  the  serene 
influence  of  the  sky.  Just  as  good -humor  can  spread  a  certain 
inexpressible  charm  over  the  plainest  human  countenance. 
The  heath  was  in  its  thickest  and  deepest  bloom.  The  bees, 
which  the  Solitary  had  added  to  his  rural  establishment, 
were  abroad  and  on  the  wing,  and  filled  the  air  with  the 
murmurs  of  their  industry.  As  the  old  man  crept  out  of  his 
little  hut,  his  two  she-goats  came  to  meet  him,  and  licked  his 
hands  in  gratitude  for  the  vegetables  with  which  he  supplied 
them  from  his  garden.  "  You,  at  least,"  he  said — ^'  you,  at 
least,  see  no  differences  in  form  which  can  alter  your  feelings 
to  a  benefactor ;  to  you  the  finest  shape  that  ever  statuary 
moulded  would  be  an  object  of  indifference  or  of  alarm, 
should  it  present  itself  instead  of  the  misshapen  trunk  to 
whose  services  you  are  accustomed.  While  I  was  in  the 
world,  did  I  ever  meet  with  such  a  return  of  gratitude  ?  No  ; 
the  domestic  whom  I  had  bred  from  infancy  made  mouths  at 
me  as  he  stood  behind  my  chair;  the  friend  whom  I  had 
supported  with  my  fortune,  and  for  whose  sake  I  had  even 

stained [he  stopped  with   a  strong  convulsive   shudder]. 

Even  he  thought  me  more  fit  for  the  society  of  lunatics,  for 
their  disgraceful  restraints,  for  their  cruel  privations,  than 
for  communication  with  the  rest  at  humanity.  Hubert 
alone — and  Hubert  too  will  one  day  abandon  me.  All 
are  of  a  piece — one  mass  of  wickedness,  selfishness,  and  in- 
gratitude— wretches  who  sin  even  in  their  devotions,  and  of 
such  hardness  of  heart  that  they  do  not,  without  hypocrisy, 
even  thank  the  Deity  Himself  for  His  warm  sun  and  pure  air/' 


43  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

As  he  was  plunged  in  these  gloomy  soliloquies,  he  heard 
the  tramp  of  a  horse  on  the  other  side  of  his  inclosure,  and  a 
strong  clear  bass  voice  singing  with  the  liveliness  inspired 
by  a  light  heart — 

Canny  Hobbie  Elliot,  canny  Hobble  now, 
Canny  Hobbie  Elliot,  I'se  gang  alang  wi'  you. 

At  the  same  moment  a  large  deer  greyhound  sprang  over 
the  hermit^s  fence.  It  is  well  known  to  the  sportsmen  in 
these  wilds  that  the  appearance  and  scent  of  the  goat  so  much 
resemble  those  of  their  usual  objects  of  chase  that  the  best- 
broke  greyhounds  will  sometimes  fly  upon  them.  The  dog 
in  question  instantly  pulled  down  and  throttled  one  of  the 
hermit^s  she-goats,  while  Hobbie  Elliot,  who  came  up  and 
jumped  from  his  horse  for  the  pm'pose,  was  unable  to  ex- 
tricate the  harmless  animal  from  the  fangs  of  his  attendant 
until  it  was  expiring.  The  Dwarf  eyed,  for  a  few  moments, 
the  convulsive  starts  of  his  dying  favorite,  until  the  poor 
goat  stretched  out  her  limbs  with  the  twitches  and  shivering 
fit  of  the  last  agony.  He  then  started  into  an  access  of 
frenzy,  and,  unsheathing  a  long,  sharp  knife  or  dagger 
which  he  wore  under  his  coat,  he  was  about  to  launch  it  at 
the  dog,  when  Hobbie,  jDcrceiving  his  purpose,  interposed,  and 
caught  hold  of  his  hand,  exclaiming,  "  Let  a  be  the  hound, 
man — let  a  be  the  hound  !  Na,  na,  Killbuck  maunna  be 
guided  that  gate,  neither." 

The  Dwarf  turned  his  rage  on  the  young  farmer  ;  and  by 
a  sudden  effort,  far  more  powerful  than  Hobbie  expected  from 
such  a  person,  freed  his  wrist  from  his  grasp  and  offered  the 
dagger  at  his  heart.  All  this  Avas  done  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye,  and  the  incensed  Kecluse  might  have  completed  his 
vengeance  by  plunging  the  weapon  in  Elliot's  bosom,  had  he 
not  been  checked  by  an  internal  impulse  which  made  him 
hurl  the  knife  to  a  distance. 

''No,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  thus  voluntarily  deprived 
himself  of  the  means  of  gratifying  his  rage  ;  *'  not  again — 
not  again ! " 

Hobbie  retreated  a  step  or  two  in  great  surprise,  discom- 
posure, and  disdain  at  having  been  placed  in  such  danger  by 
an  object  apparently  so  contemptible. 

"  The  deiFs  in  the  body  for  strength  and  bitterness  ! " 
were  the  first  words  that  escaped  him,  which  he  followed  up 
with  an  apology  for  the  accident  that  had  given  rise  to  their 
disagreement.  "I  am  no  justifying  Killbuck  a'thegither 
neither,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  as  vexing  to  me  as  to  you,  Elshie, 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  43 

that  the  mischance  should  hae  happened  ;  but  111  send  yon 
twa  goats  and  twa  fat  gimmers,  man,  to  make  a^  straight 
again.  A  wise  man  like  you  shouldna  bear  malice  against  a 
poor  dumb  thing  ;  ye  see  that  a  goat^s  like  first-cousin  to  a 
deer,  sae  Killbuck  acted  but  according  to  his  nature  after  a\ 
Had  it  been  a  pet  lamb  there  wad  hae  been  mair  to  be  said. 
Ye  suld  keep  sheep,  Elshie,  and  no  goats,  where  there^s  sae 
mony  deer-hounds  about ;  but  I'll  send  ye  baith/' 

"  Wretch  \'*  said  the  Hermit,  *^your  cruelty  has  destroyed 
one  of  the  only  creatures  in  existence  that  would  look  on  me 
with  kindness  ! " 

*'  Dear  Elshie,'^  answered  Hobbie,  *'  I'm  wae  ye  suld  hae 
cause  to  say  sae  ;  I'm  sure  it  wasna  wi'  my  will.  And  yet,  it's 
true,  I  should  hae  minded  your  goats,  and  coupled  up  the 
dogs.  I'm  sure  I  would  rather  they  had  worried  the  primest 
wether  in  my  faulds.  Come,  man,  forget  and  forgie.  I'm 
e'en  as  vexed  as  ye  can  be.  But  I  am  a  bridegroom,  ye  see, 
and  that  puts  a'  things  out  o'  my  head,  I  think.  There's  the 
marriage-dinner,  or  gude  part  o't,  that  my  twa  brithers  are 
bringing  on  a  sled  round  by  the  Riders'  Slack — three  goodly 
bucks  as  ever  ran  on  Dallomlea,  as  the  sang  says  ;  they  couldna 
come  the  straight  road  for  the  saft  grund.  I  wad  send  ye  a 
bit  venison,  but  ye  wadna  take  it  weel  maybe,  for  Killbuck 
catch ed  it." 

During  this  long  speech,  in  which  the  good-natured 
Borderer  endeavored  to  propitiate  the  offended  Dwarf  by 
every  argument  he  could  think  of,  he  heard  him  with  his  eyes 
bent  on  the  ground,  as  if  in  the  deepest  meditation,  and  at 
length  broke  forth — ^^  Nature  !  Yes,  it  is  indeed  in  the  usual 
beaten  path  of  Nature.  The  strong  gripe  and  throttle  the 
weak  ;  the  rich  depress  and  despoil  the  needy  ;  the  happy — 
those  who  are  idiots  enough  to  think  themselves  happy — 
insult  the  misery  and  diminish  the  consolation  of  the  wretched. 
Go  hence,  thou  who  hast  contrived  to  give  an  additional  pang 
to  the  most  miserable  of  human  beings — thou  who  hast  de- 
prived me  of  what  I  half  considered  as  a  source  of  comfort. 
Go  hence,  and  enjoy  the  happiness  prepared  for  thee  at 
home ! " 

''^  Never  stir,"  said  Hobbie,  "  if  I  wadna  take  you  wi'  me, 
man,  if  ye  wad  but  say  it  wad  divert  ye  to  be  at  the  bridal  on 
Monday.  There  will  be  a  hundred  strapping  Elliots  to  ride 
the  bronze :  *  the  like's  no  been  seen  sin'  the  days  of  auld 
Martin  of  the  Preakin  Tower.  I  wad  send  the  sled  for  ye  wi' 
a  canny  powny." 

♦See  Note  4. 


44  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Is  it  to  me  you  propose  once  more  to  mix  in  the  society 
of  the  common  herd  P'  said  the  Recluse,  with  an  air  of  deep 
disgust. 

"  Commons  !  "  retorted  Hobbie,  '^  nae  siccan  commons 
neither  ;  the  Elliots  hae  been  lang  kend  a  gentle  race/' 

"  Hence  !  begone  !  "  reiterated  the  Dwarf  ;  '^  may  the 
same  evil  luck  attend  thee  that  thou  kast  left  behind  with  me  ! 
If  I  go  not  with  you  myself,  see  if  you  can  escape  what  my 
attendants,  Wrath  and  Misery,  have  brought  to  thy  threshold 
before  thee/' 

"  I  wish  ye  wadna  speak  that  gate,''  said  Hobbie.  *'  Ye  ken 
yoursell,  Elshie,  naebody  judges  you  to  be  ower  canny.  Now, 
I'll  tell  ye  jest  ae  word  for  a' :  ye  hae  spoken  as  muckle  as 
wussing  ill  to  me  and  mine  ;  now,  if  ony  mischance  happen 
to  Grace — which  God  forbid — or  to  mysell,  or  to  the  poor 
dumb  tyke,  or  if  I  be  skaithed  and  injured  in  body,  gudes,  or 
gear,  I'll  no  forget  wha  it  is  that  it's  owing  to." 

^^  Out,  hind!"  exclaimed  the  Dwarf;  ''home!  home  to 
your  dwelling,  and  think  on  me  when  you  find  what  has  he 
fallen  there."    ' 

"  Aweel,  aweel,"  said  Hobbie,  mounting  his  horse,  *'  it 
serves  naething  to  strive  wi'  cripples,  they  are  aye  cankered  ; 
but  I'll  just  tell  ye  ae  thing,  neighbor,  that  if  things  be  other- 
wise than  weel  wi'  Grace  Armstrong,  I'se  gie  you  a  scouther 
if  there  be  a  tar-barrel  in  the  five  parishes." 

So  saying,  he  rode  off  ;  and  Elshie,  after  looking  at  him 
with  a  scornful  and  indignant  laugh,  took  spade  and  mattock 
and  occupied  himself  in  digging  a  grave  for  his  deceased 
favorite. 

A  low  whistle,  and  the  words,  ''Hisht,  Elshie,  hisht !"  dis- 
turbed him  in  this  melancholy  occupation.  He  looked  up, 
and  the  Red  Reiver  of  Westburnflat  was  before  him.  Like 
Banquo's  murderer,  there  was  blood  on  his  face,  as  well  as 
upon  the  rowels  of  his  spurs  and  the  sides  of  his  over-ridden 
horse. 

'*  How  now,  ruffian  ?"  demanded  the  Dwarf,  "is  thy  job 
chared?" 

"  Ay,  ay,  doubt  not  that,  Elshie,"  answered  the  freebooter ; 
"  when  I  ride,  my  foes  may  moan.  They  have  had  mair  light 
than  comfort  at  the  Heughfoot  this  morning  :  there's  a  toom 
byre  and  a  wide,  and  a  wail  and  a  cry  for  the  bonny  bride." 

''The  bride?" 

"  Ay  ;  Charlie  Cheat-the-Woodie,  as  we  ca'  him — that's 
Charlie  Foster  of  Tinning  Beck,  has  promised  to  keep  her  in 
Cumberland  till  the  blast  blaw  by.     She  saw  me  and  kend  me 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  45 

in  the  splore,  for  the  mask  fell  frae  my  face  for  a  blink.  I 
am  thinking  it  wad  concern  my  safety  if  she  were  to  come 
back  here  ;  for  there^s  mony  o^  the  Elliots,  and  they  band 
weel  thegither  for  right  or  wrang.  Now,  what  I  chiefly  come 
to  ask  your  rede  in,  is  how  to  make  her  sure  ? " 

'' Wouldst  thou  murder  her,  then  V 

"  XJmph  !  no,  no ;  that  I  would  not  do,  if  I  could  help  it. 
But  they  say  they  can  whiles  get  folk  cannily  away  to  the 
plantations  from  some  of  the  out-ports,  and  something  to  boot 
for  them  that  brings  a  bonny  wench.  They^re  wanted  beyon 
seas  thae  female  cattle,  and  they^re  no  that  scarce  here.  Bu 
I  think  0*  doing  better  for  this  lassie.  There^s  a  leddy  that, 
unless  she  be  a'  the  better  bairn,  is  to  be  sent  to  foreign  parta 
whether  she  will  or  no  ;  now,  I  think  of  sending  Grace  to  Avait 
on  her  ;  she's  a  bonny  lassie.  Hobbie  will  hae  a  merry  morn- 
ing when  he  comes  hame  and  misses  baith  bride  and  gear.'' 

''Ay  ;  and  do  you  not  pity  him  ?"  said  the  Eecluse. 

"Wad  he  pity  me  were  I  gaeing  up  the  castle  hill  at 
Jeddart  ?  *  And  yet  I  rue  something  for  the  bit  lassie  ;  but 
he'll  get  a  new  bride,  and  little  skaith  dune.  Ane  is  as  gude 
as  anither.  And  now,  you  that  like  to  hear  o'  splores,  heard 
ye  ever  o'  a  better  ane  than  I  hae  had  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Air,  ocean,  and  fire,"  said  the  Dwarf,  speaking  to  him- 
self, "  the  earthquake,  the  tempest,  the  volcano,  are  all  mild 
and  moderate  compared  to  the  wrath  of  man.  And  what  is 
this  fellow  but  one  more  skilled  than  others  in  executing  the 
end  of  his  existence  ?  Hear  me,  felon,  go  again  where  I  before 
sent  thee.'' 

"To  the  steward  ?" 

"  Ay  ;  and  tell  him  Elshender  the  Recluse  commands  him 
to  give  thee  gold.  But,  hear  me,  let  the  maiden  be  discharged 
free  and  uninjured ;  return  her  to  her  friends,  and  let  her 
swear  not  to  discover  thy  villany." 

"Swear! "said  Westburnflat;  "but  what  it  she  break 
her  aith  ?  Women  are  not  famous  for  keeping  their  plight. 
A  wise  man  like  you  should  ken  that.  And  uninjured  ! 
Wha  kens  what  may  happen  were  she  to  be  left  lang  at  Tin- 
ning Beck  ?  Charlie  Cheat-the-Woodie  is  a  rough  customer. 
But,  if  the  gold  could  be  made  up  to  twenty  pieces,  I  think 
I  could  insure  her  being  wi'  her  friends  within  the  twenty- 
four  hours." 

The  Dwarf  took  his  tablets  from  his  pocket,  marked  a  line 
on   them,  and   tore  out   the  leaf.     "  There,"  he   said,   giv- 

*  The  place  of  execution  at  that  ancient  burgh,  where  many  of  WefistburHflat's 
profession  have  made  their  final  exit  after  their  trial,  and,  if  fame  speaks  true, 
of  them  before  it. 


46  /  WAVERLEY  NOVELS' 

ing  the  robber  the  leaf.  *'  But,  mark  me — thou  knowest  I 
am  not  to  be  fooled  by  thy  treachery — if  thou  darest  to  dis- 
obey my  directions,  thy  wretched  life,  be  sure,  shall  answer 

''  I  know,^^  said  the  fellow,  looking  down,  '^  that  you 
have  power  on  earth,  however  you  came  by  it :  you  can  do 
what  nae  other  man  can  do,  baith  by  physic  and  foresight ; 
and  the  gold  is  shelled  down, when  ye  command,  as  fast  as 
I  have  seen  the  ash-keys  fall  in  a  frosty  morning  in  October. 
I  will  not  disobey  you.'' 

'*  Begone,  then,  and  relieve  me  of  thy  hateful  presence/' 

The  robber  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  off  without 
reply. 

Hobbie  Elliot  had,  in  the  mean  while,  pursued  his  journey 
rapidly,  harassed  by  those  oppressive  and  indistinct  fears  that 
all  was  not  right  which  men  usually  term  a  presentiment  of 
misfortune.  Ere  he  reached  the  top  of  the  bank  from  which 
he  could  look  down  on  his  own  habitation,  he  was  met  by  his 
nurse,  a  person  then  of  great  consequence  in  all  families  in 
Scotland,  whether  of  the  higher  or  middling  classes.  The 
connection  between  them  and  their  foster-children  was  con- 
sidered a  tie  far  too  dearly  intimate  to  be  broken ;  and  it 
usually  happened,  in  the  course  of  years,  that  the  nurse  be- 
came a  resident  in  the  family  of  her  foster-son,  assisting  in 
the  domestic  duties,  and  receiving  all  marks  of  attention  and 
regard  from  the  heads  of  the  family.  So  soon  as  Hobbie  rec- 
ognized the  figure  of  Annaple,  in  her  red  cloak  and  black 
hood,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming  to  himself,  **  What  ill- 
luck  can  hae  brought  the  auld  nurse  sae  far  frae  hame,  her 
that  never  stirs  a  gun-shot  frae  the  door-stane  for  ordinar  ? 
Hout,  it  will  just  be  to  get  crane-berries  or  whortle-berries, 
or  some  such  stuff,  out  of  the  moss,  to  make  the  pies  and 
tarts  for  the  feast  on  Monday.  I  cannot  get  the  words  of 
that  cankered  auld  cripple  deiFs-buckie  out  o'  my  head  :  the 
least  thing  makes  me  dread  some  ill  news.  0,  Killbuck, 
man  !  were  there  nae  deer  and  goats  in  the  country  besides, 
but  ye  behoved  to  gang  and  worry  his  creature  by  a'  other 
folks'?" 

By  this  time  Annaple,  with  a  brow  like  a  tragic  volume, 
had  hobbled  towards  him  and  caught  his  horse  by  the  bridle. 
The  despair  in  her  look  was  so  evident  as  to  deprive  even  him 
of  the  power  of  asking  the  cause.  "  0  my  bairn  !  "  she  cried, 
"  gang  na  forward — gang  na  forward  ;  it's  a  sight  to  kill  ony- 
body,  let  alane  thee.' 

**In  God's  name*  what's  the  matter  ?"  said  the  astonished 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  41 

horseman,  endeavoring  to  extricate  his  bridle  from  the  grasp 
of  the  old  woman  ;  "for  Heaven's  sake,  let  me  go  and  see 
what's  the  matter/' 

"Ohon  !  that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  the  day  !  The 
steading's  a'  in  a  low,  and  the  bonny  stackyard  lying  in  the 
red  ashes,  and  the  gear  a'  driven  away.  But  gang  na  for- 
ward ;  it  wad  break  your  young  heart,  hinny,  to  see  what  my 
auld  een  hae  seen  this  morning." 

"  And  who  has  dared  to  do  this  ?  Let  go  my  bridle,  An- 
naple.  Where  is  my  grandmother,  my  sisters  ?  Where  is 
Grace  Armstrong  ?  God  !  the  words  of  the  warlock  are 
knelling  in  my  ears  ! " 

He  sprang  from  his  horse  to  rid  himself  of  Annaple's 
interruption,  and,  ascending  the  hill  with  great  speed,  soon 
came  in  view  of  the  spectacle  with  which  she  had  threatened 
him.  It  was  indeed  a  heart-breaking  sight.  The  habitation 
which  he  had  left  in  its  seclusion,  beside  the  mountain-stream, 
surrounded  with  every  evidence  of  rustic  plenty,  was  now  a 
wasted  and  blackened  ruin.  From  among  the  shattered  and 
rfaoie  walls  the  smoke  continued  to  rise.  The  turf-stack,  the 
barn-yard,  the  offices  stocked  with  cattle,  all  the  wealth  of  an 
upland  cultivator  of  the  period,  of  which  poor  Elliot  possessed 
no  common  share,  had  been  laid  waste  or  carried  off  in  a 
single  night.  He  stood  a  moment  motionless,  and  then  ex- 
claimed, "I  am  ruined — ruined  to  the  ground  !  B.it  curse 
on  the  warld's  gear — had  it  not  been  the  week  before  the 
bridal !  But  I  am  nae  babe,  to  sit  down  and  greet  about  it. 
If  I  can  but  find  Grace  and  my  grandmother  and  my  sisters 
weel,  I  can  go  to  the  wars  in  Flanders,  as  my  gude-sire  did, 
under  the  Bellenden  banner,  wi'  auld  Buccleuch  and  his  black 
banders.*  At  ony  rate,  I  will  keep  up  a  heart,  or  they  will 
lose  theirs  a'thegither." 

Manfully  strode  Hobbie  down  the  hill,  resolved  to  sup- 
press his  own  despair  and  administer  consolation  which  he  did 
not  feel.  The  neighboring  inhabitants  of  the  dell,  particularly 
those  of  his  own  name,  had  already  assembled.  The  younger 
part  were  in  arms  and  clamorous  for  revenge,  although  they 
knew  not  upon  whom  ;  the  elder  were  taking  measures  for  the 
relief  of  the  distressed  family.  Annaple's  cottage,  which  was 
situated  down  the  brook,  at  some  distance  from  the  scene  of 
mischief,  had  been  hastily  adapted  for  the  temporary  accommo- 
dation of  the  old  lady  and  her  daughters,  with  such  articles  as 
had  been  contributed  by  the  neighbors,  for  very  little  was 
saved  from  the  wreck. 

*  See  Borderers  in  Flanders.    Note  5. 


4S  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''  Are  we  to  stand  here  a'  day,  sirs/*  exclaimed  one  tall 
yonng  man,  "  and  look  at  the  burned  wa's  of  our  kinsman's 
house  ?  Every  wreath  of  the  reek  is  a  blast  of  shame  upon 
us  !  Let  us  to  horse  and  take  the  chase.  Who  has  the  near- 
est bloodhound  ?  " 

*'  It's  young  Earnscliff,''  answered  another  ;  '^  and  he's 
been  on  and  away  wi'  six  horse  lang  syne,  to  see  if  he  can  track 
them." 

''Let  us  follow  him  then,"  said  the  tall  youth,  ''and  raise 
the  country,  and  mak  mair  help  as  we  ride,  and  then  have  at 
the  Cumberland  reivers !  Take,  burn,  and  slay ;  they  that 
lie  nearest  us  shall  smart  first." 

"  Whisht !  hand  your  tongues,  daft  callants,"  said  an  old 
man,  "  ye  dinna  ken  what  ye  speak  about.  What !  wad  ye 
raise  war  atween  twa  paci floated  countries  ?  " 

"  And  what  signifies  deaving  us  wi'  tales  about  our  fathers," 
retorted  the  young  man,  "  if  we're  to  sit  and  see  our  friends' 
houses  burned  ower  their  heads,  and  no  put  out  hand  to  revenge 
them  ?     Our  fathers  did  not  do  that,  I  trow  ?  " 

"I  am  no  saying  ony thing  against  revenging  Hobble's 
wrang,  puir  chield  ;  but  we  maun  take  the  law  wi'  us  in  thae 
days,  Simon,"  answered  the  more  prudent  elder. 

" And  besides,"  said  another  old  man,  "I  dinna  believe 
there's  ane  now  living  that  kens  the  lawful  mode  of  following 
a  fray  across  the  Border.  Tam  o'  Whittram  kend  a'  about  it ; 
but  he  died  in  the  hard  winter." 

"  Ay,"  said  a  third,  "  he  was  at  the  great  gathering,  when 
they  chased  as  far  as  Thirl  wall  ;  it  was  the  year  after  the  fight 
of  Philiphaugh." 

"  Hout,"  exclaimed  another  of  these  discording  counsellors, 
"  there's  nae  great  skill  needed  ;  just  put  a  lighted  peat  on 
the  end  of  a  spear  or  hay-fork,  or  sic-like,  and  blaw  a  horn,  and 
cry  the  gathering- word,  and  then  if  s  lawful  to  follow  gear 
into  England,  and  recover  it  by  the  strong  hand,  or  to  take 
gear  frae  some  other  Englishman,  providing  ye  lift  nae  mair 
than's  been  lifted  frae  you.  That's  the  auld  Border  law, 
made  at  Dundrennan,  in  the  days  of  the  Black  Douglas. 
Deil  ane  need  doubt  it.     It's  as  clear  as  the  sun." 

"Come  away,  then,  lads,"  cried  Simon,  "get  to  your 
geldings,  and  well  take  auld  Cuddie  the  muckle  tasker  wi* 
us  ;  he  kens  the  value  o'  the  stock  and  plenishing  that's  been 
lost.  Hobble's  stalls  and  stakes  shall  be  fou  again  or  night ; 
and  if  we  canna  big  up  the  auld  house  sae  soon,  we'se  lay  an 
"English  ane  as  low  as  Heughfoot  is ;  and  that's  fair  play,  »' 
^e  warld  ower." 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  4» 

This  animating  proposal  was  received  with  great  applause 
by  the  younger  part  of  the  assemblage,  when  a  whisper  ran 
among  them,  *'There^s  Hobbie  himsell,  puir  fallow  !  we'll  be 
guided  by  him/' 

The  principal  sufferer,  having  now  reached  the  bottom  of 
the  hill,  pushed  on  through  the  crowd,  unable,  from  the 
tumultuous  state  of  his  feelings,  to  do  more  than  receive  and 
return  the  grasps  of  the  friendly  hands  by  which  his  neigh- 
bors and  kinsmen  mutely  expressed  their  sympathy  in  his 
misfortune.  While  he  pressed  Simon  of  Hackburn's  hand, 
his  anxiety  at  length  found  words.  ^^  Thank  ye,  Simon — 
thank  ye,  neighbors  ;  I  ken  what  ye  wad  a'  say.     But  where 

are  they  ?    Where  are "     He  stopped,  as  if  afraid  even  to 

name  the  objects  of  his  inquiry  ;  and  with  a  similar  feeling  his 
kinsmen,  without  reply,  pointed  to  the  hut,  into  which  Hob- 
ble precipitated  himself  with  the  desperate  air  of  one  who  is 
resolved  to  know  the  worst  at  once.  A  general  and  powerful 
expression  of  sympathy  accompanied  him.  "  Ah,  puir  fal- 
low, puir  Hobbie  ! " 

"  He'll  learn  the  warst  o't  now! ''said  Simon  of  Hack- 
burn. 

"  But  I  trust  Earnscliff  will  get  some  speerings  o'  the  puir 
lassie." 

Such  were  the  exclamations  of  the  group,  who,  having  no 
acknowledged  leader  to  direct  their  motions,  passively 
awaited  the  return  of  the  sufferer,  and  determined  to  be 
guided  by  his  directions. 

The  meeting  between  Hobbie  and  his  family  was  in  the 
highest  degree  affecting.  His  sisters  threw  themselves  upon 
him  and  almost  stifled  him  with  their  caresses,  as  if  to  pre- 
vent his  looking  round  to  distinguish  the  absence  of  one  yet 
more  beloved. 

"  God  help  thee,  my  son  !  He  can  help  when  worldly 
trust  is  a  broken  reed."  Such  was  the  welcome  of  the  matron 
to  her  unfortunate  grandson.  He  looked  eagerly  round,  hold- 
ing two  of  his  sisters  by  the  hand,  while  the  third  hung  about 
his  neck — ''  I  see  you,  I  count  you — my  grandmother,  Lilias, 

Jean,  and  Annot ;  but  where  is "  he  hesitated,  and  then 

continued,  as  if  with  an  effort — '^  where  is  Grace  ?  Surely 
this  is  not  a  time  to  hide  hersell  f rae  me  ;  there's  nae  time  for 
daffing  now." 

^'  0,  brother  ! "  and  '^  Our  poor  Grace  !  "  was  the  only  an- 
swer his  questions  could  procure,  till  his  grandmother  rose  up 
and  gently  disengaged  him  from  the  weeping  girls,  led  him 
to  a  seat,  and  with  the  affecting  serenity  which  sincere  piety, 


50  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

like  oil  sprinkled  on  the  waves,  can  throw  over  the  most  acute 
feelings,  she  said,  "My  bairn,  when  thy  grandfather  was 
killed  in  the  wars,  and  left  me  with  six  orphans  around  me, 
with  scarce  bread  to  eat  or  a  roof  to  cover  us,  I  had  strength 
— not  of  mine  own — but  I  had  strength  given  me  to  say,  '  The 
Lord's  will  be  done  ! '  My  son,  our  peaceful  house  was  last 
night  broken  into  by  moss-troopers,  armed  and  masked  ;  they 
have  taken  and  destroyed  all,  and  carried  off  our  dear  Grace. 
Pray  for  strength  to  say,  '  His  will  be  done  V" 

"  Mother  !  mother  !  urge  me  not,  I  cannot — not  now  ;  I 
am  a  sinful  man,  and  of  a  hardened  race.  Masked — armed — 
Grace  carried  off  !  Gie  me  my  sword  and  my  father's  knaps- 
cap  ;  I  will  have  vengeance,  if  I  should  go  to  the  pit  of  dark- 
ness to  seek  it ! '' 

"  0  my  bairn,  my  bairn  !  be  patient  under  the  rod.  Who 
knows  when  He  may  lift  His  hand  off  from  us  ?  Young 
Earnscliff,  Heaven  bless  him  !  has  taen  the  chase,  with  Davie 
of  Stenhouse  and  the  first  comers.  I  cried  to  let  house  and 
plenishing  burn,  and  follow  the  reivers  to  recover  Grace,  and 
Earnscliff  and  his  men  were  ower  the  Fell  within  three  hours 
after  the  deed.  God  bless  him  !  he's  a  real  Earnscliff  ;  he's 
his  father's  true  son,  a  leal  friend. '^ 

''  A  true  friend  indeed,  God  bless  him  ! "  exclaimed  Hob- 
bie  ;  "let's  on  and  away,  and  take  the  chase  after  him." 

"  0,  my  child,  before  you  run  on  danger,  let  me  hear  you 
but  say,  '  His  will  be  done  ! ' " 

"  Urge  me  not,  mother — not  now."  He  was  rushing  out, 
when,  looking  back,  he  observed  his  grandmother  make  a  mute 
attitude  of  affliction.  He  returned  hastily,  threw  himself  in- 
to her  arms,  and  said,  "  Yes,  mother,  I  can  say,  '  His  will  be 
done,'  since  it  will  comfort  you." 

"  May  He  go  forth — may  He  go  forth  with  you,  my  dear 
bairn  ;  and  0,  may  He  give  you  cause  to  say  on  your  return, 
*  His  name  be  praised  ! '" 

"  Farewell,  mother  !  farewell,  my  dear  sisters ! "  exclaimed 
Elliot,  and  rushed  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  Vm 

Now  horse  and  hattock,  cried  the  Laird- 
No  w  horse  and  hattock,  speedilie  ; 

They  that  winna  ride  for  Telfer's  kye, 
Let  them  never  look  in  the  face  o'  me. 

Border  BaUad. 

*'  Horse  !  horse  !  and  spear  ! "  exclaimed  Hobble  to  his  kins- 
men. Many  a  ready  foot  was  in  the  stirrup ;  and,  while 
Elliot  hastily  collected  arms  and  accoutrements,  no  easy  mat- 
ter in  such  a  confusion,  the  glen  resounded  with  the  appro- 
bation of  his  younger  friends. 

*^Ay,  ay !"  exclaimed  Simon  of  Hackburn,  ''that's  the 
gate  to  take  it,  Hobbie.  Let  women  sit  and  greet  at  hame, 
men  must  do  as  they  have  been  done  by  ;  it's  the  Scripture 
says't.'' 

''  Haud  your  tongue,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  seniors,  sternly ; 
''dinna  abuse  the  Word  that  gate,  ye  dinna  ken  what  ye 
speak  about.'' 

''  Hae  ye  ony  tidings  ?  Hae  ye  ony  speerings,  Hobbie  ? 
0,  callants,  dinna  beower-hasty,"  said  old  Dick  of  the  Dingle. 

"  What  signifies  preaching  to  us  e'enow  ?  "  said  Simon  ; 
*'  if  ye  canna  make  help  yoursell,  dinna  keep  back  them  that 
can." 

''Whisht,  sir  ;  wad  ye  take  vengeance  or  ye  ken  wha  has 
wranged  ye  ?  " 

"  D'ye  think  we  dinna  ken  the  road  to  England  as  weel  as 
our  fathers  before  us  ?  All  evil  comes  out  o'  thereaway — it's 
an  auld  saying  and  a  true  ;  and  Ave'll  e'en  away  there,  as  if 
the  devil  was  blawing  us  south." 

"We'll  follow  the  track  o'  Earnscliff's  horses  ower  the 
waste,"  cried  one  Elliot. 

"  111  prick  them  out  through  the  blindest  moor  in  the 
Border,  an  there  had  been  a  fair  held  there  the  day  before," 
said  Hugh,  the  blacksmith  of  Ringleburn,  "  for  I  aye  shoe 
his  horse  wi'  my  ain  hand." 

"Lay  on  the  deer-hounds,"  cried  another:  "where  are 
they  V 


52  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  Hout,  man,  the  sun's  been  lang  up,  and  the  dew  is  aff 
the  grund  ;  the  scent  will  never  lie/' 

Hobbie  instantly  whistled  on  his  hounds,  which  were  roy- 
ing  about  the  ruins  of  their  old  habitation  and  filling  the  air 
with  their  doleful  howls. 

"  Now,  Killbuck,"  said  Hobbie,  ''try  thy  skill  this  day/' 
And  then,  as  if  a  light  had  suddenly  broke  on  him — '*'  That 
ill-faured  goblin  spak  something  o'  this  !  He  may  ken  mair 
o't,  either  by  villains  on  earth  or  devils  below  ;  Fll  hae  it 
frae  him,  if  I  should  cut  it  out  o'  his  misshapen  bouk  wi'  my 
whinger."  He  then  hastily  gave  directions  to  his  comrades  . 
"Four  o'  ye,  wi'  Simon,  baud  right  forward  to  Graeme's 
Gap.  If  they're  English,  they'll  be  for  being  back 
that  way.  The  rest  disperse  by  twasome  and  threesome 
through  the  waste,  and  meet  me  at  the  Trysting  Pool.  Tell 
my  brothers,  when  they  come  up,  to  follow  and  meet  us 
there.  Poor  lads,  they  will  hae  hearts  weel-nigh  as  sair  as 
mine ;  little  think  they  what  a  sorrowful  house  they  are 
bringing  their  venison  to  !  I'll  ride  ower  Mucklestane  Moor 
my  sell." 

"  And  if  I  were  you,"  said  Dick  of  the  Dingle,  "  I  would 
speak  to  Canny  Elshie.  He  can  tell  you  whatever  betides  in 
this  land,  if  he's  sae  minded." 

"  He  shall  tell  me,"  said  Hobbie,  who  was  busy  puttin 
his  arms  in  order,  "  what  he  kens  o'  this  night's  job,  or 
shall  right  weel  ken  wherefore  he  does  not." 

''  Ay,  but  speak  him  fair,  my  bonny  man,"  said  the  ad- 
viser— ''  speak  him  fair,  Hobbie ;  the  like  o'  him  will  no 
bear  thrawing.  They  converse  sae  muckle  wi'  thae  fractious 
ghaists  and  evil  spirits  that  it  clean  spoils  their  temper." 

''  Let  me  alane  to  guide  him,"  answered  Hobbie  ;  *'  there's 
that  in  my  breast  this  day  that  would  ower-maister  a'  the 
warlocks  on  earth  and  a'  the  devils  in  hell." 

And,  being  now  fully  equipped,  he  threw  himself  on  his 
horse  and  spurred  him  at  a  rapid  pace  against  the  steep 
ascent. 

Elliot  speedily  surmounted  the  hill,  rode  down  the  other 
side  at  the  same  rate,  crossed  a  wood,  and  traversed  a  long 
glen,  ere  he  at  length  regained  Mucklestane  Moor.  As  he 
was  obliged  in  the  course  of  his  journey  to  relax  his  speed  in 
consideration  of  the  labor  which  his  horse  might  still  have  to 
undergo,  he  had  time  to  consider  maturely  in  what  manner 
Ve  should  address  the  Dwarf,  in  order  to  extract  from  him  the 
knowledge  which  he  supposed  him  to  be  in  possession  of  con- 
cerning the  authors  of  his  misfortunes.     Hobbie,  though 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  53 

blunt  plain  of  speech,  and  hot  of  disposition,  like  most  of  his 
ccuntrymen^  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  the  shrewdness 
which  is  also  their  characteristic.  He  reflected,  that  from 
wlmt  he  had  observed  on  the  memorable  night  when  the 
Dwarf  was  first  seen,  and  from  the  conduct  of  that  mysterious 
being  ever  since,  he  was  likely  to  be  rendered  even  more  ob- 
etinate  in  his  sullenness  by  threats  and  violence. 

'Til  speak  him  fair,^'  he  said,  ^^as  auld  Dickon  advised 
me.  Though  folk  say  he  has  a  league  wi'  Satan,  he  canna 
be  sic  an  incarnate  devil  as  no  to  take  some  pity  in  a  case  like 
mine  ;  and  folk  threep  he'll  whiles  do  good,  charitable  sort  o' 
things.  I'll  keep  my  heart  doun  as  weel  as  I  can,  and  stroke 
him  wi'  the  hair  ;  and  if  the  warst  come  to  the  warst,  it's  but 
wringing  the  neck  o'  him  about  at  last." 

In  this  disposition  of  accommodation  he  approached  the 
hut  of  the  Solitary. 

The  old  man  was  not  upon  his  seat  of  audience  nor  could 
Hobbie  perceive  him  in  his  garden  or  inclosures. 

"He's  gotten  into  his  very  keep,"  said  Hobbie,  "maybe 
to  be  out  o'  the  gate  ;  but  I'se  pu'  it  doun  about  his  lugs  if  I 
canna  win  at  him  otherwise." 

Having  thus  communed  with  himself,  he  raised  his  voice 
and  invoked  Elshie  in  a  tone  as  supplicating  as  his  conflict- 
ing feelings  would  permit.  "Elshie,  my  gude  friend  !"  No 
reply.  "Elshie,  canny  Father  Elshie!"  The  Dwarf  re- 
mained mute.  "  Sorrow  be  in  the  crooked  carcass  of  thee  !" 
said  the  Borderer  between  his  teeth  ;  and  then  again  attempt- 
ing a  soothing  tone — "  Good  Father  Elshie,  a  most  miserable 
creature  desires  some  counsel  of  your  wisdom." 

"  The  better  ! "  answered  the  shrill  and  discordant  voice 
of  the  Dwarf  through  a  very  small  window,  resembling  an 
arrow-slit,  which  he  had  constructed  near  the  door  of  his 
dwelling,  and  through  which  he  could  see  any  one  who 
approached  it,  without  the  possibility  of  their  looking  in  upon 
him. 

"  The  better  ! "  said  Hobbie,  impatiently  ;  "  what  is  the 
better,  Elshie  ?  .  Do  you  not  hear  me  tell  you  I  am  the  most 
miserable  wretch  living  ?" 

"And  do  you  not  hear  me  tell  you  it  is  so  much  the  bei>- 
ter  ?  and  did  I  not  tell  you  this  morning,  when  you  thought 
yourself  so  happy,  what  an  evening  was  coming  upon  you  ? " 

"That  ye  did  e'en,"  replied  Hobbie,  "and  that  gars  me 
come  to  you  for  advice  now ;  they  that  foresaw  the  trouble 
maun  ken  the  cure." 

"I  know  no   cure  for  earthly  trouble,"  returned   the 


64  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Dwarf  ;  "  or,  if  I  did,  why  should  I  help  others,  when  none 
hath  aided  me  ?  Have  I  not  lost  wealth,  that  would  have 
bought  all  thy  barren  hills  a  hundred  times  over  ?  rank,  to 
which  thine  is  as  that  of  a  peasant  ?  society,  where  there  was 
an  interchange  of  all  that  was  amiable,  of  all  that  was  intel- 
lectual ?  Have  I  not  lost  all  this  ?  Am  I  not  residing  here, 
the  veriest  outcast  on  the  face  of  Nature,  in  the  most  hideous 
and  most  solitary  of  her  retreats,  myself  more  hideous  than 
all  that  is  around  me  ?    And  why  should  other  worms  com- 

{)lain  to  me  when  they  are  trodden  on,  since  I  am  myself 
ying  crushed  and  writhing  under  the  chariot-wheel  ?  " 

"  Ye  may  have  lost  all  this,"  answered  Hobbie,  in  the 
bitterness  of  emotion  ;  *^land  and  friends,  goods  and  gear — 
ye  may  hae  lost  them  a,' ;  but  ye  ne'er  can  hae  sae  sair  a  heart 
as  mine,  for  ye  ne'er  lost  nae  Grace  Armstrong.  And  now 
my  last  hopes  are  gane,  and  I  shall  ne'er  see  her  mair." 

This  he  said  in  the  tone  of  deepest  emotion,  and  there 
followed  a  long  pause,  for  the  mention  of  his  bride's  name 
had  overcome  the  more  angry  and  irritable  feelings  of  poor 
Hobbie.  Ere  he  had  again  addressed  the  Solitary,  the  bony 
hand  and  long  fingers  of  the  latter,  holding  a  large  leathern 
bag,  was  thrust  forth  at  the  small  window,  and  as  it  un- 
clutched  the  burden,  and  let  it  drop  with  a  clang  upon  the 
ground,  his  harsh  voice  again  addressed  Elliot.  '^  There — 
there  lies  a  salve  for  every  human  ill ;  so,  at  least,  each  human 
wretch  readily  thinks.  Begone  ;  return  twice  as  wealthy  as 
thou  wert  before  yesterday,  and  torment  me  no  more  with 
questions,  complaints,  or  thanks;  they  are  alike  odious  to 
me." 

''^  It  is  a'  gowd,  by  Heaven  !  "  said  Elliot,  having  glanced 
at  the  contents ;  and  then  again  addressing  the  Hermit — 
*^  Muckle  obliged  for  your  goodwill ;  and  I  wad  blithely  gie 
you  a  bond  for  some  o'  the  siller,  or  a  wadset  ower  the  lands 
o'  Wideopen.  But  I  dinna  ken,  Elshie  ;  to  be  free  wi'  you,  1 
dinna  like  to  use  siller  unless  I  kend  it  was  decently  come  by  ; 
and  maybe  it  might  turn  into  sclate-stanes  and  cheat  some 
poor  man.'^ 

''Ignorant  idiot  !"  retorted  the  Dwarf;  ''the  trash  is  as 
genuine  poisoji  as  ever  was  dug  out  of  the  bowels  of  the 
earth.  Take  it,  use  it,  and  may  it  thrive  with  you  as  it  hath 
done  with  me  ! " 

"  But  I  tell  you,"  said  Elliot,  "  it  wasna  about  the  gear 
that  I  was  consulting  you  :  it  was  a  braw  barn-yard,  doubtless, 
and  thirty  head  of  finer  cattle  there  werena  on  this  side  of  the 
Catrail ;  but  let  the  gear  gang.     If  ye  could  but  gie  me 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  55 

speerings  o'  puir  Grace,  I  would  be  content  to  be  yonr  slave 
for  .  life,  in  onything  that  didna  touch  my  salvation.  0, 
Elshie,  speak,  man,  speak  ! " 

^'  Well,  then,"  answered  the  Dwarf,  as  if  worn  out  by  his 
importunity,  '^  since  thou  hast  not  enough  of  woes  of  thine 
own,  but  must  needs  seek  to  burden  thyself  with  those  of  a 
partner,  seek  her  whom  thou  hast  lost  in  the  West." 

"In  the  West  9     That's  a  wide  word/' 

'Mt  is  the  last,"  said  the  Dwarf,  "which  I  design  to 
ntter ; "  and  he  drew  the  shutters  of  his  window,  leaving 
Hobbie  to  make  the  most  of  the  hint  he  had  given. 

"The  west!  the  west!"  thought  Elliot;  "the  country 
is  pretty  quiet  down  that  way,  unless  it  were  Jock  o'  the 
Todholes  ;  and  he's  ower  auld  now  for  the  like  o'  thae  jobs. 
West !  By  my  life,  it  must  be  Westbumflat.  Elshie, 
just  tell  me  one  word.  Am  I  right  ?  Is  it  Westburnflat  ? 
If  I  am  wrang,  say  sae.  I  wadna  like  to  wyte  an  innocent 
neighbor  wi'  violence.  No  answer?  It  must  be  the  Red 
Reiver.  I  didna  think  he  wad  hae  ventured  on  me,  neither, 
and  sae  mony  kin  as  there's  o'  us.  I  am  thinking  he'll  hae 
some  better  backing  than  his  Cumberland  friends.  Fareweel 
to  you,  Elshie,  and  mony  thanks.  I  downa  be  fashed  wi' 
the  siller  e'en  now,  for  I  maun  awa'  to  meet  my  friends  at  the 
trysting-place.  Sae,  if  ye  carena  to  open  the  window,  ye  can 
fetch  it  in  after  I'm  awa'." 

Still  there  was  no  reply. 

"He's  deaf  or  he's  daft,  or  he's  baith ;  but  I  hae  nae  time 
to  stay  to  claver  wi'  him." 

And  off  rode  Hobbie  Elliot  towards  the  place  of  rendez- 
vous which  he  had  named  to  his  friends. 

Four  or  five  riders  were  already  gathered  at  the  Trysting 
Pool.  They  stood  in  close  consultation  together,  while  their 
horses  were  permitted  to  graze  among  the  poplars  which  over- 
hung the  broad  still  pool.  A  more  numerous  party  were  seen 
coming  from  the  southward.  It  proved  to  be  Earnscliff  and 
his  party,  who  had  followed  the  track  of  the  cattle  as  far  as 
the  English  border,  but  had  halted  on  the  information  that  a 
considerable  force  was  drawn  together  under  some  of  the 
Jacobite  gentlemen  in  that  district,  and  there  were  tidings  of 
insurrection  in  different  parts  of  Scotland.  This  took  away 
from  the  act  which  had  been  perpetrated  the  appearance  of 
private  animosity  or  love  of  plunder  ;•  and  Earnscliff  was  now 
disposed  to  regard  it  as  a  symptom  of  civil  war.  The  young 
gentleman  greeted  Hobbie  with  the  most  sincere  sympathy, 
and  informed  him  of  the  news  he  had  received. 


56  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"Then,  may  I  never  stir  frae  the  bit,"  said  Elliot,  ^'ii 
auld  EUieslaw  is  not  at  the  bottom  o^  the  haill  villany  !  Ye 
see  he's  leagued  wi'  the  Cumberland  Catholics  ;  and  that 
agrees  weel  wi'  what  Elshie  hinted  about  Westburnflat,  for 
EUieslaw  aye  protected  him,  and  he  will  want  to  harry  and 
disarm  the  country  about  his  ain  hand  before  he  breaks  out/' 

Some  now  remembered  that  the  party  of  ruffians  had  been 
heard  to  say  they  were  acting  for  James  VIII.,  and  were 
charged  to  disarm  all  rebels.  Others  had  heard  Westburnflat 
boast,  in  drinking  parties,  that  EUieslaw  would  soon  be  in 
arms  for  the  Jacobite  cause,  and  that  he  himself  was  to  hold 
a  command  under  him,  and  that  they  would  be  bad  neigh- 
bors for  young  Earnscliff,  and  all  that  stood  out  for  the  es- 
tablished government.  The  result  was  a  strong  belief  that 
Westburnflat  had  headed  the  party  under  Ellieslaw's  orders  ; 
and  they  resolved  to  proceed  instantly  to  the  house  of  the 
former,  and,  if  possible,  to  secure  his  person.  They  were  by 
this  time  joined  by  so  many  of  their  dispersed  friends  that 
■their  number  amounted  to  upwards  of  twenty  horsemen,  well 
mounted,  and  tolerably,  though  variously,  armed. 

A  brook,  which  issued  from  a  narrow  glen  among  the 
hills,  entered,  at  Westburnflat,  upon  the  open  marshy  level, 
which,  expanding  about  half  a  mile  in  every  direction,  gives 
name  to  the  spot.  In  this  place  the  character  of  the  stream 
becomes  changed,  and,  from  being  a  lively  brisk-running 
mountain-torrent,  it  stagnates,  like  a  blue  swollen  snake,  in 
d:ll  deep  windings  through  the  swampy  level.  On  the  side 
J.'  the  stream,  and  nearly  about  the  centre  of  the  plain,  arose 
the  tower  of  Westburnflat,  one  of  the  few  remaining  strong' 
hoils  formerly  so  numerous  upon  the  Borders.  The  ground 
npoi  which  it  stood  was  gently  elevated  above  the  marsh  for 
the  space  of  about  a  hundred  yards,  affording  an  esplanade  of 
dry  turf,  which  extended  itself  in  the  immediate  neighbor- 
hood of  the  tower,  but  beyond  which  the  surface  presented  to 
strangers  was  that  of  an  impassable  and  dangerous  bog.  The 
owner  of  the  tower  and  his  inmates  alone  knew  the  winding 
and  intricate  paths,  which,  leading  over  ground  thjat  was 
comparatively  sound,  admitted  visitors  to  his  residence.  But 
among  the  party  which  were  assembled  under  Earnscliff's 
directions  there  was  more  than  one  person  qualified  to  act  as 
a  guide.  For  although  the  owner's  character  and  habits  of 
life  were  generally  known,  yet  the  laxity  of  feeling  with 
respect  to  property  prevented  his  being  looked  on  with  tlie 
abhorrence  with  whicn  he  must  have  been  regarded  in  a  more 
civilized  country.      He    was  considered,   among  his  more 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  57 

peaceable  neighbors,  pretty  much  as  a  gambler,  cock-fighter, 
or  horse-jockey  would  be  regarded  at  the  present  day  ;  a  per- 
son, of  course,  whose  habits  were  to  be  condemned,  and  his 
society,  in  general,  avoided,  yet  who  could  not  be  considered 
as  marked  with  the  indelible  infamy  attached  to  his  profession 
in  a  society  where  the  laws  have  been  habitually  observed. 
And  their  indignation  was  awakened  against  him  upon  this 
occasion,  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  general  nature  of 
the  transaction,  which  was  just  such  as  was  to  be  expected 
from  this  marauder,  as  because  the  violence  had  been  per- 
petrated upon  a  neighbor  against  whom  he  had  no  cause  of 
quarrel,  against  a  friend  of  their  own,  above  all,  against  one 
of  the  name  of  Elliot,  to  which  clan  most  of  them  belonged. 
It  was  not,  therefore,  wonderful,  that  there  should  be  several 
in  the  band  pretty  well  acquainted  with  tlie  locality  of  his 
habitation,  and  capable  of  giving  such  directions  and  guid- 
ance as  soon  placed  the  whole  party  on  the  open  space  of  firm 
ground  in  front  of  the  Tower  of  Westburnflat. 


CHAPTER  IX 

So  spak  the  knicht.    The  geaunt  sed. 
Lead  forth  with  the  the  sely  maid, 

And  mak  me  quite  of  the  and  sche  ; 
For  glaunsing  ee,  or  brow  so  brent, 
Or  cheek  with  rose  and  lilye  blent, 

Me  lists  not  ficht  with  the. 

Romance  of  the  Falcon. 

The  tower,  before  which  the  party  now  stood,  was  a  smalJi 
square  building,  of  the  most  gloomy  aspect.  The  walls  were 
of  great  thickness,  and  the  windows,  or  slits  which  served  the 
purpose  of  windows,  seemed  rather  calculated  to  afford  the 
defenders  the  means  of  employing  missile  weapons  than  for 
admitting  air  or  light  to  the  apartments  within.  A  small 
battlement  projected  over  the  walls  on  every  side,  and  afforded 
farther  advantage  of  defence  by  its  niched  parapet,  within 
which  arose  a  steep  roof  flagged  with  gray  stones.  A  single 
turret  at  one  angle,  defended  by  a  door  studded  with  huge 
iron  nails,  rose  above  the  battlement,  and  gave  access  to  the 
roof  from  within,  by  the  spiral  staircase  which  it  inclosed. 
It  seemed  to  the  party  that  their  motions  were  watched  by 
some  one  concealed  within  this  turret ;  and  they  were  con- 
firmed in  their  belief  when,  through  a  narrow  loophole,  a 
female  hand  was  seen  to  wave  a  handkerchief,  as  if  by  way  of 
signal  to  them.  Hobbie  was  almost  out  of  his  senses  with  joy 
and  eagerness. 

"  It  was  Grace's  hand  and  arm,"  he  said  ;  "  I  can  swear 
to  it  amang  a  thousand.  There  is  not  the  like  of  it  on  this 
side  of  the  Lowdens.  We'll  have  her  out,  lads,  if  we  should 
carry  off  the  Tower  of  Westburnflat  stane  by  stane.'' 

Earnscliff,  though  he  doubted  the  possibility  of  recog- 
nizing a  fair  maiden's  hand  at  such  a  distance  from  the  eye 
of  the  lover,  would  say  nothing  to  damp  his  friend's  animated 
hopes,  and  it  was  resolved  to  summon  the  garrison. 

The  shouts  of  the  party,  and  the  winding  of  one  or  two 
horns,  at  length  brought  to  a  loophole  which  flanked  the  en- 
trance the  haggard  face  of  an  old  woman. 

"  That's  the  Reiver's  mother,"  said  one  of  the  Elliots ; 


THE  BLACK  DJVARF  59 

''  she's  ten  times  wanr  than  himsell,  and  is  wyted  formnckle  . 
of  the  ill  he  does  about  the  country/' 

"  Wha  are  ye  ?  What  d'ye  want  here  ?  "  were  the  queries 
of  the  respectable  progenitor, 

"  We  are  seeking  William  Graeme  of  Westbumflat/'  said 
Earnscliff. 

"He's  no  at  hame,"  returned  the  old  dame. 

''When  did  he  leave  home  ?"  pursued  Earnsclifl. 

*'I  canna  tell,"  said  the  portress. 

''  When  will  he  return  ?  "  said  Hobbie  Elliot. 

''I  dinna  ken  nae thing  about  it/* replied  the  inexorable 
guardian  of  the  keep. 

"Is  there  anybody  within  the  tower  with  yon  ?"  again 
demanded  Earnscliff. 

"  Naebody  but  mysell  and  baudrons/'  said  the  old  woman. 

"Then  open  the  gate  and  admit  us,"  said  Earnscliff ;  "I 
am  a  justice  of  peace,  and  in  search  of  the  evidence  of  a 
felony." 

"  Deil  be  in  their  fingers  that  draws  a  bolt  for  ye,'* 
retorted  the  portress  ;  "  for  m.ine  shall  never  do  it.  Thinkna 
ye  shame  o'  yoursells,  to  come  here  siccan  a  band  o'  ye,  wi' 
your  swords  and  spears  and  steel-caps,  to  frighten  a  lone 
widow  woman  ?" 

"  Our  information,"  said  Earnscliff,  "is  positive  ;  we  are 
seeking  goods  which  have  been  forcibly  carried  off,  to  a  great 
amount." 

"And  a  young  woman  that's  been  cruelly  made  prisoner, 
that's  worth  mair  than  a'  the  gear  twice  told,"  said  Hobbie. 

"And  I  warn  you,"  continued  Earnscliff,  "that  your  only 
way  to  prove  your  son's  innocence  is  to  give  us  quiet  admit- 
tance to  search  the  house." 

"  And  what  will  ye  do  if  I  carena  to  thraw  the  keys,  or 
draw  the  bolts,  or  open  the  grate  to  sic  a  clanjamf rie  ?  said 
the  old  dame,  scoffingly. 

"  Force  our  way  with  the  king's  keys,  and  break  the  neck 
of  every  living  soul  we  find  in  the  house,  if  ye  dinna  gie  it 
ower  forthwith  ! "  menaced  the  incensed  Hobbie. 

"  Threatened  folks  live  lang,"  said  the  hag,  in  the  same 
tone  of  irony  ;  "there's  the  iron  grate,  try  your  skeel  on't, 
lads  ;  it  has  kept  out  as  gude  men  as  you  or  now." 

So  saying,  she  laughed,  and  withdrew  from  the  aperture 
through  which  she  had  held  the  parley. 

The  besiegers  now  opened  a  serious  consultation.  The 
immense  thickness  of  the  walls,  and  the  small  size  of  the  win- 
dows, might  for  a  time  have  even  resisted  cannon-shot.     The 


60  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

entrance  was  secured,  first,  by  a  strong  grated  door,  com- 
posed entirely  of  hammered  iron,  of  such  ponderous  strength 
as  seemed  calculated  to  resist  any  force  tliat  could  be  brought 
against  it.  "  Pinches  or  forehammers  will  never  pick  upon't,'' 
said  Hugh,  the  blacksmith  of  Ringleburn  ;  ''ye  might  as 
weel  batter  at  it  wi'  pipe-staples." 

Within  the  doorway,  and  at  the  distance  of  nine  feet, 
which  was  the  solid  thickness  of  the  wall,  there  was  a  second 
door  of  oak,  crossed,  both  breadth  and  lengthways,  with 
clinched  bars  of  iron,  and  studded  full  of  broad-headed  nails. 
Besides  all  these  defences,  they  were  by  no  means  confident 
in  the  truth  of  the  old  dame^s  assertion  that  she  alone  com- 
posed the  garrison.  The  more  knowing  of  the  party  had 
observed  hoof-marks  in  the  track  by  which  they  approached 
the  tower,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  several  persons  had 
very  lately  passed  in  that  direction. 

To  all  these  difficulties  was  added  their  want  of  means  for 
attacking  the  place.  There  was  no  hope  of  procuring  ladders 
long  enough  to  reach  the  battlements,  and  the  windows,  be- 
sides being  very  narrow,  were  secured  with  iron  bars.  Scaling 
was  therefore  out  of  the  question  ;  mining  was  still  more  so, 
for  want  of  tools  and  gunpowder ;  neither  were  the  besiegers 
provided  with  food,  means  of  shelter,  or  other  conveniences, 
which  might  have  enabled  them  to  convert  the  siege  into  a 
blockade  ;  and  there  would,  at  any  rate,  have  been  a  risk  of 
relief  from  some  of  the  marauder's  comrades.  Hobbie 
grinded  and  gnashed  his  teeth,  as,  walking  round  the  fast- 
ness, he  could  devise  no  means  of  making  a  forcible  entry. 
At  length  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  ''And  what  for  no  do  as 
our  fathers  did  lang  syne  ?  Put  hand  to  the  wark,  lads. 
Let  us  cut  up  bushes  and  briers,  pile  them  before  the  door 
and  set  fire  to  them,  and  smoke  that  auld  devil's  dam  as  if 
she  were  to  be  reested  for  bacon." 

All  immediately  closed  with  this  proposal,  and  some  went 
to  work  with  swords  and  knives  to  cut  down  the  alder  and 
hawthorn  bushes  which  grew  by  the  side  of  the  sluggish 
stream,  many  of  which  were  sufficiently  decayed  and  dried 
for  their  purpose,  while  others  began  to  collect  them  in  a 
large  stack,  properly  disposed  for  burning,  as  close  to  the  iron 
grate  as  they  could  be  piled.  Fire  was  speedily  obtained 
from  one  of  their  ^uns,  and  Hobbie  was  already  advancing 
to  the  pile  with  a  kmdled  brand,  when  the  surly  face  of  the 
robber  and  the  muzzle  of  a  musquetoon  were  partially  shown 
at  a  shot-hole  which  flanked  the  entrance.  "Mony  thanks 
to  ye,"  ho  said,  scoffingly,  "for  collecting  sae  muckle  winter 


.  THE  BLACK  DWARF  61 

eliding  for  ns  ;  but  if  ye  step  a  foot  nearer  it  wi'  that  lunt, 
it's  be  the  dearest  step  ye  ever  made  in  your  days/' 

^'  We'll  sune  see  that/'  said  Hobble,  advancing  fearlessly 
with  the  torch. 

The  marauder  snapped  his  piece  at  him,  which,  fortu- 
nately for  our  honest  friend,  did  not  go  off ;  while  Earnscliff, 
firing  at  the  same  moment  at  the  narrow  aperture  and  slight 
mark  afforded  by  the  robber's  face,  grazed  the  side  of  his  head 
with  a  bullet.  He  had  apparently  calculated  upon  his  post  af- 
fording him  more  security,  for  he  no  sooner  felt  the  wound, 
though  a  very  slight  one,  than  he  requested  a  parley,  and 
demanded  to  know  what  they  meant  by  attacking  in  this 
fashion  a  peaceable  and  honest  man,  and  shedding  his  blood 
in  that  lawless  manner. 

^' We  want  your  prisoner,"  said  Earnscliff,  "to  be  deliv- 
ered up  to  us  in  safety." 

"  And  what  concern  have  you  with  her  ? "  replied  the 
marauder. 

"That,"  retorted  Earnscliff,  "you,  who  are  detaining 
her  by  force,  have  no  right  to  inquire." 

"  Aweel,  I  think  I  can  gie  a  guess,"  said  the  robber. 
"  Weel,  sirs,  I  am  laith  to  enter  into  deadly  feud  with  you  by 
spilling  ony  of  your  bluid,  though  Earnscliff  hasna  stopped 
to  shed  mine,  and  he  can  hit  a  mark  to  a  groat's  breadth  ;  so, 
to  prevent  mair  skaith,  I  am  willing  to  deliver  up  the  pris- 
oner, since  nae  less  will  please  you." 

"And  Hobble's  gear?"  cried  Simon  of  Hackbum* 
"D'ye  think  you're  to  be  free  to  plunder  the  faulds  and  byres 
of  a  gentle  Elliot  as  if  they  were  an  auld  wife's  hen's  cavey  ?'* 

"  As  I  live  by  bread,"  replied  Willie  of  Westburnflat — 
"as  I  live  by  bread,  I  have  not  a  single  cloot  o'  them! 
They're  a'  ower  the  march  lang  syne  ;  there's  no  a  horn  o'  them 
about  the  tower.  But  I'll  see  what  o'  them  can  be  gotten 
back,  and  I'll  take  this  day  twa  days  to  meet  Hobble  at  the 
Castleton  wi'  twa  friends  on  ilka  side,  and  see  to  make  an 
agreement  about  a'  the  wrang  he  can  wyte  me  wi'." 

"Ay,  ay," said  Elliot,  "that  will  do  weel  enough."  And 
then  aside  to  his  kinsman,  "Murrain  on  the  gear!  Lord- 
sake,  man  !  say  naught  about  them.  Let  us  but  get  puir 
Grace  out  o*  that  auld  hellicat's  clutches." 

"Will  ye  gie  me  your  word,  Earnscliff,"  said  the  ma- 
rauder, who  still  lingered  at  the  shot-hole,  "  your  faith  and 
troth,  with  hand  and  glove,  that  I  am  free  to  come  and  free 
to  gae,  with  five  minutes  to  open  the  grate  and  five  min^ 
utes  to  steek  it  and  to  draw  the  bolts  ?  less  winna  do,  for 
they  want  creishing  sairly.     Will  ye  do  this  ?*' 


tf2  WAVERLEY  NOVELS , 

"  You  shall  have  full  time/'  said  Earnscliff ;  ^'  I  plight 
my  faith  and  troth,  my  hand  and  my  glove/' 

"Wait  there  a  moment,  then,"  said  Westburnflat ;  "or 
hear  ye,  I  wad  rather  ye  wad  fa*  back  a  pistol-shot  from  the 
door.  It's  no  that  I  mistrust  your  word,  Earnscliff;  but 
it's  best  to  be  sure." 

"  0,  friend,"  thought  Hobbie  to  himself,  as  he  drew 
back,  "an  I  had  you  but  on  Turner's  Holm,*  and  naebody 
by  but  twa  honest  lads  to  see  fair  play,  I  wad  make  ye  wish 
ye  had  broken  your  leg  ere  ye  had  touched  beast  or  body 
that  belanged  to  me  ! " 

"  He  has  a  white  feather  in  his  wing,  this  same  West- 
burnflat, after  a',"  said  Simon  of  Hackburn,  somewhat  scan- 
dalized by  his  ready  surrender.  "  He'll  ne'er  fill  his  father's 
boots." 

In  the  mean  while,  the  inner  door  of  the  tower  was 
opened,  and  the  mother  of  the  freebooter  appeared  in  the 
space  betwixt  that  and  the  outer  grate.  Willie  himself  was 
next  seen,  leading  forth  a  female,  and  the  old  woman,  care- 
fully bolting  the  grate  behind  them,  remained  on  the  post 
as  a  sort  of  sentinel. 

"  Ony  ane  or  twa  o'  ye  come  forward,"  said  the  outlaw, 
"and  take  her  frae  my  hand  haill  and  sound." 

Hobbie  advanced  eagerly  to  meet  his  betrothed  bride. 
Earnscliff  followed  more  slowly,  to  guard  against  treachery. 
Suddenly  Hobbie  slackened  his  pace  in  the  deepest  morti- 
fication, while  that  of  Earnscliff  was  hastened  by  impatient 
surprise.  It  was  not  Grace  Armstrong  but  Miss  Isabella 
Vere  whose  liberation  had  been  effected  by  their  appearance 
before  the  tower. 

"  Where  is  Grace  ?  where  is  Grace  Armstrong  ? "  ex- 
claimed Hobbie,  in  the  extremity  of  wrath  and  indignation. 

"Not  in  my  hands,"  answered  Westburnflat;  "ye  may 
search  the  tower  if  ye  misdoubt  me." 

"You  false  villain,  you  shall  account  for  her,  or  die  on 
the  spot,"  said  Elliot,  presenting  his  gun. 

But  his  companions,  who  now  came  up,  instantly  dis- 
armed him  of  his  weapon,  exclaiming  all  at  once,  "  Hand 
and  glove !  faith  and  troth  I  Hand  a  care,  Hobbie  ;  we  maun 
keep  our  faith  wi'  Westburnflat,  were  he  the  greatest  rogue 
ever  rode." 

Thus  protected,  the  outlaw  recovered  his  audacity,  which 
had  been  somewhat  daunted  by  the  menacing  gesture  of 
EUiot. 

«SeeNote6, 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  «8 

'^ I  have  kept  my  word,  sirs,"  he  said,  ''and  I  look  to 
have  nae  wrang  amang  ye.  If  this  is  no  the  prisoner  ye 
sought,"  he  said,  addressing  Earnscliff,  "  ye'll  render  her 
back  to  me  again.  I  am  answerable  for  her  to  those  that 
aught  her." 

''For  God^s  sake,  Mr.  Earnscliff,  protect  me  ! "  said  Miss 
Vere,  clinging  to  her  deliverer  ;  "  do  not  you  abandon  one 
whom  the  whole  world  seems  to  have  abandoned." 

"  Fear  nothing,"  whispered  Earnscliff,  "  I  will  protect 
you  with  my  life. "  Then  turning  to  Westburnflat,  "Villain  ! " 
he  said,  "  how  dared  you  to  insult  this  lady  ?  " 

"  For  that  matter,  Earnscliff,"  answered  the  freebooter, 
"  I  can  answer  to  them  that  has  better  right  to  ask  me  than 
you  have  ;  but  if  you  come  with  an  armed  force  and  take  her 
awa'  from  them  that  her  friends  lodged  her  wi^  how  will  you 
answer  that  ?  But  it's  your  ain  affair.  Nae  single  man  can 
keep  a  tower  against  twenty.  A^  the  men  o'  the  Meams 
downa  do  mair  than  they  dow." 

"  He  lies  most  falsely,"  said  Isabella  ;  **he  carried  me  off 
by  violence  from  my  father." 

"  Maybe  he  only  wanted  ye  to  think  sae,  hinny,^'  replied 
the  robber ;  "  but  it's  nae  business  o'  mine,  let  it  be  as  it 
may.     So  ye  winna  resign  her  back  to  me  ?  " 

"  Back  to  you,  fellow  ?  Surely  no,"  answered  Earnscliff  ; 
"  I  will  protect  Miss  Vere,  and  escort  her  safely  wherever  she 
is  pleased  to  be  conveyed." 

"Ay,  ay,  maybe  you  and  her  hae  settled  that  already,*' 
said  Willie  of  Westburnflat. 

"And  Grace?"  interrupted  Hobbie,  shaking  himself 
loose  from  the  friends  who  had  been  preaching  to  him  the 
sanctity  of  the  safe-conduct,  upon  the  faith  of  which  the 
freebooter  had  ventured  from  his  tower,  "where's  Grace?*' 
and  he  rushed  on  the  marauder,  sword  in  hand. 

Westburnflat,  thus  pressed,  after  calling  out,  "  God  sake, 
Hobbie,  hear  me  a  gliff  ! "  fairly  turned  his  back  and  fled. 
His  mother  stood  ready  to  open  and  shut  the  grate ;  but 
Hobbie  struck  at  the  freebooter  as  he  entered  with  so  much 
force  that  the  sword  made  a  considerable  cleft  in  the  lintel 
of  the  vaulted  door,  which  is  still  shown  as  a  memorial  of 
the  superior  strength  of  those  who  lived  in  the  days  of  yore.* 
Ere  Hobbie  could  repeat  the  blow,  the  door  was  shut  and 
secured,  and  he  was  compelled  to  retreat  to  his  companions, 
who  were  now  preparing  to  break  up  the  siege  of  Westburn- 
flat. They  insisted  upon  his  accompanying  them  in  their 
return 

*  See  Pierced  LiBteU   Note  7. 


64  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''  Ye  hae  broken  truce  already/'  said  old  Dick  of  the 
Dingle;  ''an  we  takena  the  better  care,  ye^U  play  mair 
gowk's  tricks,  and  make  yoursell  the  laughing-stock  of  the 
haill  country,  besides  having  your  friends  charged  with 
slaughter  under  trust.  Bide  till  the  meeting  at  Castleton, 
as  ye  hae  greed ,  and  if  he  disna  make  ye  amends,  then  we'll 
hae  it  out  o'  his  heart's  blood.  But  let  us  gang  reasonably 
to  wark  and  keep  our  tryste,  and  I'se  warrant  we  get  back 
Grace  and  the  kye  an'  a'." 

Tliis  cold-blooded  reasoning  went  ill  down  with  the  un- 
fortunate lover ;  but,  as  he  could  only  obtain  the  assistance 
of  his  neighbors  and  kinsmen  on  their  own  terms,  he  was 
compelled  to  acquiesce  in  their  notions  of  good  faith  and 
regular  procedure. 

Eaniscliff  now  requested  the  assistance  of  a  few  of  the 
party  to  convey  Miss  Vere  to  her  father's  castle  of  Ellieslaw, 
to  which  she  was  peremptory  in  desiring  to  be  conducted. 
This  was  readily  granted,  and  five  or  six  young  men  agreed 
to  attend  him  as  an  escort.  Hobbie  was  not  of  the  number. 
Almost  heart-broken  by  the  events  of  the  day  and  his  final 
disappointment,  he  returned  moodily  home  to  take  such 
measures  as  he  could  for  the  sustenance  and  protection  of  his 
family,  and  to  arrange  with  his  neighbors  the  farther  steps 
which  should  be  adopted  for  the  recovery  of  Grace  Armstrong. 
The  rest  of  the  party  dispersed  in  different  directions,  as 
soon  as  they  had  crossed  the  morass.  The  outlaw  and  his 
mother  watched  them  from  the  tower  until  they  entirely  dis- 
appeared. 


CHAPTER  X 

I  left  my  ladye's  bower  last  night — 
It  was  clad  in  wreaths  of  snaw, — 

m  seek  it  when  the  sun  is  bright, 
And  sweet  the  roses  blaw. 

Old  BaUad. 

Il^'CEiTSED  at  what  he  deemed  the  coldness  of  his  friends  in 
a  cause  which  interested  him  so  nearly,  Hobbie  had  shaken 
himself  free  of  their  company,  and  was  now  on  his  solitary 
road  homeward.  "The  fiend  founder  thee  !''  said  he,  as  he 
spurred  impatiently  his  over-fatigued  and  stumbling  horse ; 
*^  thou  art  like  a^  the  rest  o'  them.  Hae  I  not  bred  thee  and 
fed  thee  and  dressed  thee  wi'  mine  ain  hand,  and  wouldst 
thou  snapper  now  and  break  my  neck  at  my  utmost  need  ? 
But  thou'rt  e'en  like  the  lave  :  the  farthest  off  o'  them  a'  is 
my  cousin  ten  times  removed,  and  day  or  night  I  wad  hae 
served  them  wi'  my  best  blood  ;  and  now  I  think  tliey  show 
mair  regard  to  the  common  thief  of  Westburnflat  than  to 
their  ain  kinsman.  But  I  should  see  the  lights  now  in 
Heughfoot.  Wue's  me  ! "  he  continued,  recollecting  himself, 
"  there  will  neither  coal  nor  candle-light  shine  in  the  Heughfoot 
ony  mair !  An  it  werena  for  my  mother  and  sisters  and  poor 
Grace, -I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  put  spurs  to  the  beast  and 
loup  ower  the  scaur  into  the  water  to  make  an  end  o't  a'." 
In  this  disconsolate  mood  he  turned  his  horse's  bridle  towards 
the  cottage  in  which  his  family  had  found  refuge. 

As  he  approached  the  door  he  heard  whispering  and  titter- 
ing among  his  sisters.  "  The  deevil's  in  the  women,"  said 
poor  Hobbie  ;  "  they  would  nicker  and  laugh  and  giggle  if 
their  best  friend  was  lying  a  corp  ;  and  yet  I  am  glad  they  can 
keep  -up  their  hearts  sae  weel,  poor  silly  things ;  but  the 
dirdum  fa's  on  me,  to  be  sure,  and  no  on  them." 

While  he  thus  meditated,  he  was  engaged  in  fastening  up 
his  horse  in  ashed.  "Thou  maun  do  without  horse-sheet 
and  surcingle  now,  lad,"  he  said,  addressing  the  animal ; 
**yon  and  me  hae  had  a  downcome  alike  ;  we  had  better  hae 
fa'en  in  the  deepest  pool  o'  Tarras." 

He  was  interrupted,  by  the  youngest  of  his  sisters,  who 


86  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

came  running  out,  and,  speaking  in  a  constrained  voicC;,  as  1'^ 
to  stifle  some  emotion,  called  out  to  him,  '^  What  are  ye  do- 
ing there,  Hobbie,  fiddling  about  the  naig,  and  there's  ane 
f rae  Cumberland  been  waiting  here  for  ye  this  hour  and  mair  ? 
Haste  ye  in,  man  ;  I'll  take  off  the  saddle. " 

"  Ane  frae  Cumberland  !  "  exclaimed  Elliot ;  and,  putting 
the  bridle  of  his  horse  into  the  hand  of  his  sister,  he  rushed 
into  the  cottage.  ''Where  is  he  ?  where  is  he?"  he  ex- 
claimed, glancing  eagerly  around,  and  seeing  only  females. 
*'  Did  he  bring  news  of  Grace  ?'' 

''  He  doughtna  bide  an  instant  langer,"  said  the  elder  sis- 
ter, still  with  a  suppressed  laugh. 

*'  Hout  fie,  bairns  ! "  said  the  old  lady,  with  something  of 
a  good-humored  reproof,  ''  ye  shouldna  vex  your  billie  Hob- 
bie that  way.  Look  round,  my  bairn,  and  see  if  there  isna 
ane  here  mair  than  ye  left  this  morning.'' 

Hobbie  looked  eagerly  around.  ''  There's  you  and  the 
three  titties." 

"  There's  four  of  us  now,  Hobbie,  lad,"  said  the  youngest, 
who  at  this  moment  entered. 

In  an  instant  Hobbie  had  in  his  arms  Grace  Armstrong, 
who,  with  one  of  his  sisters'  plaid  around  her,  had  passed 
unnoticed  at  his  first  entrance.  "How  dared  you  do  this  ?  " 
said  Hobbie. 

"  It  wasna  my  fault,"  said  Grace,  endeavoring  to  cover  her 
face  with  her  hands  to  hide  at  once  her  blushes  and  escape 
the  storm  of  hearty  kisses  with  which  her  bridegroom  pun- 
ished her  simple  stratagem — ''  it  wasna  my  fault,  Hobbie  ;  ye 
should  kiss  Jeanie  and  the  rest  o'  them,  for  they  hae  the  wyte 
o't." 

"  And  so  I  will,"  said  Hobbie,  and  embraced  and  kissed 
his  sisters  and  grandmother  a  hundred  times,  while  the  whole 
party  half-laughed,  half-cried,  in  the  extremity  of  their  joy. 
''  I  am  the  happiest  man,"  said  Hobbie,  throwing  himself 
down  on  a  seat,  almost  exhausted — "  I  am  the  happiest  man 
in  the  world  !  " 

"  Then,  0  my  dear  bairn,"  said  the  good  old  dame,  who 
lost  no  opportunity  of  teaching  her  lesson  of  religion  at'  those 
moments  when  the  heart  was  best  open  to  receive  it — "  then, 
0  my  son,  give  praise  to  Him  that  brings  smiles  out  o'  tears 
and  joy  out  o'  grief,  as  He  brought  light  out  o'  darkness  and  the 
world  out  o'  naething.  Was  it  not  my  word,  that  if  ye  could 
say  '  His  will  be  done,'  ye  might  hae  cause  to  say  *  His  name 
be  praised  ? ' " 

"  It  was — it  was  your  word,  grannie  ;   and  I  do  praise 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  67 

Him  for  His  mercy,  and  for  leaving  me  a  good  parent  when 
my  ain  were  gane/^  said  honest  Hobbie,  taking  her  hand, 
''that  puts  me  in  mind  to  think  of  Him  baith  in  happiness 
and  distress." 

There  was  a  solemn  pause  of  one  or  two  minutes,  employed 
in  the  exercise  of  mental  devotion,  which  expressed,  in  purity 
and  sincerity,  the  gratitude  of  the  affectionate  family  to  that 
Providence  who  had  unexpectedly  restored  to  their  embraces 
the  friend  whom  they  had  lost. 

Hobbie^s  first  inquiries  were  concerning  the  adventures 
which  Grace  had  undergone.  They  were  told  at  length,  but 
amounted  in  substance  to  this  :  That  she  was  awaked  by  the 
noise  which  the  ruffians  made  in  breaking  into  the  house,  and 
by  the  resistance  made  by  one  or  two  of  the  servants,  which 
was  soon  overpowered  ;  that,  dressing  herself  hastily,  she  ran 
downstairs,  and  having  seen,  in  the  scuffle,  AVestburnflat's 
vizard  drop  off,  imprudently  named  him  by  his  name  and 
besought  him  for  mercy  ;  that  the  ruffian  instantly  stopped 
her  mouth,  dragged  her  from  the  house,  and  placed  her  on 
horseback  behind  one  of  his  associates. 

''  ril  break  the  accursed  neck  of  him,"  said  Hobbie,  ''if 
there  werena  another  Grgeme  in  the  land  buthimsell  V 

She  proceeded  to  say,  that  she  was  carried  southward 
along  with  the  party,  and  the  spoil  which  they  drove  before 
them,  until  they  had  crossed  the  Border.  Suddenly  a  per- 
son, known  to  her  as  a  kinsman  of  Westbumflat,  came  riding 
very  fast  after  the  marauders,  and  told  their  leader  that  his 
cousin  had  learned  from  a  sure  hand  that  no  luck  would  come 
of  it  unless  the  lass  was  restored  to  her  friends.  After  some 
discussion  the  chief  of  the  party  seemed  to  acquiesce.  Grace 
was  placed  behind  her  new  guardian,  who  pursued  in  silence, 
and  with  great  speed,  the  least-frequented  path  to  the 
Heughfoot,  and  ere  evening  closed  set  down  the  fatigwed 
and  terrified  damsel  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  dwell- 
ing of  her  friends.  Many  and  sincere  were  the  congratula- 
tions which  passed  on  all  sides. 

As  these  emotions  subsided,  less  pleasing  considerations 
began  to  intrude  themselves. 

"This  is  a  miserable  place  for  ye  a',"  said  Hobbie,  looking 
around  him  ;  "I  can  sleep  weel  eneugh  mysell  outbye  beside 
the  naig,  as  I  hae  done  mony  a  lang  night  on  the  hills  ;  but 
how  ye  are  to  put  yoursells  up,  I  canna  see  !  And  what's 
waur,  I  canna  mend  it ;  and  what's  waur  than  a^  the  morn 
may  come,  and  the  day  after  that,  without  your  being  a  bit 
t»«tter  off." 


68  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'^  It  was  a  cowardly  cruel  thing,"  said  one  of  the  sisters, 
looking  round,  '^'^to  harry  a  puir  family  to  the  bare  wa's  this 
gate." 

'^  And  leave  us  neither  stirk  nor  stot,"  said  the  youngest 
brother,  who  now  entered,  ''  nor  sheep  nor  lamb,  nor  aught 
that  eats  grass  and  corn." 

''  If  they  had  ony  quarrel  wi^  us,"  said  Harry,  the  second 
brother,  ''  were  we  na  ready  to  have  fought  it  out  ?  And  that 
we  should  have  been  a^  frae  hame  too,  ane  and  a^  upon  the 
hill.  Odd,  an  we  had  been  at  hame.  Will  Graeme's  stamach 
shouldna  hae  wanted  its  morning  ;  but  it's  biding  him,  is  it 
aa,  Hobbie  ?  " 

'^  Our  neighbors  hae  taen  a  day  at  the  Castleton  to  gree 
wi'  him  at  the  sight  o'  men,"  said  Hobbie,  mournfully  ;  "  they 
behoved  to  have  it  a'  their  ain  gate,  or  there  was  nae  help  to 
be  got  at  their  hands." 

*'  To  gree  wi'  him  !"  exclaimed  both  his  brothers  at  once, 
'*  after  siccan  an  act  of  stouthrif e  as  hasna  been  heard  o'  in 
the  country  since  the  auld  riding  days  ! " 

^'  Very  true,  billies,  and  my  blood  was  e'en  boiling  at  it ; 
but — the  sight  o'  Grace  Armstrong  has  settled  it  brawly." 

'^But  the  stocking,  Hobbie  ?"  said  John  Elliot ;  *^  we're 
utterly  ruined.  Harry  and  I  hae  been  to  gather  what  was  on 
the  outbye  land,  and  there's  scarce  a  cloot  left.  I  kenna  how 
we're  to  carry  on.  We  maun  a'  gang  to  the  wars,  I  think. 
Westburnflat  hasna  the  means,  e'en  if  he  had  the  will,  to  make 
up  our  loss  ;  there's  nae  mends  to  be  got  out  o'  him,  but  what 
ye  take  out  o'  his  banes.  He  hasna  a  four-footed  creature  but 
the  vicious  blood  thing  he  rides  on,  and  that's  sair  trashed  wi^ 
his  night  wark.     We  are  ruined  stoop    id  roop." 

Hobbie  cast  a  mournful  glance  on  Grace  Armstrong,  who 
returned  it  with  a  downcast  look  and  a  gentle  sigh. 

"  Dinna  be  cast  down,  bairns,"  said  the  grandmother, 
"  we  hae  gude  friends  that  winna  forsake  us  in  adversity. 
There's  Sir  Thomas  Kittlecummer  is  my  third  cousin  by  the 
motaer's  side,  and  he  has  come  by  a  hantle  siller,  and  been 
made  a  knight-baronet  into  the  bargain,  for  being  ane  o'  the 
commissioners  at  the  Union." 

"  He  wadna  gie  a  bodle  to  save  us  frae  famishing,"  said 
Hobbie  ;  "and,  if  he  did,  the  bread  that  I  bought  wi't  would 
stick  in  my  throat  when  I  thought  it  was  part  of  the  price  of 
puir  auld  Scotland's  crown  and  independence." 

"There's  the  Laird  o'  Dunder,  ane  o'  the  auldest families 
in  Tiviotdale." 

"  He's  in  the  tolbooth,   mother — he's  in  the  Heart  oi 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  69 

Mid-Lowden  for  a  thousand  merk  lie  borrowed  from  Saunders 
Wyliecoat,  the  writer." 

*' Poor  man!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Elliot,  ''can  we  no  send 
him  something,  Hobbie  ?  " 

''  Ye  forget,  grannie — ye  forget  we  want  help  oursells/' 
said  Hobbie,  somewhat  peevishly. 

''Troth  did  I,  hinny,"  replied  the  good-natured  lady, 
"  just  at  the  instant ;  it's  sae  natural  to  think  on  ane's  bluid 
relations  before  themsells.     But  there's  young  Earnscliff." 

"  He  has  ower  little  o'  his  ain  ;  and  siccan  a  name  to  keep 
up,  it  wad  be  a  shame,"  said  Hobbie,  "to  burden  him  wi'  our 
distress.  And  Til  tell  ye,  grannie,  it's  needless  to  sit  rhym- 
ing ower  the  style  of  a'  your  kith,  kin,  and  allies,  as  if  there 
was  a  charm  in  their  braw  names  to  do  us  good.  The  gran- 
dees hae  forgotten  us,  and  tliose  of  our  ain  degree  hae  just 
little  enough  to  gang  on  wi'  themsells  ;  ne'er  a  friend  hae  we 
that  can  or  will  help  us  to  stock  the  farm  again." 

"Then,  Hobbie,  we  maun  trust  in  Him  that  can  raise  up 
friends  and  fortune  out  o^the  bare  moor,  as  they  say." 

Hobbie  sprang  upon  his  feet.  "Ye  are  right,  grannie  !" 
he  exclaimed — "ye  are  right.  I  do  ken  a  friend  on  the  bare 
moor  that  baith  can  and  will  help  us.  The  turns  o'  this  day 
hae  dung  my  head  clean  bird ie-girdie.  I  left  as  mucklegowd 
lying  on  Mucklestane  Moor  this  morning  as  would  plenish  the 
house  and  stock  the  Heughfoot  twice  ower,  and  I  am  certain 
sure  Elshie  wadna  grudge  us  the  use  of  it.'^ 

"Elshie  !"  said  his  grandmother  in  astonishment ;  "wha< 
Elshie  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  What  Elshie  should  I  mean,  but  Canny  Elshie,  the 
Wight  o' Mucklestane  ?"  replied  Hobbie. 

"  God  forfend,  my  bairn,  you  should  gang  to  fetch  water 
out  o'  broken  cisterns,  or  seek  for  relief  frae  them  that  deal 
wi'  the  Evil  One  !     There  was  never  luck  in  their  gifts  nor 

frace  in  their  paths.  And  the  haill  country  kens  that  body 
llshie's  an  unco  man.  0,  if  there  was  the  law,  and  the  douce 
quiet  administration  of  justice  that  makes  a  kingdom  flourish 
in  righteousness,  the  like  o'  them  suldna  be  suffered  to  live  ! 
The  wizard  and  the  witch  are  the  abomination  and  the  evil 
thing  in  the  land." 

"Troth,  mother,"  answered  Hobbie,  "ye  may  say  what 
ye  like,  but  I  am  in  the  mind  that  witches  and  warlocks 
havena  half  the  power  they  had  lang  syne  ;  at  least,  sure  am 
I  that  ae  ill-deviser,  like  auld  Ellieslaw,  or  ae  ill-doer,  like  that 
d — d  villain  Westburnflat,  is  a  greater  plague  and  abomina- 
tion in  a  countryside  than  a  haill  curnie  o'  the  warst  witches 


70  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  ever  capered  on  a  broomstick  or  played  cantrips  on 
Eastern's  E'en.  It  wad  hae  been  lang  or  Elshie  had  burned 
down  my  house  and  barns,  and  I  am  determined  to  try  if  he 
will  do  aught  to  build  them  up  again.  He's  weel  tend  a 
skilfu'  man  ower  a'  the  country,  as  far  as  Brough-under- 
Stainmore." 

''Bide  a  wee,  my  bairn,''  said  the  anxious  grandmother  ; 
*'  mind  his  benefits  ha  vena  thriven  wi'  a'body.  Jock  Howden 
died  o'  the  very  same  disorder  Elshie  pretended  to  cure  him 
of,  about  the  fa'  o'  the  leaf ;  and  though  he  helped  Lambside's 
cow  weel  out  o'  the  moor-ill,  yet  the  louping  ill's  been  sairer 
amang  his  sheep  than  ony  season  before.  And  then  I  have 
heard  he  uses  sic  words  abusing  human  nature  that's  like  a 
fleeing  in  the  face  of  Providence  ;  and  ye  mind  ye  said  your- 
sell,  the  first  time  ye  ever  saw  him,  that  he  was  mair  like  a 
bogle  than  a  living  thing." 

"Hout,  mother,"  said  Hobbie,  "Elshie's  no  that  bad  a 
chield ;  he's  a  grewsome  spectacle  for  a  crooked  disciple,  to 
be  sure,  and  a  rough  talker,  but  his  bark  is  waur  than  his 
bite.  Sae,  if  I  had  anes  something  to  eat,  for  I  havena  had 
a  morsel  ower  my  throat  this  day,  I  wad  streek  mysell  down 
for  twa  or  three  hours  aside  the  beast,  and  be  on  and  awa'  to 
Mucklestane  wi'  the  first  skreigh  o'  morning." 

"  And  what  for  no  the  night,  Hobbie,"  said  Harry,  "and 
I  will  ride  wi'  ye  ?  " 

"  My  naig  is  tired,"  said  Hobbie. 

*'Ye  may  take  mine,  then,"  said  John. 

**But  I  am  a  wee  thing  wearied  mysell." 

''You  wearied  ?"  said  Harry;  "shame  on  ye !  I  have 
kend  ye  keep  the  saddle  f our-and-twenty  hours  thegither,  and 
ne'er  sic  a  word  as  weariness  in  your  wame." 

"  The  night's  very  dark,"  said  Hobbie,  rising  and  looking 
through  the  casement  of  the  cottage ;  "and,  to  speak  truth 
and  shame  the  deil,  though  Elshie's  a  real  honest  fallow,  yet 
somegate  I  would  rather  tiake  daylight  wi'  me  when  I  gang  to 
visit  him." 

This  frank  avowal  put  a- stop  to  farther  argument ;  and 
Hobbie,  having  thus  compromised  matters  between  the  rash- 
ness of  his  brother's  counsel  and  the  timid  cautions  which  he 
received  from  his  grandmother,  refreshed  himself  with  such 
food  as  the  cottage  afforded  ;  and,  after  a  cordial  salutation 
all  round,  retired  to  the  shed  and  stretched  himself  beside 
his  trusty  palfrey.  His  brothers  shared  between  them  some 
trusses  of  clean  straw,  disposed  in  the  stall  usually  occupied 
by  old  Annaple's  cow ;  and  the  females  arranged  themselves 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  ^  71 

for  repose  as  well  as  the  accommodations  of  the  cottage  would 
permit. 

With  the  first  dawn  of  morning  Hobbie  arose  ;  and,  hav- 
ing rubbed  down  and  saddled  his  horse,  he  set  forth  to 
Mucklestane  Moor.  He  avoided  the  company  of  either  of  his 
brothers,  from  an  idea  that  the  Dwarf  was  most  propitious  to 
those  who  visited  him  alone. 

'^  The  creature,"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  went  along, 
"  is  no  neighborly  ;  ae  body  at  a  time  is  fully  mair  than  he 
weel  can  abide.  I  wonder  if  he^s  looked  out  o^  the  crib  o^  him 
to  gather  up  the  bag  o"*  siller.  If  he  hasna  done  that,  it  may 
hae  been  a  braw  windfa'  for  somebody,  and  I'll  be  finely 
flung.  Come,  Tarras,"*'  said  he  to  his  horse,  striking  him  at 
the  same  time  with  his  spur,  **  make  mair  fit,  man  ;  we  maun 
be  first  on  the  field  if  we  can." 

He  was  now  on  the  heath,  which  began  to  be  illuminated 
by  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun  ;  the  gentle  declivity  which 
he  was  descending  presented  him  a  distinct,  though  distant, 
view  of  the  Dwarf's  dwelling.  The  door  opened,  and  Hobbie 
witnessed  with  his  own  eyes  that  phenomenon  which  he  had 
frequently  heard  mentioned.  Two  human  figures  (if  that  of 
the  Dwarf  could  be  termed  such)  issued  from  the  solitary 
abode  of  the  Recluse,  and  stood  as  if  in  converse  together  in 
the  open  air.  The  taller  form  then  stooped,  as  if  taking 
something  up  which  lay  beside  the  door  of  the  hut,  then 
both  moved  forward  a  little  way,  and  again  halted,  as  in  deep 
conference.  All  Hobble's  superstitious  terrors  revived  on 
witnessing  this  spectacle.  That  the  Dwarf  would  open  his 
dwelling  to  a  mortal  guest  was  as  improbable  as  that  any  one 
would  choose  voluntarily  to  be  his  nocturnal  visitor  ;  and, 
under  full  conviction  that  he  beheld  a  wizard  holding  inter- 
course with  his  familiar  spirit,  Hobbie  pulled  in  at  once  his 
breath  and  his  bridle,  resolved  not  to  incur  the  indignation 
of  either  by  a  hasty  intrusion  on  their  conference.  They  were 
probably  aware  of  his  approach,  for  he  had  not  halted  for  a 
moment  before  the  Dwarf  returned  to  his  cottage  ;  and  the 
taller  figure  who  had  accompanied  him  glided  round  the  in- 
closure  of  the  garden,  and  seemed  to  disappear  from  the  eyes 
of  the  admiring  Hobbie. 

''Saw  ever  mortal  the  like  o'that!"  said  Elliot;  ''but 
my  case  is  desperate,  sae,  if  he  were  Beelzebub  himsell,  Fse 
venture  down  the  brae  on  him." 

Yet,  notwithstanding  his  assumed  courage,  he  slackened 
his  pace  when,  nearly  upon  the  very  spot  where  he  had  last 
seen  the  tall  figure,  he  discerned,  as  if  lurking  among  the 


n  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

long  heather,  a  small  black  rough-looking  object,  like  a  ter- 
rier dog. 

"  He  hasnae  dog  that  ever  I  heard  of,"  said  Hobbie,  "  but 
mony  a  deil  about  his  hand.  Lord  forgie  me  for  saying  sic  a 
word  !  It  keeps  its  grund,  be  what  it  like.  I^m  judging  iVs 
a  badger  ;  but  whae  kens  what  shapes  thae bogles  will  take  to 
fright  a  body  ?  it  will  maybe  start  up  like  a  lion  or  a  crocodile 
when  I  come  nearer.  I^se  e'en  drive  a  stane  at  it,  for  if  it 
change  its  shape  when  Fm  ower  near,  Tarras  will  never  stand 
it ;  and  it  will  be  ower  muckle  to  hae  him  and  the  deil  to  fight 
wi'baith  at  ance.''' 

He  therefore  cautiously  threw  a  stone  at  the  object,  which 
continued  motionless.  **  It's  nae  living  thing,  after  a',''  said 
Hobbie,  approaching,  "but  the  very  bag  o'  siller  he  flung  out 
o'  the  window  yesterday  !  and  that  other  queer  lang  creature 
has  just  brought  it  sae  muckle  farther  on  the  way  to  me." 
He  then  advanced  and  lifted  the  heavy  fur  pouch,  which  was 
quite  full  of  gold.  "Mercy  on  us  !'' said  Hobbie,  whose 
heart  fluttered  between  glee  at  the  revival  of  his  hopes  and 
prospects  in  life  and  suspicion  of  the  purpose  for  which  this 
assistance  was  afforded  him — "mercy  on  us!  it's  an  awfu' 
thing  to  touch  what  has  been  sae  lately  in  the  claws  of  some- 
thing no  canny.  I  canna  shake  mysell  loose  o'  the  belief  that 
there  has  been  some  jookery-paukery  of  Satan's  in  a'  this  ; 
but  I  am  determined  to  conduct  mysell  like  an  honest  man 
and  a  good  Christian,  come  o't  what  will." 

He  advanced  accordingly  to  the  cottage  door,  and  having 
knocked  repeatedly  without  receiving  any  answer,  he  at  length 
elevated  his  voice  and  addressed  the  inmate  of  the  hut. 
^'  Elshie  !  Father  Elshie  !  I  ken  ye're  within  doors,  and 
wauking,  for  I  saw  ye  at  the  door-cheek  as  I  cam  ower  the 
bent ;  will  ye  come  out  and  speak  just  a  gliff  to  ane  that  has 
mony  thanks  to  gie  ye  ?  It  was  a'  true  ye  telled  me  about 
Westburnflat  3  but  he's  sent  back  Grace  safe  and  skaithless, 
sae  there's  nae  ill  happened  yet  but  what  may  be  suffered  or 
sustained.  Wad  ye  but  come  out  a  gliff,  man,  or  but  say 
ye're  listening  ?  Aweel,  since  ye  winna  answer,  I'se  e'en  pro- 
ceed wi'  my  tale.  Ye  see  I  hae  been  thinking  it  wad  be  a  sair 
thin^  on  twa  young  folk,  like  Grace  and  me,  to  put  aff  our 
marriage  for  mony  years  till  I  was  abroad  and  came  back 
again  wi'  some  gear  ;  and  they  say  folk  maunna  take  booty 
in  the  wars  as  they  did  lan^  syne,  and  the  queen's  pay  ia 
a  sma*  matter ;  there's  nae  gathering  gear  on  that ;  and  then 
my  grandame's  auld  ;  and  my  sisters  wad  sit  peengin'  at  the 
ingle-side  for  want  o'  me  to  ding  them  about ;  and  Earnscliff, 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  tB 

or  the  neighborhood/ or  maybe  your  ain  sell,  Elshie,  might 
want  some  good  turn  that  Hob  Elliot  could  do  ye  ;  and  it's  a 
pity  that  the  auld  house  o'  the  Heughfoot  should  be  wrecked 
a'thegither.  Sae  I  was  thinking — but  deil  hae  me,  that  I 
should  say  sae,"  continued  he,  checking  himself,  *'  if  I  can 
bring  mysell  to  ask  a  favor  of  ane  that  winna  sae  muckle  as 
ware  a  word  on  me,  to  tell  me  if  he  hears  me  speaking  till 
him." 

"  Say  what  thou  wilt,  do  what  thou  wilt,"  answered  the 
Dwarf  from  his  cabin,  ^^but  begone,  and  leave  me  at 
peace." 

''Weel,  weel,"  replied  Elliot,  "  since  ye  are  willing  to  hear 
me,  I'se  make  my  tale  short.  Since  ye  are  sae  kind  as  to  say 
ye  are  content  to  lend  me  as  muckle  siller  as  will  stock  and 
plenish  the  Heughfoot,  I  am  content,  on  my  part,  to  accept 
the  courtesy  wi'  mony  kind  thanks  ;  and  troth,  I  think  it  will 
be  as  safe  in  my  hands  as  yours,  if  ye  leave  it  flung  about  in 
that  gate  for  the  first  loon  body  to  lift,  forbye  the  risk  o'  bad 
neighbors  that  can  win  through  steekit  doors  and  lockfast 
places,  as  I  can  tell  to  my  cost.  I  say,  since  ye  hae  sae  muckle 
consideration  for  me,  I'se  be  blithe  to  accept  your  kindness  ; 
and  my  grandmother  and  me — she's  a  life-renter,  and  I  am 
fiar,  o'  the  lands  o'  Wideopen — would  grant  you  a  wadset  or 
an  heritable  bond  for  the  siller,  and  to  pay  the  annual  rent 
half-yearly  ;  and  Saunders  Wyliecoat  to  draw  the  bond,  and 
you  to  be  at  nae  charge  wi'  the  writings." 

''  Cut  short  thy  jargon,  and  begone,"  said  the  Dwarf  ;  *'  thy 
loquacious  bull-headed  honesty  makes  thee  a  more  intolerable 
plague  than  the  light-fingered  courtier  who  would  take  a- 
man's  all  without  troubling  him  with  either  thanks,  explana- 
tion, or  apology.  Hence  I  say  !  thou  art  one  of  those  tame 
slaves  whose  word  is  as  good  as  their  bond.  Keep  the  money, 
principal  and  interest,  until  I  demand  it  of  thee." 

^^But,"  continued  the  pertinacious  Borderer,  '''we  are  a' 
life-like  and  death-like,  Elshie,  and  there  really  should  be 
some  black  and  white  on  this  transaction.  Sae  just  make  me 
a  minute  or  missive  in  ony  form  ye  like,  and  I'se  write  it  fair 
ower,  and  subscribe  it  before  famous  witnesses.  Only,  Elshie, 
I  wad  wuss  ye  to  pit  naething  in't  that  may  be  prejudicial  to 
my  salvation  ;  for  I'll  hae  the  minister  to  read  it  ower,  and  it 
wad  only  be  exposing  yoursell  to  nae  purpose.  And  now  I'm 
ganging  awa',  for  ye'll  be  wearied  o'  my  cracks,  and  I  am 
wearied  wi'  cracking  without  an  answer  ;  and  I'se  bring  ye  a 
bit  o'  bride's-cake  ane  o'  thae  days,  and  maybe  bring  Grace  to 
see  you.     Ye  wad  like  to  see  Grace,  man,  for  as  dour  as  ye 


74  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

are.  Eh,  Lord  !  I  wish  he  may  be  weel,  that  was  a  sair 
grane  !  or  maybe  he  thought  I  was  speaking  of  heavenly  grace, 
and  no  of  Grace  Armstrong.  Poor  man,  I  am  very  doubtfu'  o' 
his  condition  ;  but  I  am  sure  he  is  as  kind  to  me  as  if  I  were 
his  son,  and  a  queer-looking  father  I  wad  hae  had,  if  that  had 
been  e'en  sae." 

Hobbie  now  relieved  his  benefactor  of  his  presence,  and 
rode  blithely  home  to  display  his  treasure,  and  consult  upon 
the  means  of  repairing  the  damage  which  his  fortune  had  sus- 
tained through  the  aggression  of  the  Ked  Keiver  of  West- 
bnrnflat. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Three  ruffians  seized  m'^,  yester  mom, 

Alas  I  a  maiden  most  forlorn  ; 

They  choked  my  cries  with  wicked  might, 

And  bound  me  on  a  palfrey  white  : 

As  sure  as  Heaven  shall  pity  me, 

I  cannot  tell  what  men  they  be. 

Christahel, 

The  course  of  our  story  must  here  revert  a  little  to  detail  the 
circumstances  which  had  placed  Miss  Vere  in  the  unpleasant 
situation  from  which  she  was  unexpectedly,  and  indeed  unin- 
tentionally, liberated  by  the  appearance  of  Earnscliff  and 
Elliot,  with  their  friends  and  followers,  before  the  Tower  of 
Westburnflat. 

On  the  morning  preceding  the  night  in  which  Hobbie's 
house  was  plundered  and  burned,  Miss  Vere  was  requested  by 
her  father  to  accompany  him  in  a  walk  through  a  distant  part 
of  the  romantic  grounds  which  lay  round  his  castle  of  Ellies- 
law.  "  To  hear  was  to  obey,^'  in  the  true  style  of  Oriental 
despotism  ;  but  Isabella  trembled  in  silence  while  she  fol- 
lowed her  father  through  rough  paths,  now  winding  by  the 
side  of  the  river,  now  ascending  the  cliffs  which  serve  for  its 
banks.  A  single  servant,  selected  perhaps  for  his  stupidity, 
was  the  only  person  who  attended  them.  From  her  father's 
silence  Isabella  little  doubted  that  he  had  chosen  this  distant 
and  sequestered  scene  to  resume  the  argument  which  they 
had  so  frequently  maintained  upon  the  subject  of  Sir  Fred- 
erick's addresses,  and  that  he  was  meditating  in  what  manner 
he  should  most  effectually  impress  upon  her  the  necessity  of 
receiving  him  as  her  suitor.  But  her  fears  seemed  for  some 
time  to  be  unfounded.  The  only  sentences  which  her  father 
from  time  to  time  addressed  to  her  respected  the  beauties  of 
the  romantic  landscape  through  which  they  strolled,  and 
which  varied  its  features  at  every  step.  To  these  observa- 
tions, although  they  seemed,  to  come  from  a  heart  occupied 
by  more  gloomy  as  well  as  more  important  cares,  Isabella 
endeavored  to  answer  in  a  manner  as  free  and  unconstrained 
as  it  was  possible  for  her  to  assume,  amid  the  involuntary 
apprehensions  which  crowded  upon  her  imagination. 


76  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sustaining  with  mutual  difficulty  a  desultory  conversation, 
they  at  length  gained  the  centre  of  a  small  wood,  composed  of 
large  oaks,  intermingled  with  birches,  mountain-ashes,  hazel, 
holly,  and  a  variety  of  underwood.  The  boughs  of  the  tall 
trees  met  closely  above,  and  the  underwood  filled  up  each  inter- 
val between  their  trunks  below.  The  spot  on  which  they  stood 
was  rather  more  open  ;  still,  however,  embowered  under  the 
natural  arcade  of  tall  trees,  and  darkened  on  the  sides  foi  a 
space  around  by  a  great  and  lively  growth  of  copsewood  and 
bushes. 

"And  here,  Isabella,"  said  Mr.  Vere,  as  he  pursued  the 
conversation,  so  often  resumed,  so  often  dropped — "here  I 
would  erect  an  altar  to  Friendship." 

"  To  Friendship,  sir  ! "  said  Miss  Vere  ;  "  and  why  on  this 
gloomy  and  sequestered  spot,  rather  than  elsewhere  ?  " 

"0,  the  propriety  of  the  locale  is  easily  vindicated,"  re- 
plied her  father^  with  a  sneer.  "  You  know.  Miss  Vere — for 
you,  I  am  well  aware,  are  a  learned  young  lady — you  know 
that  the  Romans  were  not  satisfied  with  embodying,  for  the 
purpose  of  worship,  each  useful  quality  and  moral  virtue  to 
which  they  could  give  a  name ;  but  they,  moreover,  wor- 
shipped the  same  under  each  variety  of  titles  and  attributes 
which  could  give  a  distinct  shade  or  individual  character 
to  the  virtue  in  question.  Now,  for  example,  the  Friendship 
to  whom  a  temple  should  be  here  dedicated  is  not  Masculine 
Friendship,  which  abhors  and  despises  duplicity,  art,  and 
disguise  ;  but  Female  Friendship,  which  consists  in  little  else 
than  a  mutual  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  friends,  as  they 
call  themselves,  to  abet  each  other  in  obscure  fraud  and  petty 
intrigue." 

"  You  are  severe,  sir,"  said  Miss  Vere. 

"  Only  just,"  said  her  father ;  "a  humble  copier  I  am 
from  nature,  with  the  advantage  of  contemplating  two  such 
excellent  studies  as  Lucy  Ilderton  and  yourself." 

"  If  I  have  been  unfortunate  enough  to  offend,  sir,  I 
can  conscientiously  excuse  Miss  Ilderton  from  being  either 
my  counsellor  or  confidante." 

" Indeed  !  how  came  you,  then,"  said  Mr.  Vere,  "by  the 
flippancy  of  speech  and  pertness  of  argument  by  which  you 
have  disgusted  Sir  Frederick  and  given  me  of  late  such  deep 
offence  ?  " 

"  If  my  manner  has  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  displease 
you,  sir,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  apologize  too  deeply  or  too 
lincerely ;  but  I  cannot  confess  the  same  contrition  for  hav- 
ing answered  Sir  Frederick  flippantly  when  he  pressed  me 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  Tt 

rudely.  Since  he  forgot  I  was  a  lady,  it  was  time  to  show 
him  that  I  am  at  least  a  woman." 

'^  Reserve,  then,  your  pertness  for  those  who  press  you  on 
the  topic,  Isabella,''  said  her  father,  coldly;  "'for  my  part,  I 
am  weary  of  the  subject,  and  will  never  speak  upon  it  again.'^ 

''  God  bless  you,  my  dear  father  \"  said  Isabella,  seizing 
his  reluctant  hand  ;  "there  is  nothing  you  can  impose  on  me, 
save  the  task  of  listening  to  this  man's  persecution,  that  I 
will  call,  or  think,  a  hardship." 

"  You  are  very  obliging,  Miss  Vere,  when  it  happens  to 
suit  you  to  be  dutiful,"said  her  unrelenting  father,  forcing  him- 
self at  the  same  time  from  the  affectionate  grasp  of  her  hand  ; 
*^but  henceforward,  child,  I  shall  save  myself  the  trouble  of 
offering  you  unpleasant  advice  on  any  topic.  You  must  look 
to  yourself." 

At  this  moment  four  ruffians  rushed  upon  them.  Mr. 
Vere  and  his  servant  drew  their  hangers,  which  it  was  the 
fashion  of  the  time  to  wear,  and  attempted  to  defend  them- 
selves and  protect  Isabella.  But  while  each  of  them  was  en- 
gaged by  an  antagonist,  she  was  forced  into  the  thicket  by 
the  two  remaining  villains,  who  placed  her  and  themselves 
on  horses  which  stood  ready  behind  the  copsewood.  They 
mounted  at  the  same  time,  and,  placing  her  between  them, 
set  off  at  a  round  gallop,  holding  the  reins  of  her  horse  on 
each  side.  By  many  an  obscure  and  winding  path,  over  dale 
and  down,  through  moss  and  moor,  she  was  conveyed  to  the 
Tower  of  Westburnflat,  where  she  remained  strictly  watched, 
but  not  otherwise  ill-treated,  under  the  guardianship  of  the 
old  woman  to  whose  son  that  retreat  belonged.  No  entreaties 
could  prevail  upon  the  hag  to  give  Miss  Vere  any  informa- 
tion on  the  object  of  her  being  carried  forcibly  off  and  con- 
fined in  this  secluded  place.  The  arrival  of  Earnscliff  with  a 
strong  party  of  horsemen  before  the  tower  alarmed  the  rob- 
ber. As  he  had  already  directed  Grace  Armstrong  to  be 
restored  to  her  friends,  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  this  un- 
welcome visit  was  on  her  account ;  and  seeing  at  the  head  of 
the  party  Earnscliff,  whose  attachment  to  Miss  Vere  was 
whispered  in  the  country,  he  doubted  not  that  her  liberation 
was  the  sole  object  of  the  attack  upon  his  fastness.  The 
dread  of  personal  consequences  compelled  him  to  deliver  up 
his  prisoner  in  the  manner  we  have  already  related. 

At  the  moment  the  tramp  of  horses  was  heard  which 
carried  off  the  daughter  of  Ellieslaw,  her  father  fell  to  the 
earth,  and  his  servant,  a  stout  young  fellow,  who  was  gaining 
ground  on  the  ruffian  with  whom  he  had  been  engaged,  lef< 


78  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  combat  to  come  to  his  master's  assistance,  little  doubting 
that  he  had  received  a  mortal  wound.  Both  the  villains 
immediately  desisted  from  fartlier  combat,  and,  retreating 
into  the  thicket,  mounted  their  horses  and  went  off  at  full 
speed  after  their  companions.  Meantime,  Dixon  had  the 
satisfaction  to  find  Mr.  Vere  not  only  alive,  but  unwounded. 
He  had  overreached  himself  and  stumbled,  it  seemed,  over 
the  root  of  a  tree  in  making  too  eager  a  blow  at  his  antagonist. 
The  despair  he  felt  at  his  daughter's  disappearance  was,  in 
Dixon's  phrase,  such  as  would  have  melted  the  heart  of  a 
*'  whinstane,"  and  he  was  so  much  exhausted  by  his  feelings, 
and  the  vain  researches  which  he  made  to  discover  the  track 
of  the  ravishers,  that  a  considerable  time  elapsed  ere  he 
reached  home  and  communicated  the  alarm  to  his  domestics. 

All  his  conduct  and  gestures  were  those  of  a  desperate 
man. 

"  Speak  not  to  me.  Sir  Frederick,"  he  said,  impatiently  ; 
''  you  are  no  father  :  she  was  my  child,  an  ungrateful  one,  I 
fear,  but  still  my  child — my  only  child.  Where  is  Miss  Ilder- 
ton  ?  She  must  know  something  of  this.  It  corresponds  with 
what  I  was  informed  of  her  schemes.  Go,  Dixon,  call  Rat- 
cliffe  here.     Let  him  come  without  a  minute's  delay." 

The  person  he  had  named  at  this  moment  entered  the 
room. 

''  I  say,  Dixon,"  continued  Mr.  Vere,  in  an  altered  tone, 
*'  let  Mr.  Ratcliffe  know  I  beg  the  favor  of  his  company  on 
particular  business.  Ah  !  my  dear  sir,"  he  proceeded,  as  if 
noticing  him  for  the  first  time,  *' you  are  the  very  man  whose 
advice  can  be  of  the  utmost  service  to  me  in  this  cruel  ex- 
tremity." 

'^  What  has  happened,  Mr.  Vere,  to  discompose  you  ?" 
said  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  gravely  ;  and  while  the  Laird  of  Ellieslaw 
details  to  him,  with  the  most  animated  gestures  of  grief  and 
indignation,  the  singular  adventure  of  the  morning,  we  shall 
take  the  opportunity  to  inform  our  readers  of  the  relative  cir- 
cumstances in  which  these  gentlemen  stood  to  each  other. 

In  early  youth  Mr.  Vere  of  Ellieslaw  had  been  remarkable 
for  a  career  of  dissipation,  which  in  advanced  life  he  had 
exchanged  for  the  no  less  destructive  career  of  dark  and 
turbulent  ambition.  In  both  cases  he  had  gratified  thepredomi- 
nant  passion  without  respect  to  the  diminution  of  his  private 
fortune,  although,  where  such  inducements  to  profusion  were 
wanting,  he  was  deemed  close,  avaricious,  and  grasping.  His 
affairs  being  much  embarrassed  by  his  earlier  extravagance, 
he  went  to  England,  where  he  was  understood  to  have  formed 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  1% 

a  very  advantageous  matrimonial  connection.  He  was  many 
years  absent  from  his  family  estate.  Suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly he  returned  a  widower,  bringing  with  him  his  daughter, 
then  a  girl  of  about  ten  years  old.  From  this  moment  his 
expense  seemed  unbounded  in  the  eyes  of  the  simple  inhabi- 
tants of  his  native  mountains.  It  was  supposed  he  must  neces- 
sarily have  plunged  himself  deeply  in  debt.  Yet  he  continued 
to  live  in  the  same  lavish  expense  until  some  months  before 
the  commencement  of  our  narrative,  when  the  public  opinion 
of  his  embarrassed  circumstances  was  confirmed  by  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  Ratcliffe  at  Ellieslaw  Castle,  who,  by  the  tacit 
consent,  though  obviously  to  the  great  displeasure,  of  the 
iord  of  the  mansion,  seemed,  from  the  moment  of  his  arrival, 
to  assume  and  exercise  a  predominant  and  unaccountable  in^ 
fluence  in  the  management  of  his  private  affairs. 

Mr.  Ratcliffe  was  a  grave,  steady,  reserved  man,  in  an  ad- 
vanced period  of  life.  To  those  with  whom  he  had  occasion 
to  speak  upon  business  he  appeared  uncommonly  well  versed 
in  all  its  forms.  With  others  he  held  little  communication  ; 
but  in  any  casual  intercourse  or  conversation  displayed  the 
powers  of  an  active  and  well-informed  mind.  For  some  time 
before  taking  up  his  final  residence  at  the  castle,  he  had  been 
an  occasional  visitor  there,  and  was  at  such  times  treated  by 
Mr.  Vere  (contrary  to  his  general  practice  towards  those  who 
were  inferior  to  him  in  rank)  with  marked  attention,  and 
even  deference.  Yet  his  arrival  always  appeared  to  be  an 
embarrassment  to  his  host  and  his  departure  a  relief ;  so  that, 
when  he  became  a  constant  inmate  of  the  family,  it  was  im- 
possible not  to  observe  indications  of  the  displeasure  with 
which  Mr.  Vere  regarded  his  presence.  Indeed,  their  inter- 
course formed  a  singular  mixture  of  confidence  and  constraint. 
Mr.  Vere's  most  important  affairs  were  regulated  by  Mr.  Eat- 
cliffe  ;  and,  although  he  was  none  of  those  indulgent  men  of 
fortune  who,  too  indolent  to  manage  their  own  business,  are 
glad  to  devolve  it  upon  another,  yet  in  many  instances  he  was 
observed  to  give  up  his  own  judgment  and  submit  to  the  con- 
trary opinions  which  Mr.  Ratcliffe  did  not  hesitate  distinctly 
to  express. 

Nothing  seemed  to  vex  Mr.  Vere  more  than  when 
strangers  indicated  any  observation  of  the  state  of  tutelage 
under  which  he  appeared  to  labor.  When  it  was  noticed  by 
Sir  Frederick  or  any  of  his  intimates,  he  sometimes  repelled 
their  remarks  haughtily  and  indignantly,  and  sometimes  en- 
deavored to  evade  them  by  saying,  with  a  forced  laugh^ 
^*  That  Ratcliffe  knew  his  own  importance,  but  that  he  wag 


go  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  most  honest  and  skilful  fellow  in  the  world ;  and  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  him  to  manage  his  English  affairs 
without  his  advice  and  assistance/^  Such  was  the  person  who 
entered  the  room  at  the  moment  Mr.  Vere  was  summoning 
him  to  his  presence,  and  who  now  heard  with  surprise, 
mingled  with  obvious  incredulity,  the  hasty  narrative  of  what 
had  befallen  Isabella. 

Her  father  concluded,  addressing  Sir  Frederick  and  the 
other  gentlemen,  who  stood  around  in  astonishment,  *'  And 
now,  my  friends,  you  see  the  most  unhappy  father  in  Scot- 
land. Lend  me  your  assistance,  gentlemen  ;  give  me  your 
advice,  Mr.  Ratcliffe.  I  am  incapable  of  acting  or  thinking 
under  the  unexpected  violence  of  such  a  blow.'^ 

"  Let  us  take  our  horses,  call  our  attendants,  and  scour 
the  country  in  pursuit  of  the  villains,^'  said  Sir  Frederick. 

''  Is  there  no  one  whom  you  can  suspect,  ^^  said  Ratcliffe, 
gravely,  '^  of  having  some  motive  for  this  strange  crime  ? 
These  are  not  the  days  of  romance,  when  ladies  are  carried 
off  merely  for  their  beauty.  ^^ 

'^  I  fear,''  said  Mr.  Vere,  '"^  I  can  too  well  account  for  this 
strange  incident.  Eead  this  letter,  which  Miss  Lucy  Ilder- 
ton  thought  fit  to  address  from  my  house  of  Ellieslaw  to 
young  Mr.  Earnscliff,  whom,  of  all  men,  I  have  a  hereditary 
right  to  call  my  enemy.  You  see  she  writes  to  him  as  the 
confidante  of  a  passion  which  he  has  the  assurance  to  enter- 
tain for  my  daughter  ;  tells  him  she  serves  his  cause  with 
her  friend  very  ardently,  but  that  he  has  a  friend  in  the  gar- 
rison who  serves  him  yet  more  effectually.  Look  particu- 
larly at  the  pencilled  passages,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  where  this 
meddling  girl  recommends  bold  measures,  with  an  assurance 
that  his  suit  would  be  successful  any  where  beyond  the  bounds 
of  the  barony  of  Ellieslaw.'' 

''  And  you  argue,  from  this  romantic  letter  of  a  very  ro- 
mantic young  lady,  Mr.  Vere,"  said  Eatcliffe,  "  that  young 
Earnscliff  has  carried  off  your  daughter,  and  committed  a 
very  great  and  criminal  act  of  violence,  on  no  better  advice 
and  assurance  than  that  of  Miss  Lucy  Ilderton  ?" 

"  What  else  can  I  think  ?  "  said  Ellieslaw. 

"  What  else  can  you  think?"  said  Sir  Frederick;  ''or 
who  else  could  have  any  motive  for  committing  such  a  crime  ?  " 

''  Were  that  the  best  mode  of  fixing  the  guilt,"  said  Mr. 
Ratcliffe,  calmly,  *'  there  might  easily  be  pointed  out  per- 
sons to  whom  such  actions  are  more  congenial,  and  who  have 
also  sufficient  motives  of  instigation.  Supposing  it  were 
judged  advisiible  to  remove  Miss  Vere  to  some  place  in  which 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  8t 

constraint  might  be  exercised  upon  her  inclinations  to  a 
degree  which  cannot  at  present  be  attempted  under  the  roof 
of  Ellieslaw  Castle  ?  What  says  Sir  Frederick  Langley  to 
that  supposition  ?  " 

'^1  say/"*  returned  Sir  Frederick,  ^'^that,  although  Mr. 
Vere  may  choose  to  endure  in  Mr.  Ratclifle  freedoms  totally 
inconsistent  with  his  situation  in  life,  I  will  not  permit  such 
license  of  innuendo,  by  word  or  look,  to  be  extended  to  me 
with  impunity/^ 

*'  And  I  say,"  said  young  Mareschal  of  Mareschax  Wells, 
who  was  also  a  guest  at  the  castle,  **  that  you  are  all  stark 
mad  to  be  standing  wrangling  here,  instead  of  going  in  pur- 
suit of  the  ruffians." 

"I  have  ordered  off  the  domestics  already  in  the  track 
most  likely  to  overtake  them,"  said  Mr.  Vere  ;  **  if  you  will 
favor  me  with  your  company,  we  will  follow  them  and  assist 
in  the  search." 

The  efforts  of  the  party  were  totally  unsuccessful,  prob- 
ably because  Ellieslaw  directed  the  pursuit  to  proceed  in  the 
direction  of  Earnscliff  Tower,  under  the  supposition  that 
the  owner  would  prove  to  be  the  author  of  the  violence,  so 
that  they  followed  a  direction  diametrically  opposite  to  that 
in  which  the  ruffians  had  actually  proceeded.  In  the  evening 
they  returned  harassed  and  out  of  spirits.  But  other  guesfi 
had  in  the  mean  while  arrived  at  the  castle  ;  and  after  the 
recent  loss  sustained  by  the  owner  had  been  related,  won- 
dered at,  and  lamented,  the  recollection  of  it  was,  for  the 
present,  drowned  in  the  discussion  of  deep  political  intrigues, 
of  which  the  crisis  and  explosion  were  momentarily  looked 
for. 

Several  of  the  gentlemen  who  took  part  in  this  divan 
were  Catholics,  and  all  of  them  stanch  Jacobites,  whose  hopes 
were  at  present  at  the  highest  pitch,  as  an  invasion  in  favor 
of  the  Pretender  was  daily  expected  from  France,  which  Scot- 
land, between  the  defenceless  state  of  its  garrisons  and  forti- 
fied places  and  the  general  disaffection  of  the  inhabitants, 
was  rather  prepared  to  welcome  than  to  resist.  Ratcliffe, 
who  neither  sought  to  assist  at  their  consultations  on  this 
subject  nor  was  invited  to  do  so,  had  in  the  mean  while  re- 
tired to  his  own  apartment.  Miss  Ilderton  was  sequestered 
from  society  in  a  sort  of  honorable  confinement,  *' until," 
said  Mr.  Vere,  "  she  should  be  safely  conveyed  home  to  her 
father's  house,"  an  opportunity  for  which  occurred  on  the 
following  day. 

The  domestics  could  not  help  thinking  it  remarkable  how 


88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

soon  the  loss  of  Miss  Vere,  and  the  strange  manner  in  which 
it  had  happened,  seemed  to  be  forgotten  by  the  other  guests 
at  the  castle.  They  knew  not  that  those  the  most  interested 
in  her  fate  were  well  acquainted  with  the  cause  of  her  being 
carried  off,  and  the  place  of  her  retreat ;  and  that  the  others, 
in  the  anxious  and  doubtful  moments  which  preceded  the 
breaking  forth  of  a  conspiracy,  were  little  accessible  to  any 
feelings  but  what  arose  immediately  out  of  their  own  mach- 
inations. 


CHAPTER  XII 

Some  one  way,  some  another.    Do  you  know- 
Where  we  may  apprehend  her  ? 

The  researches  after  Miss  Vere  were  (for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ances, perhaps)  resumed  on  the  succeeding  day,  with  similar 
bad  success,  and  the  party  were  returning  towards  Ellieslaw  in 
the  evening. 

'^  It  is  singular,"  said  Mareschal  to  Ratcliffe,  "  that  four 
horsemen  and  a  female  prisoner  should  have  passed  through  the 
country  without  leaving  the  slightest  trace  of  their  passage. 
One  would  think  they  had  traversed  the  air  or  sunk  through 
the  ground." 

''Men  may  often,"  answered  Ratcliffe,  ''arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  that  which  is  from  discovering  that  which  is  not. 
We  have  now  scoured  every  road,  path,  and  track  leading 
from  the  castle,  in  all  the  various  points  of  the  compass,  sav- 
ing only  that  intricate  and  difficult  pass  which  leads  south- 
ward down  the  Westburn  and  through  the  morasses." 

"And  why  have  we  not  examined  that  ?"  said  Mareschal. 

"  0,  Mr.  Vere  can  best  answer  that  question,"  replied  his 
companion,  dryly. 

"  Then  I  will  ask  it  instantly,"  said  Mareschal ;  and  ad- 
dressing Mr.  Vere,  "  I  am  informed,  sir,"  said  he,  "  there  is 
a  path  we  have  not  examined,  leading  by  Westburnflat." 

"  0,"  said  Sir  Frederick,  laughing,  "  we  know  the  owner 
of  Westburnflat  well — a  wild  lad,  that  knows  little  difference 
between  his  neighbor's  goods  and  his  own  ;  but,  withal,  very 
honest  to  his  principles.  He  would  disturb  nothing  belong- 
ing to  Ellieslaw." 

"  Besides,"  said  Mr.  Vere,  smiling  mysteriously,  "he had 
other  tow  on  his  distaff  last  night.  Have  you  not  heard  young 
Elliot  of  the  Heughf  oot  has  had  his  house  bumod  and  his  cat- 
tle driven  away,  because  he  refused  to  give  up  his  arms  to  some 
honest  men  that  think  of  starting  for  the  king  ?  " 

The  company  smiled  upon  each  other,  as  at  hearing  of  an 
exploit  which  favored  their  own  views. 

"Yet,  nevertheless,"  resumed  Mareschal,  "I  think  we 


84  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ought  to  ride  in  this  direction  also,  otherwise  we  shall  cer- 
tainly be  blamed  for  our  negligence." 

No  reasonable  objection  could  be  offered  to  this  proposal, 
and  the  party  turned  their  horses'  heads  towards  Westburn- 
flat. 

They  had  not  proceeded  very  far  in  that  direction  when 
the  trampling  of  horses  was  heard,  and  a  small  body  of  riders 
were  perceived  advancing  to  meet  them. 

"There  comes  EarnsclifE,"  said  Mareschal;  "I  know  his 
bright  bay  with  the  star  in  his  front.'' 

''And  there  is  my  daughter  along  with  him,'' exclaimed 
Vere,  furiously.  "  Who  shall  call  my  suspicions  false  or  in- 
jurious now  ?  Gentlemen,  friends,  lend  me  the  assistance  of 
your  swords  for  the  recovery  of  my  child." 

He  unsheathed  his  weapon,  and  was  imitated  by  Sir  Fred- 
erick and  several  of  the  party,  who  prepared  to  charge  those 
that  were  advancing  towards  them.  But  the  greater  part 
hesitated. 

''  They  come  to  ns  in  all  peace  and  security,"  said  Mare- 
schal Wells  ;  "let  us  first  hear  what  account  they  give  us  of 
this  mysterious  affair.  If  Miss  Vere  has  sustained  the  slight- 
est insult  or  injury  from  Earnscliff,  I  will  be  first  to  revenge 
her ;  but  let  us  hear  what  they  say." 

"  You  do  me  wrong  by  your  suspicions,  Mareschal,"  con- 
tinued Vere  ;  "you  are  the  last  I  would  have  expected  to  hear 
express  them." 

"You  injure  yourself,  Ellieslaw,  by  your  violence,  though 
the  cause  may  excuse  it." 

He  then  advanced  a  little  before  the  rest,  and  called  out 
with  a  loud  voice — "  Stand,  Mr.  Earnscliff;  or  do  you  and 
Miss  Vere  advance  alone  to  meet  us.  You  are  charged  with 
having  carried  that  lady  off  from  her  father's  house  ;  and  we 
are  here  in  arms  to  shed  our  best  blood  for  her  recovery,  and 
for  bringing  to  justice  those  who  have  injured  her." 

"  And  who  would  do  that  more  willingly  than  I,  Mr. 
Mareschal?"  said  Earnscliff,  haughtily — "than  I,  who  had 
the  satisfaction  this  morning  to  liberate  her  from  the  dungeon 
in  which  I  found  her  confined,  and  who  am  now  escorting  her 
back  to  the  Castle  of  Ellieslaw  ?" 

"Is  this  so.  Miss  Vere  ?"  said  Mareschal. 

*'  It  is,"  answered  Isabella,  eagerly — "  it  is  so ;  for  Heaven's, 
sake,  sheathe  your  swords.  I  will  swear  by  all  tliat  is  sacred 
that  I  was  carried  off  by  ruffians,  whoso  persons  and  object 
were  alike  unknown  to  me,  and  am  now  restored  to  freedom 
by  metins  of  this  gentleman's  gallant  interference." 


I 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  85 

"  By  whom,  and  wherefore,  could  this  have  been  done  ?  *' 
pursued  Mareschal.  "  Had  you  no  knowledge  of  the  place  to 
which  you  were  conveyed  ?  Earnscliff,  where  did  you  find  this 
lady?" 

But  ere  either  question  could  be  answered  Ellieslaw  ad- 
vanced and,  returning  his  sword  to  the  scabbard,  cut  short  the 
conference. 

"  When  I  know,"  he  said,  ''  exactly  how  much  I  owe  to 
Mr.  Earnscliff,  he  may  rely  on  suitable  acknowledgments ; 
meantime,"  taking  the  bridle  of  MissVere^s  horse,  ''thus far 
I  thank  him  for  replacing  my  daughter  in  the  power  of  her 
natural  guardian." 

A  sullen  bend  of  the  head  was  returned  by  Eamscliff  with 
equal  haughtiness ;  and  Ellieslaw,  turning  back  with  his 
daughter  upon  the  road  to  his  own  house,  appeared  engaged 
with  her  in  a  conference  so  earnest  that  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany judged  it  improper  to  intrude  by  approaching  them  too 
nearly.  In  the  mean  time  Eamscliff,  as  he  took  leave  of  the 
other  gentlemen  belonging  to  Ellieslaw's  party,  said  aloud, 
''Although  I  am  unconscious  of  any  circumstance  in  my  con- 
duct that  can  authorize  such  a  suspicion,  I  cannot  but  observe 
that  Mr.  Vere  seems  to  believe  that  I  have  had  seme  hand  in 
the  atrocious  violence  which  has  been  offered  to  his  daughter. 
I  request  you,  gentlemen,  to  take  notice  of  my  explicit  denial 
of  a  charge  so  dishonorable,  and  that,  although  I  can  pardon 
the  bewildering  feelings  of  a  father  in  such  a  moment,  yet,  if 
any  other  gentleman  [he  looked  hard  at  Sir  Frederick 
Langley]  thinks  my  word  and  that  of  Miss  Vere,  with  the 
evidence  of  my  friends  who  accompany  me,  too  slight  for  my 
exculpation,  I  will  be  happy,  most  happy,  to  repel  the  charge 
as  becomes  a  man  who  counts  his  honor  dearer  than  his  life." 

"And  ril  be  his  second,"  said  Simon  of  Hackburn,  "and 
take  up  ony  twa  o'  ye,  gentle  or  semple,  laird  or  loon  ;  it's  a' 
ane  to  Simon." 

"  Who  is  that  rough-looking  fellow  ?  "  said  Sir  Frederick 
Langley,  "  and  what  has  he  to  do  with  the  quarrels  of  gentle- 
men ?  " 

"  Fse  be  a  lad  frae  the  Hie  Te'iot,"  said  Simon,  "  and 
I'se  quarrel  wi'  onybody  I  like,  except  the  king  or  the  laird 
Hive  under." 

"Come,"  said  Mareschal,  "let  us  have  no  brawls.  Mr. 
Earnscliff,  although  we  do  not  think  alike  in  some  things,  I 
trust  we  may  be  opponents,  even  enemies,  if  fortune  will 
have  it  so,  without  losing  our  respect  for  birth,  fair-play, 
and  each  other.     I  believe  you  as  innocent  of  this  matter  as 


9$  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  am  myself  ;  and  I  will  pledge  myself  that  my  cousm  Ellies- 
^w,  as  soon  as  the  perplexity  attending  these  sudden  events 
has  left  his  judgment  to  its  free  exercise,  shall  handsomely 
acknowledge  the  very  important  service  you  have  this  day 
rendered  him/' 

''To  have  served  your  cousin  is  a  sufficient  reward  in 
itself.  Good-evening,  gentlemen,'*  continued  Earnscliff,  "  I 
see  most  of  your  party  are  already  on  their  way  toEllieslaw.'' 

Then  saluting  Mareschal  with  courtesy  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  with  indifference,  Earnscliff  turned  his  horse  and  rode 
towards  the  Heughfoot,  to  concert  measures  with  Hobbie 
Elliot  for  farther  researches  after  his  bride,  of  whose  restora- 
tion to  her  friends  he  was  still  ignorant. 

''There  he  goes,''  said  Mareschal  ;  "he  is  a  fine,  gallant 
young  fellow,  upon  my  soul  ;  and  yet  I  should  like  well  to 
have  a  thrust  with  him  on  the  green  turf.  I  was  reckoned 
at  college  nearly  his  equal  with  the  foils,  and  I  should  like 
to  try  him  at  sharps  in  a  gentleman-like  way." 

"  In  my  opinion,"  answered  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  "  we 
have  done  very  ill  in  having  suffered  him  and  those  men  who 
are  with  him  to  go  off  without  taking  away  their  arms  ;  for 
the  Whigs  are  very  likely  to  draw  to  a  head  under  such  a 
sprightly  young  fellow  as  that." 

"  For  shame.  Sir  Frederick  !  "  exclaimed  Mareschal.  "  Do 
you  think  that  Ellieslaw  could  in  honor  consent  to  any 
violence  being  offered  to  Earnscliff,  when  he  entered  his 
bounds  only  to  bring  back  his  daughter  ?  or,  if  he  were  to  be 
of  your  opinion,  do  you  think  that  I,  and  the  rest  of  these 
gentlemen,  would  disgrace  ourselves  by  assisting  in  such  a 
transaction  ?  No,  no,  fair  play  and  auld  Scotland  forever  ! 
When  the  sword  is  drawn  I  will  be  as  ready  to  use  it  as  any 
man  ;  but  while  it  is  in  the  sheath  let  us  behave  like  gentle- 
men and  neighbors." 

Soon  after  this  colloquy  they  reached  the  castle,  when 
Ellieslaw,  who  had  been  arrived  a  few  minutes  before,  met 
them  in  the  courtyard. 

"  How  is  Miss  Vere  ?  and  have  you  learned  the  cause  of 
her  being  carried  off  ?  "  asked  Mareschal,  hastily. 

"  She  is  retired  to  her  apartment  greatly  fatigued  ;  and  I 
cannot  expect  much  light  upon  her  adventure  till  her  spirits 
are  somewhat  recruited,"  replied  her  father.  "  She  and  I 
were  not  the  less  obliged  to  you,  Mareschal,  and  to  my  other 
friends,  for  their  kind  inquiries.  But  I  must  suppress  the 
father's  feelings  for  a  while  to  give  myself  up  to  those  of  the 
patriot.     You  know  this  is  the  day  fixed  for  our  final  decision  { 


I 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  87 

time  presses,  our  friends  are  arriving,  and  I  have  opened  house 
not  only  for  the  gentry,  but  for  the  under  spur-leathers  whom 
we  must  necessarily  employ.  We  have,  therefore,  little 
time  to  prepare  to  meet  them.  Look  over  these  lists,  Marchie 
[an  abbreviation  by  which  Mareschal  Wells  was  known  among 
his  friends] .  Do  you.  Sir  Frederick,  read  these  letters  from 
Lothian  and  the  west ;  all  is  ripe  for  the  sickle,  and  we  have 
but  to  summon  out  the  reapers." 

'^  With  all  my  heart,"  said  Mareschal ;  ''  the  more  mis- 
chief the  better  sport." 

Sir  Frederick  looked  grave  and, disconcerted. 

"  Walk  aside  with  me,  my  good  friend,"  said  Ellieslaw  to 
the  sombre  baronet  ;  ''I  have  something  for  your  private 
ear,  with  which  I  know  you  will  be  gratified." 

They  walked  into  the  house,  leaving  Ratcliffe  and  Mare- 
schal standing  together  in  the  court. 

''  And  so,"  said  Ratcliffe,  "  the  gentlemen  of  your  politi- 
cal persuasion  think  the  downfall  of  this  government  so 
certain  that  they  disdain  even  to  throw  a  decent  disguise  over 
the  machinations  of  their  party  ?" 

"Faith,  Mr.  Ratcliffe," answered  Mareschal,  "the  actions 
and  sentiments  of  your  friends  may  require  to  be  veiled,  but 
I  am  better  pleased  that  ours  can  go  bare-faced." 

"  And  is  it  possible,"  continued  Ratcliffe,"  that  you,  who, 
notwithstanding  your  thoughtlessness  and  heat  of  temper — 
I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Mareschal,  I  am  a  plain  man — that  you, 
who,  notwithstanding  these  constitutional  defects,  possess 
natural  good  sense  and  acquired  information,  should  be  in- 
fatuated enough  to  embroil  yourself  in  such  desperate  pro- 
ceedings ?  How  does  your  head  feel  when  you  are  engaged 
in  these  dangerous  conferences  ?" 

"Not  quite  so  secure  on  my  shoulders,"  answered  Mare- 
schal, "as  if  I  were  talking  of  hunting  and  hawking.  I  am 
not  of  so  indifferent  a  mould  as  my  cousin  Ellieslaw,  who 
speaks  treason  as  if  it  were  a  child's  nursery  rhymes,  and 
loses  and  recovers  that  sweet  girl,  his  daughter,  with  a  good 
deal  less  emotion  on  both  occasions  than  would  have  affected 
me  had  I  lost  and  recovered  a  greyhound  puppy.  My  temper 
is  not  quite  so  inflexible,  nor  my  hate  against  government 
so  inveterate,  as  to  blind  me  to  the  full  danger  of  the 
attempt." 

"  Then  why  involve  yourself  in  it  ?  "  said  Ratcliffe. 

"  Why,  I  love  this  poor  exiled  king  with  all  my  heart ; 
and  my  father  was  an  old  Killiecrankie  man,  and  I  long  to 
see  some  amends  on  the  Unionists  and  courtiers  that  have 


86  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bought  and  sold  old  Scotland,  whose  crown  has  been  so  long 
independent/' 

"  And  for  the  sake  of  these  shadows/'  said  his  monitor, 
*'  you  are  going  to  involve  your  country  in  war  and  yourself 
in  trouble  ?  " 

**  /  involve  ?  No  !  but,  trouble  for  trouble,  I  had  rather 
it  came  to-morrow  than  a  month  hence.  Come,  I  know  it 
will ;  and,  as  your  country  folks  say,  better  soon  than  syne, 
it  will  never  find  me  younger  ;  and  as  for  hanging,  as  Sir 
John  Falstaff  says,  ^I  can  become  a  gallows  as  well  as 
another. '     You  know  the  end  of  the  old  ballad  ?  * 

*'  'Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly, 
Sae  dauntingly  gaed  he. 
He  play'd  a  spring  and  danced  it  round, 
Below  the  gallows  tree.'  " 

"  Mr.  Mareschal,  I  am  sorry  for  you,''  said  his  grave  ad- 
viser. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Ratcliffe ;  but  I  would  not 
have  you  judge  of  our  enterprise  by  my  way  of  vindicating  it ; 
there  are  wiser  heads  than  mine  at  the  work." 

"  Wiser  heads  than  yours  may  lie  as  low,"  said  Ratcliffe, 
in  a  warning  tone. 

"  Perhaps  so  ;  but  no  lighter  heart  shall ;  and,  to  prevent 
it  being  made  heavier  by  your  remonstrances,  I  will  bid  you 
adieu,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  till  dinner-time,  when  you  shall  see  that 
my  apprehensions  have  not  spoiled  my  appetite." 

*  See  Macpherson's  Rant.    Not*  8. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion 
With  some  fine  color,  that  may  please  the  eye 
Of  fickle  changelings  and  poor  discontents, 
Which  gape  and  rub  the  elbow  at  the  news 
Of  hurlyburly  innovation. 

Henry  IV.,  Part  H. 

There  nad  been  great  preparations  made  at  EUieslaw  Castle 
for  the  entertainment  on  this  important  day,  when  not  only 
the  gentlemen  of  note  in  the  neighborhood  attached  to  the 
Jacobite  interest  were  expected  to  rendezvous,  but  also  many 
subordinate  malcontents,  whom  difficulty  of  circumstances,, 
love  of  change,  resentment  against  England,  or  any  of  the 
numerous  causes  Avhich  inflamed  men's  passions  at  the  time, 
rendered  apt  to  join  in  perilous  enterprise.  The  men  of  rank 
and  substance  were  not  many  in  number ;  for  almost  all  the 
large  proprietors  stood  aloof,  and  most  of  the  smaller  gentry 
and  yeomanry  were  of  the  Presbyterian  persuasion,  and  there- 
fore, however  displeased  with  the  Union,  unwilling  to  engage 
in  a  Jacobite  conspiracy.  But  there  were  some  gentlemen  of 
property  who,  either  from  early  principle,  from  religious  mo- 
tives, or  sharing  the  ambitious  views  of  EUieslaw,  had  given 
countenance  to  his  scheme ;  and  there  were  also  some  young 
fiery  men,  like  Mareschal,  desirous  of  signalizing  themselves 
by  engaging  in  a  dangerous  enterprise,  by  which  they  hoped 
to  vindicate  the  independence  of  their  country.  The  other 
members  of  the  party  were  persons  of  inferior  rank  and  des- 
perate fortunes,  who  were  now  ready  to  rise  in  that  part  of 
the  country,  as  they  did  afterwards  in  the  year  1715,  under 
Eorster  and  Dervventwater,  when  a  troop,  commanded  by  a 
Border  gentleman  named  Douglas,  consisted  almost  entirely 
of  freebooters,  among  whom  the  notorious  Luck-in-a-Bag,* 
as  he  was  called,  held  a  distinguished  command.  We  think 
it  necessary  to  mention  these  particulars,  applicable  solely  to 
the  province  in  which  our  scene  lies  ;  because,  unquestiona- 
bly, the  Jacobite  party  in  the  otlier  parts  of  the  kingdom 
consisted  of  much  more  formidable,  as  weU  as  much  more  re- 
spectable, materials 

*  See  Not©  9 


»  I 


90  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

One  long  table  extended  itself  down  the  ample  hall  of 
Ellieslaw  Castle,  which  was  still  left  much  in  the  state  in 
which  it  had  been  one  hundred  years  before,  stretching,  that 
is,  in  gloomy  length  along  the  whole  side  of  the  castle,  vaulted 
with  ribbed  arches  of  freestone,  the  groins  of  which  sprang 
from  projecting  figures,  that,  carved  into  all  the  wild  forms 
which  the  fantastic  imagination  of  a  Gothic  architect  could 
devise,  grinned,  frowned,  and  gnashed  their  tusks  at  the  as- 
sembly below.  Long  narrow  windows  lighted  the  banqueting- 
room  on  both  sides,  filled  up  with  stained  glass,  through 
which  the  sun  emitted  a  dusky  and  discolored  light.  A  ban- 
ner which  tradition  averred  to  have  been  taken  from  the 
English  at  the  battle  of  Sark  waved  over  the  chair  in  which 
Ellieslaw  presided,  as  if  to  inflame  the  courage  of  the  guests 
by  re  ninding  them  of  ancient  victories  over  their  neighbors. 
He  himself,  a  portly  figure,  dressed  on  this  occasion  with  un- 
common care,  and  with  features  which,  though  of  a  stern  and 
sinister  expression,  might  well  be  termed  handsome,  looked 
the  old  feudal  baron  extremely  well.  Sir  Frederick  Langley 
was  placed  on  his  right  hand,  and  Mr.  Mareschal  of  Mareschal 
Wells  on  his  left.  Some  gentlemen  of  consideration,  with 
their  sons;  brothers,  and  nephews,  were  seated  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  table,  and  among  these  Mr.  Ratcliffe  had  his  place. 
Beneath  the  salt-cellar  (a  massive  piece  of  plate  which  occu- 
pied the  midst  of  the  table)  sat  the  sine  nomine  turba,  men 
whose  vanity  was  gratified  by  holding  even  this  subordinate 
space  at  the  social  board,  while  the  distinction  observed  in 
ranking  them  was  a  salvo  to  the  pride  of  their  superiors. 
That  the  lower  house  was  not  very  select  must  be  admitted, 
since  Willie  of  Westburnflat  was  one  of  the  party.  The  un- 
abashed audacity  of  this  fellow,  in  daring  to  present  himself 
in  the  house  of  a  gentleman  to  whom  he  had  just  offered  so 
flagrctnt  an  insult,  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  supposing 
him  conscious  that  his  share  in  carrying  off  Miss  Vere  was  a 
secret  safe  in  her  possession  and  that  of  her  father. 

Before  this  numerous  and  miscellaneous  party  was  placed 
a  dinner,  consisting,  not  indeed  of  the  delicacies  of  the  season, 
as  the  newspapers  express  it,  but  of  viands  ample,  solid,  and 
sumptuous,  under  which  the  very  board  groaned.  But  the 
mirth  was  not  in  proportion  to  the  good  cheer.  The  guests 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  table  were  for  some  time  chilled  by 
constraint  and  respect  on  finding  themselves  members  of  so 
august  an  assembly ;  and  were  impressed  with  those  feelings 
of  awe  by  which  P.  P.,  clerk  of  the  parish,  describes  himself 
as  overwhelmed  when  he  first  uplifted  the  psalm  in  presence 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  M 

of  those  persons  of  high  worship,  the  wise  Mr.  Justice  Free- 
man, the  good  Lady  Jones,  and  the  great  Sir  Thomas  Truby. 
This  ceremonious  frost,  however,  soon  gave  way  before  the 
incentives  to  merriment,  which  were  liberally  supplied,  and 
as  liberally  consumed  by  the  guests  of  the  lower  description. 
They  became  talkative,  loud,  and  even  clamorous  in  their 
mirth. 

But  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  wine  or  brandy  to  elevate 
the  spirits  of  those  who  held  the  higher  places  at  the  banquet. 
They  experienced  the  chilling  revulsion  of  spirits  which  often 
takes  place  when  men  are  called  upon  to  take  a  desperate 
resolution,  after  having  placed  themselves  in  circumstances 
where  it  is  alike  difficult  to  advance  or  to  recede.  The  preci- 
pice looked  deeper  and  more  dangerous  as  they  approached 
the  brink,  and  each  waited  with  an  inward  emotion  of  awe, 
expecting  which  of  his  confederates  would  set  the  example 
by  plunging  himself  down.  This  inward  sensation  of  fear 
and  reluctance  acted  differently,  according  to  the  various 
habits  and  characters  of  the  company.  One  looked  grave  ; 
another  looked  silly  ;  a  third  gazed  with  apprehension  on  the 
empty  seats  at  the  higher  end  of  the  table,  designed  for  mem- 
bers of  the  conspiracy  whose  pnidence  had  prevailed  over 
their  political  zeal,  and  who  had  absented  themselves  from 
their  consultations  at  this  critical  period ;  and  some  seemed  to  be 
reckoning  up  in  their  minds  the  comparative  rank  and  pros- 
pects of  those  who  were  present  and  absent.  Sir  Frederick 
Langley  was  reserved,  moody,  and  discontented.  Ellieslaw 
himself  made  such  forced  efforts  to  raise  the  spirits  of  the 
company  as  plainly  marked  the  flagging  of  his  own.  Ratcliffe 
watched  the  scene  with  the  composure  of  a  vigilant  but  un- 
interested spectator.  Mareschal  alone,  true  to  the  thought- 
less vivacity  of  his  character,  ate  and  drank,  laughed  and 
jested,  and  seemed  even  to  find  amusement  in  the  embarrass- 
ment of  the  company. 

''What  has  damped  our  noble  courage  this  morning  ?"  he 
exclaimed.  "  We  seem  to  be  met  at  a  funeral,  where  the  chief 
mourners  must  not  speak  above  their  breath,  while  the  mutes 
and  the  saulies  [looking  to  the  lower  end  of  the  table]  are 
carousing  below.  Ellieslaw,  when  will  you  lift  9  where  sleeps 
your  spirit,  man  ?  and  what  has  quelled  the  high  hope  of  the 
knight  of  Langley  Dale  ?  " 

"  You  speak  like  a  madman, ''said  Ellieslaw ;  "  do  you  not 
see  how  many  are  absent  ?'' 

''And  what  of  that  ?'' said  Mareschal.  "Did  you  not 
know  before  that  one-half  of  the  world  are  better  talkers  than 


9d  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

doers  ?  For  my  part,  I  am  much  encouraged  by  seeing  at 
least  two-thirds  of  our  friends  true  to  the  rendezvous,  though 
I  suspect  one-half  of  these  came  to  secure  the  dinner  in  case 
of  the  worst." 

"  There  is  no  news  from  the  coast  which  can  amount  to 
certainty  of  the  King's  arrival, "  said  another  of  the  company, 
in  that  tone  of  subdued  and  tremulous  whisper  which  implies 
a  failure  of  resolution. 

**  Not  a  line  from  the  Earl  of  D ,  nor  a  single  gentle- 
man from  the  southern  side  of  the  Border,"  said  a  third. 

"  Who  is  he  that  wishes  for  more  men  from  England,"  ex- 
claimed MareschaL  in  a  theatrical  tone  of  affected  heroism, 

**  *  My  cousin  EUieslaw  ?    No,  my  fair  cousin, 
If  we  are  doom'd  to  die '*' 

"  For  God's  sake,"  said  EUieslaw,  '^  spare  ns  your  folly  at 
present,  Mareschal." 

*^  Well,  then,"  said  his  kinsman,  "  I'll  bestow  my  wisdom 
upon  you  instead,  such  as  it  is.  If  we  have  gone  forward  like 
fools,  do  not  let  us  go  back  like  cowards.  We  have  dono 
enough  to  draw  upon  us  both  the  suspicion  and  vengeance  of 
the  government ;  do  not  let  us  give  up  before  we  have  done 
something  to  deserve  it.  What,  will  no  one  speak  ?  Then 
I'll  leap  the  ditch  the  first."  And,  starting  up,  he  filled  a 
beer-glass  to  the  brim  with  claret,  and,  waving  his  hand, 
commanded  all  to  follow  his  example  and  to  rise  up  from 
their  seats.  All  obeyed,  the  more  qualified  guests  as  if  pas- 
sively, the  others  with  enthusiasm.  '^Then,  my  friends,  I 
give  you  the  pledge  of  the  day — The  independence  of  Scot- 
land, and  the  health  of  our  lawful  sovereign.  King  James 
VIII.,  now  landed  in  Lothian,  and,  as  I  trust  and  believe,  in 
full  possession  of  his  ancient  capital ! " 

He  quaffed  off  the  wine  and  threw  the  glass  over  his  head. 

"It  should  never,"  he  said,  "be  profaned  by  a  meaner 
toaet." 

All  followed  his  example,  and,  amid  the  crash  of  glasses 
and  the  shouts  of  the  company,  pledged  themselves  to  stand 
or  fall  with  the  principles  and  political  interest  which  their 
toast  expressed. 

"  You  have  leaped  the  ditch  with  a  witness,"  said  EUies- 
law, apart  to  Mareschal ;  "  but  I  believe  it  is  all  for  the  best ; 
at  all  events  we  cannot  now  retreat  from  our  undertaking. 
One  man  alone  [looking  at  Ratcliffe]  has  refused  the  pledge  : 
but  of  that  by  and  by." 

Then,  rismg  up,  he  addressed  the  company  in  a  style  of 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  93 

inflammatory  invective  against  the  government  and  its  meas- 
ures, but  especially  the  Union  ;  a  treaty  by  means  of  which, 
he  affirmed,  Scotland  kad  been  at  once  cheated  of  her  inde- 
pendence, her  commerce,  and  her  honor,  and  laid  as  a  fettered 
slave  at  the  foot  of  the  rival  against  whom,  through  such  a 
length  of  ages,  through  so  many  dangers,  and  by  so  much 
blood,  she  had  honorably  defended  her  rights.  This  was 
touching  a  theme  which  found  a  responsive  chord  in  the  bosom 
of  every  man  present. 

^'Our  commerce  is  destroyed,^' hallooed  old  John  Rew- 
castle,  a  Jedburgh  smuggler,  from  the  lower  end  of  the 
table. 

''Our  agriculture  is  ruined,"  said  the  Laird  of  Broken- 
girth-flow,  a  territory  which,  since  the  days  of  Adam,  had 
borne  nothing  but  ling  and  whortle-berries. 

''  Our  religion  is  cut  up,  root  and  branch,"  said  the  pim- 
ple-nosed pastor  of  the  Episcopal  meeting-house  at  Kirk- 
whistle. 

''We  shall  shortly  neither  dare  shoot  a  deer  nor  kiss  a 
wench  without  a  certificate  from  the  presbytery  and  kirk-, 
treasurer,"  said  Mareschal  Wells. 

"  Or  make  a  brandy  Jeroboam  in  a  frosty  morning  with- 
out license  from  a  commissioner  of  excise,"  said  the  smug-, 
gier. 

"Or  ride  over  the  fell  in  a  moonless  night,"  said  West- 
burnflat,  "without  asking  leave  of  young  Earnscliff  or  some 
Englified  justice  of  the  peace.  Thae  were  gude  days  on  the 
Border  when  there  was  neither  peace  nor  Justice  heard  of." 

"  Let  us  remember  our  wrongs  at  Darien  and  Glencoe," 
continued  Ellieslaw,  "  and  take  arms  for  the  protection  of 
our  rights,  our  fortunes,  our  lives,  and  our  families." 

"Think  upon  genuine  Episcopal  ordination,  without 
which  there  can  be  no  lawful  clergy,"  said  the  divine. 

"  Think  of  the  piracies  committed  on  our  East-Indian 
trade  by  Green  *  and  the  English  thieves,"  said  William  Wii- 
lieson,  half-owner  and  sole  skipper  of  a  brig  that  made  four 
voyages  annually  between  Cockpool  and  Whitehaven. 

"Remember  your  liberties,"  rejoined  Mareschal,  who 
seemed  to  take  a  mischievous  delight  in  precipitating  the 
movements  of  the  enthusiasm  which  he  had  excited,  like  a 
roguish  boy  who,  having  lifted  the  sluice  of  a  mill-dam,  enjoys 
the  clatter  of  the  wheels  which  he  has  put  in  motion,  without 
thinking  of  the  mischief  he  may  have  occasioned — "remem- 
ber your  liberties,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  confound    cess,  press, 

*  See  Note  10, 


94  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and   presbytery,  and  the  memory  of  old  Willie  that  firsi 
brought  them  upon  us  !  '* 

"  Damn  the  ganger  \"  echoed  oid  John  Rewcastle  ;  "  III 
ileave  him  wi'  my  ain  hand." 

*' And  confound  the  country  keeper  and  the  constable  \" 
re-echoed  Westburnflat ;  *'  I'll  weize  a  brace  of  balls  through 
them  before  morning." 

"  We  are  agreed  then,"  said  Ellieslaw,  when  the  shouts 
had  somewhat  subsided,  ^'to  bear  this  state  of  things  no 
longer?" 

^'  We  are  agreed  to  a  man,"  answered  his  guests. 

''Not  literally  so,"  said  Mr.  Ratcliffe  ;  "for,  though  I 
cannot  hope  to  assuage  the  violent  symptoms  which  seem  so 
suddenly  to  have  seized  upon  the  company,  yet  I  beg  to  ob- 
serve that,  so  far  as  the  opinion  of  a  single  member  goes,  I  do 
not  entirely  coincide  in  the  list  of  grievances  which  has  been 
announced,  and  that  I  do  utterly  protest  against  the  frantic 
measures  which  you  seem  disposed  to  adopt  for  removing 
them.  I  can  easily  suppose  much  of  what  has  been  spoken 
may  have  arisen  out  of  the  heat  of  the  moment,  or  have  been 
said  perhaps  in  jest.  But  there  are  some  jests  of  a  nature 
very  apt  to  transpire  ;  and  you  ought  to  remember,  gentle- 
men, that  stone  walls  have  ears." 

''  Stone  walls  may  have  ears,"  returned  Ellieslaw,  eying 
him  with  a  look  of  triumphant  malignity,  "  but  domestic  spies, 
Mr.  Ratcliffe,  will  soon  find  themselves  without  any,  if  any 
such  dares  to  continue  his  abode  in  a  family  where  his  coming 
was  an  unauthorized  intrusion,  where  his  conduct  has  been 
that  of  a  presumptuous  meddler,  and  from  which  his  exit 
shall  be  that  of  a  baffled  knave,  if  he  does  not  know  how  to 
take  a  hint." 

"  Mr.  Vere,"  returned  Ratcliffe,  with  calm  contempt,  "  I 
am  fully  aware  that,  as  soon  as  my  presence  becomes  useless 
to  you,  which  it  must  through  the  rash  step  you  are  about  to 
adopt,  it  will  immediately  become  unsafe  to  myself,  as  it  has 
always  been  hateful  to  you.  But  I  have  one  protection,  and 
it  is  a  strong  one ;  for  you  would  not  willingly  hear  me  de- 
tail before  gentlemen  and  men  of  honor  the  singular  circum- 
stances in  which  our  connection  took  its  rise.  As  to  the  rest, 
I  rejoice  at  its  conclusion  ;  and,  as  I  think  that  Mr.  Mare- 
schal  and  some  other  gentlemen  will  guarantee  the  safety  of 
my  ears  and  of  my  throat — for  which  last  I  have  more  reason 
to  be  apprehensive — during  the  course  of  the  night,  I  shall 
not  leave  your  castle  till  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Be  it  so,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Vere  j  *^  you  are  entirely  safe 


THE  BLA  CK  D  WA  RF,  95 

from  my  resentment,  because  you  are  beneath  it,  and  not  be- 
cause I  am  afraid  of  your  disclosing  any  family  secrets,  al- 
though, for  your  own  sake,  I  warn  you  to  beware  how  you  do 
so.  Your  agency  and  intermediation  can  be  of  little  conse- 
quence to  one  who  will  win  or  lose  all,  as  lawful  right  or 
unjust  usurpation  shall  succeed  in  the  struggle  that  is  about 
to  ensue.     Farewell,  sir.'' 

Eatcliffe  arose  and  cast  upon  him  a  look,  which  Vere 
seemed  to  sustain  with  difficulty,  and  bowing  to  those  around 
him,  left  the  room. 

This  conversation  made  an  impression  on  many  of  the 
company,  which  Ellieslaw  hastened  to  dispel  by  entering  upon 
the  business  of  the  day.  Their  hasty  deliberations  went  to 
organize  an  immediate  insurrection.  Ellieslaw,  Mareschal, 
and  Sir  Frederick  Langley  were  chosen  leaders,  with  powers 
to  direct  their  farther  measures.  A  place  of  rendezvous  was 
appointed,  at  which  all  agreed  to  meet  early  on  the  ensuing 
day,  with  such  followers  and  friends  to  the  cause  as  each 
could  collect  around  him.  Several  of  the  guests  retired  to 
make  the  necessary  preparations ;  and  Ellieslaw  made  a  formal 
apology  to  the  others,  who,  with  Westburnflat  and  the  old 
smuggler,  continued  to  ply  the  bottle  stanchly,  for  leaving 
the  head  of  the  table,  as  he  must  necessarily  hold  a  separate 
and  sober  conference  with  the  coadjutors  whom  they  had  as- 
sociated with  him  in  the  command.  The  apology  was  the 
more  readily  accepted  as  he  prayed  them,  at  the  same  time,  to 
continue  to  amuse  themselves  with  such  refreshments  as  the 
cellars  of  the  castle  afforded.  Shouts  of  applause  followed 
their  retreat ;  and  the  names  of  Vere,  Langley,  and,  above  all. 
of  Mareschal,  were  thundered  forth  in  chorus,  and  bathed 
with  copious  bumpers  repeatedly,  during  the  remainder  of 
the  evening. 

When  the  principal  conspirators  had  retired  into  a  sepa- 
rate apartment,  they  gazed  on  each  other  for  a  minute  with  a 
sort  of  embarrassment,  which  in  Sir  Frede  ick's  dark  features 
amounted  to  an  expression  of  discontented  sullenness.  Mare- 
schal was  the  first  to  break  the  pause,  saying,  with  a  loud 
burst  of  laughter — "  Well !  we  are  fairly  embarked  now,  gen- 
tlemen ;  vogue  la  galere  I " 

"  We  may  thank  you  for  the  plunge,"  said  Ellieslaw. 
"Yes;  but  I  don't  know  how  far  you  will  thank  me," 
answered  Mareschal,  ''when  I  show  you  this  letter  which  I 
received  just  before  we  sat  down.  My  servant  told  me  it  was 
delivered  by  a  man  he  had  never  seen  before,  who  went  off 
at  the  gallop,  after  charging  him  to  put  it  into  my  own  hand." 


d6  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

Ellieslaw  impatiently  opened  the  letter  and  read  aloud- 

"  Edinburgh, 


HoND.  Sir, 

"  Having  obligations  to  your  family,  which  shall  be 
nameless,  and  learning  that  you  are  one  of  the  company  of 
adventurers  doing  business  for  the  house  of  James  and  Com- 
pany, late  merchants  in  London,  now  in  Dunkirk,  I  think  it 
right  to  send  you  this  early  and  private  information  that  the 
vessels  you  expected  have  been  driven  off  the  coast,  without 
having  been  able  to  break  bulk  or  to  land  any  part  of  their 
cargo  ;  and  that  the  west-country  partners  have  resolved  to 
withdraw  their  name  from  the  firm,  as  it  must  prove  a  losing 
concern.  Having  good  hope  you  will  avail  yourself  of  this 
early  information  to  do  what  is  needful  for  your  own  security, 
I  rest  your  humble  servant.  Nihil  Xameless. 

"  For  Ralph  Mareschal  of  Mareschal  Wells 
"  These,  with  care  and  speed." 

Sir  Frederick's  jaw  dropped  and  his  countenance  blackened 
as  the  letter  was  read,  and  Ellieslaw  exclaimed,  '^Why,  this 
affects  the  very  mainspring  of  our  enterprise.  If  the  French 
fleet,  with  the  King  on  board,  has  been  chased  off  by  the 
English,  as  this  d— d  scrawl  seems  to  intimate,  where  are 
wer^* 

^' Just  where  we  were  this  morning,  I  think,''  said  Mare- 
schal, still  laughing. 

"  Pardon  me,  and  a  truce  to  your  ill-timed  mirth,  Mr. 
Mareschal ;  this  morning  we  were  not  committed  publicly,  as 
we  now  stand  committed  by  your  own  mad  act,  when  you  had 
a  letter  in  your  pocket  apprising  you  that  our  undertaking 
was  desperate." 

'^  Ay,  ay,  I  expected  you  would  say  so.  But,  in  the  first 
place,  my  friend  Nihil  Nameless  and  his  letter  may  be  all  a 
flam ;  and,  moreover,  I  would  have  you  know  that  I  am  tired 
of  a  party  that  does  nothing  but  form  bold  resolutions  over 
night,  and  sleep  them  away  with  their  wine  before  morning. 
The  government  are  now  unprovided  of  men  and  ammuni- 
tion ;  in  a  few  weeks  they  will  have  enough  of  both.  The 
country  is  now  in  a  flame  against  them  ;  in  a  few  weeks,  be- 
twixt the  effects  of  self-interest,  of  fear,  and  of  lukewarm  in- 
difference, which  are  already  so  visible,  this  first  fervor  will 
be  as  cold  as  Christmas.  So,  as  I  was  determined  to  go  the 
'^ole,  I  have  taken  care  you  shall  dip  as  deep  as  I.     It  signi- 

•  See  The  Pretender's  Descent  upon  ScoUand.    Note  11. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  97 

fies  nothing  plunging :  yon  are  fairly  in  the  bog,  and  must 
struggle  through." 

**  You  are  mistaken  with  respect  to  one  of  us,  Mr.  Mare- 
schal,"  said  Sir  Frederick  Langley  ;  and,  applying  himself  to 
the  bell,  he  desired  the  person  who  entered  to  order  his  ser- 
vants and  horses  immediately. 

'^  You  must  not  leave  us.  Sir  Frederick,"  said  Ellieslaw  ; 
*'  we  have  our  musters  to  go  over." 

'^  I  will  go  to-night,  Mr.  Vere,"  said  Sir  Frederick,  '''and 
write  you  my  intentions  in  this  matter  when  I  am  at  home." 

"Ay,"  said  Mareschal,  **^and  send  them  by  a  troop  of 
horse  from  Carlisle  to  make  us  prisoners  ?  Look  ye.  Sir 
Frederick,  I  for  one  will  neither  be  deserted  nor  betrayed ; 
and  if  you  leave  Ellieslaw  Castle  to-night,  it  shall  be  by  pass- 
ing over  my  dead  body." 

*'For  shame  !  Mareschal,"  said  Mr.  Vere,  ''how  can  you 
so  hastily  misinterpret  our  friend's  intentions  ?  I  am  sure  Sir 
Frederick  can  only  be  jesting  with  us  ;  for,  were  he  not  too 
honorable  to  dream  of  deserting  the  cause,  he  cannot  but  re- 
member the  full  proofs  we  have  of  his  accession  to  it  and  his 
eager  activity  in  advancing  it.  He  cannot  but  be  conscious, 
besides,  that  the  first  information  will  be  readily  received 
by  government,  and  that,  if  the  question  be  which  can  first, 
lodge  intelligence  of  the  affair,  we  can  easily  save  a  few  hours 
on  him." 

''  You  should  say  you,  and  not  we,  when  you  talk  of 
priorities  in  such  a  race  of  treachery  ;  for  my  part,  I  won't 
enter  my  horse  for  such  a  plate,"  said  Mareschal,  and  added 
betwixt "^his  teeth,  "  A  pretty  pair  of  fellows  to  trust  a  man's 
neck  with ! " 

"  I  am  not  to  be  intimidated  from  doing  what  I  think 
proper,"  said  Sir  Frederick  Langley  ;  "  and  my  first  step  shall 
be  to  leave  Ellieslaw.  I  have  no  reason  to  keep  faith  with 
one  [looking  at  Vere]  who  has  kept  none  with  me." 

"  In  what  respect  ? "  said  Ellieslaw,  silencing  with  a 
motion  of  his  hand  his  impetuous  kinsman  ;  "how  have  I  dis- 
appointed you.  Sir  Frederick  ?" 

"  In  the  nearest  and  most  tender  point ;  you  have  trifled 
with  me  concerning  our  proposed  alliance,  which  you  well 
knew  was  the  gage  of  our  political  undertaking.  This  carry- 
ing off  and  this  bringing  back  of  Miss  Vere,  the  cold  recep- 
tion I  have  met  with  from  her,  and  the  excuses  with  which 
you  cover  it,  I  believe  to  be  mere  evasions,  that  you  may 
yourself  retain  possession  of  the  estates  which  are  hers  by 
right,  and  make  me,  in  the  mean  while,  a  tool  in  your  desperate 


98  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

enterprise,  by  holding  out  hopes  and  expectations  which  yon 
are  resolved  never  to  realize/* 

Sir  Frederick,  I  protest,  by  all  that  is  sacred- 


"  I  will  listen  to  no  protestations ;  I  have  been  cheated 
with  them  too  long/'  answered  Sir  Frederick. 

''If  you  leave  us/'  said  EUieslaw,  ''you  cannot  but  know 
both  your  ruin  and  ours  is  certain  ;  all  depends  on  our  adher- 
ing together." 

"  Leave  me  to  take  care  of  myself/'  returned  the  knight ; 
"  but  were  what  you  say  true,  I  would  rather  perish  than  be 
fooled  any  farther.'' 

"Can  nothing — no  surety — convince  you  of  my  sincer- 
ity ? "  said  Ellieslaw,  anxiously.  "  This  morning  I  should 
have  repelled  your  unjust  suspicions  as  an  insult ;  but  situated 
as  we  now  are " 

"  You  feel  yourself  compelled  to  be  sincere  ?  "  retorted 
Sir  Frederick.  "  If  you  would  have  me  think  so,  there  is 
but  one  way  to  convince  me  of  it  :  let  your  daughter  bestow 
her  hand  on  me  this  evening." 

"  So  soon  ?  impossible,"  answered  Vere.  "  Think  of  her 
iate  alarm,  of  our  present  undertaking." 

"  I  will  listen  to  nothing  but  to  her  consent,  plighted  at 
the  altar.  You  have  a  chapel  in  the  castle  ;  Doctor  Hobbler 
is  present  among  the  company  ;  this  proof  of  your  good  faith 
to-night,  and  we  are  again  joined  in  heart  and  hand.  If  you 
refuse  me  when  it  is  so  much  for  your  advantage  to  consent, 
how  shall  I  trust  you  to-morrow,  when  I  shall  stand  com- 
mitted in  your  undertaki:::g  and  unable  to  retract  ?  " 

"  And  I  am  to  understand  that,  if  you  can  be  made  my 
son-in-law  to-night,  our  friendship  is  renewed  ?  "  said  Ellies- 
law. 

"  Most  infallibly  and  most  inviolably,"  replied  Sir  Fred- 
erick. 

"  Then,"  said  Vere,  "though  what  you  ask  is  premature, 
indelicate,  and  unjust  towards  my  character,  yet.  Sir  Fred- 
erick, give  me  your  hand  ;  my  daughter  shall  be  your  wife/* 

"This  night?" 

"  This  very  night,"  replied  Ellieslaw,  "  before  the  clock 
strikes  twelve." 

"  With  her  own  consent,  I  trust,"  said  Mareschal ;  "for  I 
promise  you  both,  gentlemen,  I  will  not  stand  tamely  by  and 
see  any  violence  put  on  the  will  of  my  pretty  kinswoman." 

"  Another  pest  in  this  hot-headed  fellow,"  muttered  Ellies- 
law ;  and  then  aloud,  "  With  her  own  consent  ?  For  what 
do  you  take  me,  Mareschal,  that  you  should  suppose  your  in- 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  99 

terference  necessary  to  protect  my  daughter  against  her 
father  ?  Depend  upon  it,  she  has  no  repugnance  to  Sir 
Frederick  Langley." 

''Or  rather  to  be  called  Lady  Langley  ?  Faith,  like 
enough  there  are  many  women  might  be  of  her  mind  ;  and  I 
beg  your  pardon,  but  these  sudden  demands  and  concessions 
alarmed  me  a  little  on  hek  account/' 

"It  is  only  the  suddenness  of  the  proposal  that  embar- 
rasses me,"  said  Elliesla\r  ;  ''  but  perhaps,  if  she  is  found  in- 
tractable, Sir  Frederick  will  consider '' 

"  I  will  consider  nothing,  Mr.  Vere  ;  your  daughter's 
hand  to-night,  or  I  depart,  were  it  at  midnight — there  is  my 
ultimatum." 

''I embrace  it,"  said  Ellieslaw  ;  ''and  I  will  leave  you  to 
talk  upon  our  military  preparations,  while  I  go  to  prepare 
my  daughter  for  so  sudden  a  change  of  condition. " 

So  saying,  he  left  the  company. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

He  brings  Eari  Osmond  to  receive  my  vows. 

O  dreadful  change  I  for  Tancred,  haughty  Osmond. 

Tancred  and  Sigismunda, 

Me.  Vere,  whom  long  practice  of  dissimulation  had  enabled 
to  model  his  very  gait  and  footsteps  to  aid  the  purposes  of 
deception,  walked  along  the  stone  passage  and  up  the  first 
flight  of  steps  towards  Miss  Veres's  apartment  with  the  alert, 
firm,  and  steady  pace  of  one  who  is  bound,  indeed,  upon  im- 
portant business,  but  who  entertains  no  doubt  he  can  ter- 
minate his  affairs  satisfactorily.  But  when  out  of  hearing 
of  the  gentlemen  whom  he  had  left,  his  step  became  so  slow 
and  irresolute  as  to  correspond  with  his  doubts  and  his  fears. 
At  length  he  paused  in  an  antechamber  to  collect  his  ideas 
and  form  his  plan  of  argument  before  approaching  his 
daughter. 

"  In  what  more  hopeless  and  inextricable  dilemma  was 
ever  an  unfortunate  man  involved  ! ''  Such  was  the  tenor 
of  his  reflections.  ''If  we  now  fall  to  pieces  by  disunion, 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  government  will  take  my 
life  as  the  prime  agitator  of  the  insurrection.  Or,  grant  I 
could  stoop  to  save  myself  by  a  hasty  submission,  am  I  not, 
even  in  that  case,  utterly  ruined  ?  I  have  broken  irrecon- 
cilably with  Ratcliffe,  and  can  have  nothing  to  expect  from 
that  quarter  but  insult  and  persecution.  I  must  wander 
forth  an  impoverished  and  dishonored  man,  without  even  the 
means  of  sustaining  life,  far  less  wealth  sufficient  to  counter- 
balance the  infamy  which  my  countrymen,  both  those  whom 
in  the  case  supposed  I  desert  and  those  whom  I  join,  will  at- 
tach to  the  name  of  the  political  renegade.  It  is  not  to  be 
thought  of.  And  yet,  what  choice  remains  between  this  lot 
and  the  ignominious  scaffold  ?  Nothing  can  save  me  but 
reconciliation  with  these  men  ;  and,  to  accomplish  this,  I 
have  promised  to  Langley  that  Isabella  shall  marry  him  ere 
midnight,  and  to  Mareschal,  that  she  shall  do  so  without 
compulsion.  I  have  but  one  remedy  betwixt  me  and  ruin — ■ 
her  consent  to  take  a  suitor  whom  she  dislikes,  upon  such 
ghort  notice  as  would  disgust  her  even  were  he  a  favored 

100 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  101 

lover.  But  I' must  trust  to  the  romantic  generosity  of  her 
disposition  ;  and  let  me  paint  the  necessity  of  her  obedience 
ever  so  strongly,  I  cannot  overcharge  its  reality/^ 

Having  finished  this  sad  chain  of  reflections  upon  his 
perilous  condition,  he  entered  his  daughter's  apartment  with 
every  nerve  bent  up  to  the  support  of  the  argument  which  he 
was  about  to  sustain.  Though  a  deceitful  and  ambitious  man, 
he  was  not  so  devoid  of  natural  affection  but  that  he  was 
shocked  at  the  part  he  was  about  to  act,  in  practising  on  the 
feelings  of  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  child  ;  but  the  recollec- 
tions that,  if  he  succeeded,  his  daughter  would  only  be 
trepanned  into  an  advantageous  match,  and  that,  if  he  failed, 
he  himself  was  a  lost  man,  were  quite  sufficient  to  drown  all 
scruples. 

He  found  Miss  Vere  seated  by  the  window  of  her  dressing- 
room,  her  head  reclining  on  her  hand,  and  either  sunk  in 
slumber  or  so  deeply  engaged  in  meditation  that  she  did  not 
hear  the  noise  he  made  at  his  entrance.  He  approached  with 
his  features  composed  to  a  deep  expression  of  sorrow  and 
sympathy,  and,  sitting  down  beside  her,  solicited  her  attention 
by  quietly  taking  her  hand,  a  motion  which  he  did  not  fail  to 
accompany  with  a  deep  sigh. 

"  My  father  !  *'  said  Isabella,  with  a  sort  of  start,  which 
expressed  at  least  as  much  fear  as   joy   or   affection. 

"Yes,  Isabella,^''  said  Vere,  *'your  unhappy  father,  who 
comes  now  as  a  penitent  to  crave  forgiveness  of  his  daughter 
for  an  injury  done  to  her  in  the  excess  of  his  affection,  and 
then  to  take  leave  of  her  forever. '' 

"  Sir  !  Offence  to  me  !  Take  leave  forever  !  What  does 
all  this  mean  ?  '^  said  Miss  Vere. 

"  Yes,  Isabella,  I  am  serious.  But  first  let  me  ask  you, 
have  you  no  suspicion  that  I  may  have  been  privy  to  the 
strange  chance  which  befell  you  yesterday  morning  ?  " 

** You,  sir?''  answered  Isabella,  stammering  between  a 
consciousness  that  he  had  guessed  her  thoughts  justly  and 
the  shame  as  well  as  fear  which  forbade  her  to  acknowledge  a 
suspicion  so  degrading  and  so  unnatural. 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "  your  hesitation  confesses  that  you 
entertained  such  an  opinion,  and  I  have  now  the  painful  task 
of  acknowledging  that  your  suspicions  have  done  me  no  in- 
justice. But  listen  to  my  motives.  In  an  evil  hour  I 
countenanced  the  addresses  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  conceiv- 
ing it  impossible  that  you  could  have  any  permanent 
objections  to  a  match  where  the  advantages  were,  in  most 
respects,  on  your  side.     In  a  worse,  I  entered  with  him   into 


102  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

measures  calculated  to  restore  our  banished  monarch  and  the 
independence  of  my  country.  He  has  taken  advantage  of  my 
unguarded  confidence,  and  now  has  my  life  at  his  disposal." 

"Your  life,  sir?"  said  Isabella,  faintly. 

"  Yes,  Isabella,"  continued  her  father,  "  the  life  of  him 
who  gave  life  to  you.  So  soon  as  I  foresaw  the  excesses  into 
which  his  headlong  passion — for,  to  do  him  justice,  I  believe 
his  unreasonable  conduct  arises  from  excess  of  attachment  to 
you — was  likely  to  hurry  him,  I  endeavored,  by  finding  a 
plausible  pretext  for  your  absence  for  some  weeks,  to  extri- 
cate myself  from  the  dilemma  in  which  I  am  placed.  For 
this  purpose  I  wished,  in  case  your  objections  to  the  match 
continued  insurmountable,  to  have  sent  you  privately  for  a 
few  months  to  the  convent  of  your  maternal  aunt  at  Paris. 
By  a  series  of  mistakes  you  have  been  brought  from  the  place 
of  secrecy  and  security  which  I  had  destined  for  your  tempo- 
rary abode.  Fate  has  baffled  my  last  chance  of  escape,  and  I 
have  only  to  give  you  my  blessing  and  send  you  from  the 
castle  with  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who  now  leaves  it ;  my  own  fate  will 
soon  be  decided." 

"Good  Heaven,  sir!  can  this  be  possible?"  exclaimed 
Isabella.  "0,  why  was  I  freed  from  the  restraint  in  which 
you  placed  me  ?  or  why  did  you  not  impart  your  pleasure  to 
me?" 

"  Think  an  instant,  Isabella.  Would  you  have  had  me 
prejudice  in  your  opinion  the  friend  I  was  most  desirous  of 
serving,  by  communicating  to  you  the  injurious  eagerness 
with  which  he  pursued  his  object  ?  Could  I  do  so  honorably, 
having  promised  to  assist  his  suit  ?  But  it  is  all  over.  I  and 
Mareschal  have  made  up  our  minds  to  die  like  men  ;  it  only 
remains  to  send  you  from  hence  under  a  safe  escort." 

"  Great  powers  !  and  is  there  no  remedy  ?"  said  the  ter- 
rified young  woman. 

"  None,  my  child,"  answered  Vere,  gently,  "  unless  one 
which  you  would  not  advise  your  father  to  adopt — to  be  the 
first  to  betray  his  friends." 

"  0,  no  !  no  !"  she  answered,  abhorrently  yet  hastily,  as 
if  to  reject  the  temptation  which  the  alternative  presented  to 
her.  "  But  is  there  no  other  hope — through  flight,  through 
mediation,  through  supplication  ?  I  will  bend  my  knee  to 
Sir  Frederick  ! " 

"  It  would  be  a  fruitless  degradation  ;  he  is  determined  on 
Ais  course,  and  I  am  equally  resolved  to  stand  the  hazard  of  my 
fate.  On  one  condition  only  he  will  turn  aside  from  his  pur- 
pose, and  that  condition  my  lips  shall  never  utter  to  you. 


TEE  BLACK  DWARF  103 

''  Name  it,  I  conjure  you,  my  dear  father  V*  exclaimed  Isa- 
bella. ''  What  can  he  ask  that  we  ought  not  to  grant,  to  pre- 
vent the  hideous  catastrophe  with  which  you  are  threatened  ?  " 

''That,  Isabella,''  said  Vere,  solemnly,  ''you  shall  never 
know  until  your  father's  head  has  rolled  on  the  bloody  scaf- 
fold ;  then,  indeed,  you  will  learn  there  was  one  sacrifice  by 
which  he  might  have  been  saved." 

"And  why  not  speak  it  now  ?"  said  Isabella;  "do  you 
fear  I  would  flinch  from  the  sacrifice  of  fortune  for  your 
preservation  ?  or  would  you  bequeath  me  the  bitter  legacy  of 
life-long  remorse,  so  oft  as  I  shall  think  that  you  perished 
while  there  remained  one  mode  of  preventing  the  dreadful 
misfortune  that  overhangs  you  ?" 

"Then,  my  child,"  said  Vere,  "since  you  press  me  to 
name  what  I  would  a  thousand  times  rather  leave  in  silence,  I 
must  inform  you  that  he  will  accept  for  ransom  nothing  but 
your  hand  in  marriage,  and  that  conferred  before  midnight 
this  very  evening  ! " 

"This  evening,  sir!"  said  the  young  lady,  struck  with 
horror  at  the  proposal — "  and  to  such  a  man  !  A  man  ?  a 
monster,  who  could  wish  to  win  the  daughter  by  threatening 
the  life  of  the  father ;  it  is  impossible  ! " 

"You  say  right,  my  child,"  answered  her  father,  "it  is 
indeed  impossible  ;  nor  have  I  either  the  right  or  the  wish  to 
exact  such  a  sacrifice.  It  is  the  course  of  nature  that  the  old 
should  die  and  be  forgot,  and  the  young  should  live  and  be 
happy." 

"My  father  die,  and  his  child  can  save  him  !  but  no-^no 
— my  dear  father,  pardon  me,  it  is  impossible  ;  you  only  wish 
to  guide  me  to  your  wishes.  I  know  your  object  is  what  you 
think  my  happiness,  and  this  dreadful  tale  is  only  told  to  in- 
fluence my  conduct  and  subdue  my  scruples." 

"  My  daughter,"  replied  Ellieslaw,  in  a  tone  where  offended 
authority  seemed  to  struggle  with  parental  affection — "my 
child  suspects  me  of  inventing  a  false  tale  to  work  upon  her 
feelings  !  Even  this  I  must  bear,  and  even  from  this  un- 
worthy suspicion  I  must  descend  to  vindicate  myself.  You 
know  the  stainless  honor  of  your  cousin  Mareschal ;  mark 
what  I  shall  write  to  him,  and  judge  from  his  answer  if  the 
danger  in  which  we  stand  is  not  real,  and  whether  I  have  not 
used  every  means  to  avert  it." 

He  sat  down,  wrote  a  few  lines  hastily  and  handed  them 
to  Isabella,  who,  after  repeated  and  painful  efforts,  cleared 
her  eyes  and  head  sufficiently  to  discern  their  purport. 

"Dear  cousin,"  said  the  billet,  " I  find  my  daughter, as  I 


104  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

expected,  in  despair  at  the  untimely  and  premature  urgency 
of  Sir  Frederick  Langley.  She  cannot  even  comprehend  the 
peril  in  which  we  stand,  or  how  much  we  are  in  his  power. 
Use  your  influence  with  him,  for  Heaven^s  sake,  to  modify 
proposals  to  the  acceptance  of  which  I  cannot,  and  will  not, 
urge  my  child  against  all  her  own  feelings,  as  well  as  those 
of  delicacy  and  propriety,  and  oblige  your  loving  cousin, 
E.  V/' 

In  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  when  her  swimming  eyes 
and  dizzy  brain  could  hardly  comprehend  the  sense  of  what 
she  looked  upon,  it  is  not  surprising  that  Miss  Vere  should 
have  omitted  to  remark  that  this  letter  seemed  to  rest  her 
scruples  rather  upon  the  form  and  time  of  the  proposed 
union  than  on  a  rooted  dislike  to  the  suitor  proposed  to  her. 
Mr.  Vere  rang  the  bell  and  gave  the  letter  to  a  servant  to  be 
delivered  to  Mr.  Mareschal,  and,  rising  from  his  chair,  con- 
tinued to  traverse  the  apartment  in  silence  and  in  great 
agitation  until  the  answer  was  returned.  He  glanced  it  over, 
and  wrung  the  hand  of  his  daughter  as  he  gave  it  to  her. 
The  tenor  was  as  follows : 

"  My  dear  Ki:srsMAN' — I  have  already  urged  the  knight 
on  the  point  you  mention,  and  I  find  him  as  fixed  as  Cheviot. 
I  am  truly  sorry  my  fair  cousin  should  be  pressed  to  give  up 
any  of  her  maidenly  rights.  Sir  Frederick  consents,  how- 
ever, to  leave  the  castle  with  me  the  instant  the  ceremony  is 
performed,  and  we  will  raise  our  followers  and  begin  the  fray. 
Thifs  there  is  great  hope  the  bridegroom  may  be  knocked  on 
the  head  before  he  and  the  bride  can  meet  again,  so  Bell  has 
a  fair  chance  to  be  Lady  Langley  a  tres  ion  marche.  For 
the  rest,  I  can  only  say  that  if  she  can  make  up  her  mind  to 
the  alliance  at  all — it  is  no  time  for  mere  maiden  ceremony 
— my  pretty  cousin  must  needs  consent  to  marry  in  haste,  or 
we  shall  all  repent  at  leisure,  or  rather  have  very  little  leisure 
to  repent ;  which  is  all  at  present  from  him  who  rests  your 
affectionate  kinsman,  R.  M. 

''P.S. — Tell  Isabella  that  I  would  rather  cut  the  knight^s 
throat  after  all,  and  end  the  dilemma  that  way,  than  see  her 
constrained  to  marry  him  against  her  will.'' 

When  Isabella  had  read  this  letter  it  dropped  from  her 
hand,  and  she  would,  at  the  same  time,  have  lallen  from  her 
chair,  had  she  not  been  supported  by  her  father. 

*'  My  God,  my  child  will  die  ! "  exclaimed  Vere,  the  feel- 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  105 

ings  of  nature  overcoming,  even  in  Ms  breast,  the  sentiments 
of  selfish  policy ;  ^'  look  up,  Isabella — look  up,  my  child  ; 
come  what  will,  you  shall  not  be  the  sacrifice.  I  will  fall  my- 
self with  the  consciousness  I  leave  you  happy.  My  child  may 
weep  on  my  grave,  but  she  shall  not — not  in  this  instance — 
reproach  my  memory."  He  called  a  servant.  *'  Go,  bid  Rat- 
cliSe  come  hither  directly." 

During  this  interval  Miss  Vere  became  deadly  pale, 
clinched  her  hands,  pressing  the  palms  strongly  together^ 
closed  her  eyes,  and  drew  her  lips  with  strong  compression, 
as  if  the  severe  constraint  which  she  put  upon  her  internal 
feelings  extended  even  to  her  muscular  organization.  Then 
raising  her  head  and  drawing  in  her  breath  strongly  ere  she 
spoke,  she  said,  with  firmness,  ^'Father,  I  consent  to  the 
marriage." 

*'  You  shall  not — you  shall  not ;  my  child — my  dear  child, 
you  shall  not  embrace  certain  misery  to  free  me  from  uncer- 
tain danger."  So  exclaimed  Ellieslaw  ;  and,  strange  and  in- 
consistent beings  that  we  are  !  he  expressed  the  real  though 
momentary  feelings  of  his  heart. 

*^  Father,"  repeated  Isabella,  "  I  will  consent  to  this  mar- 
riage." 

'^  No,  my  child,  no  ;  not  now  at  least.  We  will  humble 
ourselves  to  obtain  delay  from  him ;  and  yet,  Isabella,  could 
you  overcome  a  dislike  which  has  no  real  foundation,  think, 
in  other  respects,  what  a  match  ! — wealth,  rank,  importance. '' 

*' Father  ! "  reiterated  Isabella,  *'  I  have  consented." 

It  seemed  as  if  she  had  lost  the  power  of  saying  anything 
else,  or  even  of  varying  the  phrase  which,  with  such  effort, 
she  had  compelled  herself  to  utter. 

''  Heaven  bless  thee,  my  child  ! — Heaven  bless  thee  !  And 
it  will  bless  thee  with  riches,  with  pleasure,  with  power." 

Miss  Vere  faintly  entreated  to  be  left  by  herself  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening. 

''  But  will  you  not  receive  Sir  Frederick  ?  "  said  her  father, 
anxiously. 

^'1  will  meet  him,"  she  replied — "I  will  meet  him — 
when  I  must,  and  where  I  must ;   but  spare  me  now." 

^'  Be  it  so,  my  dearest ;  you  shall  know  no  restraint  that 
I  can  save  you  from.  Do  not  think  too  hardly  of  Sir  Fred- 
erick for  this ;  it  is  an  excess  of  passion. " 

Isabella  waved  her  hand  impatiently. 

''  Forgive  me,  my  child  ;  I  go.  Heaven  bless  thee  !  At 
eleven — ii  you  call  me  not  before — at  eleven  I  come  to  seek 
you." 


106  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

When  lie  left  Isabella .  she  dropped  upon  her  knees. 
''  Heaven  aid  me  to  support  the  resolution  I  have  taken. 
Heaven  only  can !  0,  poor  Earnscliff  !  who  shall  comfort 
him  ?  and  with  what  contempt  will  he  pronounce  her  name 
who  listened  to  him  to-day  and  gave  herself  to  another  at 
night !  But  let  him  despise  me,  better  so  than  that  he  should 
know  the  truth.  Let  him  despise  me  ;  if  it  will  but  lessen 
his  grief,  I  should  feel  comfort  in  the  loss  of  his  esteem." 

She  wept  bitterly  ;  attempting  in  vain,  from  time  to  time, 
to  commence  the  prayer  for  which  she  had  sunk  on  her  knees, 
but  unable  to  calm  her  spirits  sufficiently  for  the  exercise  of 
devotion.  As  she  remained  in  this  agony  of  mind  the  door 
of  her  apartment  was  slowly  opened. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  darksome  cave  they  enter,  where  they  found 
The  woful  man,  low  sitting  on  the  gromid, 
Musing  full  sadly  in  his  sullen  mind. 

Faerie  Queene, 

The  intruder  on  Miss  Vere's  sorrows  was  Ratcliffe.  Ellies- 
law  had,  in  the  agitation  of  his  mind,  lorgotten  to  counter- 
mand the  order  he  had  given  to  call  him  thither,  so  that  he 
opened  the  door  with  the  words,  **  You  sent  for  me,  Mr. 
Vere."  Then  looking  around — "Miss  Vere,  alone!  on  the 
ground  !  and  in  tears!" 

"Leave  me — leave  me,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,"  said  the  unhappy 
young  lady. 

"I  must  not  leave  you,"  said  Ratcliffe  ;  "I  have  been  re- 
peatedly requesting  admittance  to  take  my  leave  of  you,  and 
have  been  refused,  until  your  father  himself  sent  for  me. 
Blame  me  not  if  I  am  bold  and  intrusive  ;  I  have  a  duty  to 
discharge  which  makes  me  so." 

"  I  cannot  listen  to  you,  I  cannot  speak  to  you,  Mr. 
Ratcliffe  ;  take  my  best  wishes,  and  for  God's  sake  leave 
me." 

"  Tell  me  only,"  said  Ratcliffe,  "is  it  true  that  this  mon- 
strous match  is  to  go  forward,  and  this  very  night  ?  I  heard 
the  servants  proclaim  it  as  I  was  on  the  great  staircase ;  I 
heard  the  directions  given  to  clear  out  the  chapel." 

"  Spare  me,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,"  replied  the  luckless  bride ; 
"and,  from  the  state  in  which  you  see  me,  judge  of  the 
cruelty  of  these  questions." 

"  Married  !  to  Sir  Frederick  Langley  !  and  this  night !  It 
must  not — cannot — shall  not  be." 

"It  must  be,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  or  my  father  is  ruined." 

"  Ah  !  I  understand,"  answered  Ratcliffe  ;  "  and  you  have 

sacrificed  yourself  to  save  him  who But  let  the  virtue 

of  the  child  atone  for  the  faults  of  the  father  ;  it  is  no  time 
to  rake  them  up.  What  can  be  done  ?  Time  presses.  I 
know  but  one  remedy ;  with  four-and-twenty  hours  I  might 
find  many.     Miss  Vere,  you  must  implore  the  protection  of 


108  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  only  human  being  who  has  it  in  his  power  to  control  the 
course  of  events  which  threatens  to  hurry  you  before  it." 

''And  what  human  being/'  answered  Miss  Vere,  "has 
such  power  ?  " 

"  Start  not  when  I  name  him/'  said  Ratclifte,  coming  near 
her,  and  speaking  in  a  low  but  distinct  voice.  "  It  is  he  who 
is  called  Elshender,  the  Recluse  of  Mucklestane  Moor.'' 

"You  are  mad,  Mr.  Eatcliffe,  or  you  mean  to  insult  my 
misery  by  an  ill-timed  jest ! " 

"I  am  as  much  in  my  senses,  young  lady," answered  her 
adviser,  "as  you  are ;  and  I  am  no  idle  jester,  far  less  with 
misery,  least  of  all  with  your  misery.  I  swear  to  you  that  this 
being,  who  is  other  far  than  what  he  seems,  actually  possesses 
the  means  of  redeeming  you  from  this  hateful  union." 

"And  of  insuring  my  father's  safety  ?" 

"  Yes  !  even  that,"  said  Rat  cliff  e,  "  if  you  plead  his  cause 
with  him.     Yet  how  to  obtain  admittance  to  the  Recluse  !" 

"  Fear  not  that,"  said  Miss  Vere,  suddenly  recollecting 
the  incident  of  the  rose;  "I  remember  he  desired  me  to  caU 
upon  him  for  aid  in  my  extremity,  and  gave  me  this  flower 
as  a  token.  Ere  it  faded  away  entirely,  I  would  need,  he  said, 
his  assistance  ;  is  it  possible  his  words  can  have  been  aught 
but  the  ravings  of  insanity  ?  " 

"  Doubt  it  not,  fear  it  not ;  but  above  all,"  said  Ratcliffe, 
"  let  us  lose  no  time.     Are  you  at  liberty  and  un watched  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so,"  said  Isabella  ;  "  but  what  would  you  have 
me  to  do  ?  " 

"  Leave  the  castle  instantly,"  said  Ratcliffe,  "  and  throw 
yourself  at  the  feet  of  this  extraordinary  man,  who,  in  cir- 
cumstances that  seem  to  argue  the  extremity  of  the  most  con- 
temptible poverty,  possesses  yet  an  almost  absolute  influence 
over  your  fate.  Guests  and  servants  are  deep  in  their  carouse, 
the  leaders  sitting  in  conclave  on  their  treasonable  schemes. 
My  horse  stands  ready  in  the  stable  ;  I  will  saddle  one  for  you, 
and  meet  you  at  the  little  garden  gate.  0,  let  no  doubt  of 
my  prudence  or  fidelity  prevent  your  taking  the  only  step  in 
your  power  to  escape  the  dreadful  fate  which  must  attend  the 
wife  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley  !" 

"Mr.  Ratcliffe,"  said  Miss  Vere,  "you  have  always  been 
esteemed  a  man  of  honor  and  probity.  You  have  maintained, 
I  am  sensible,  a  powerful  though  mysterious  influence  over 
the  destinies  of  this  family.  A  drowning  wretch  will  always 
catch  at  the  feeblest  twig  :  I  will  trust  you,  I  will  follow  your 
advice,  I  will  meet  you  at  the  garden  gate." 

She  bolted  the  outer  door  oiher  apartment  as  soon  as  Mr, 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  109 

Ratcliffe  left  her,  and  descended  to  the  garden  by  a  separate 
stair  of  communication  which  opened  to  her  dressing-room. 
On  the  way  she  felt  inclined  to  retract  the  consent  she  had  so 
hastily  given  to  a  plan  so  hopeless  and  extravagant.  But  as 
she  passed  in  her  descent  a  private  door  which  entered  into 
the  chapel  from  the  backstair,  she  heard  the  voices  of  the 
female  servants  as  they  were  employed  in  the  task  of  cleaning 
it. 

*'  Married  !  and  to  sae  bad  a  man.  Ewhow,  sirs  !  ony- 
thing  rather  than  that. " 

"  They  are  right — they  are  right/''  said  Miss  Vere  ;  "  any- 
thing rather  than  that ! '' 

.  She  hurried  to  the  garden.  Mr.  Ratcliffe  was  true  to  his 
appointment  :  the  horses  stood  saddled  at  the  garden  gate, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  advancing  rapidly  towards 
the  hut  of  the  Solitary. 

While  the  ground  was  favorable  the  speed  of  their  journey 
was  such  as  to  prevent  much  communication  ;  but  when  a 
steep  ascent  compelled  them  to  slacken  their  pace,  a  new 
cause  of  apprehension  occurred  to  Miss  Veres's  mind. 

*'Mr.  Ratcl iff e,'' she  said,  pulling  up  her  horse^s  bridle, 
^'  let  us  prosecute  no  farther  a  journey  which  nothing  but  the 
extreme  agitation  of  my  mind  can  vindicate  my  having  under- 
taken. I  am  well  aware  that  this  man  passes  among  the  vul- 
gar as  being  possessed  of  supernatural  powers,  and  carrying 
on  an  intercourse  with  beings  of  another  world  ;  but  I  would 
have  you  aware  I  am  neither  to  be  imposed  on  by  such  follies, 
nor,  were  I  to  believe  in  their  existence,  durst  I,  with  my  feel- 
ings of  religion,  apply  to  this  being  in  my  distress." 

"  I  should  have  thought.  Miss  Yere,"  replied  Ratcliffe, 
*^my  character  and  habits  of  thinking  were  so  well  known  to 
you  that  you  might  have  held  me  exculpated  from  crediting 
in  such  absurdity." 

**But  in  what  other  mode,"  said  Isabella,  "can  a  being 
eo  miserable  himself  in  appearance  possess  the  power  of  assist- 
ing me  ?" 

^'  Miss  Vere,"  said  Ratcliffe,  after  a  momentary  pause,  *'I 
am  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  of  secrecy.  You  must,  without 
farther  explanation,  be  satisfied  with  my  pledged  assurance 
that  he  does  possess  the  power,  if  you  can  inspire  him  with 
the  will ;  and  that,  I  doubt  not,  you  will  be  able  to  do." 

**Mr.  Ratcliffe,"  said  Miss  Yere,  *^you  may  yourself  be 
mistaken  :  ^ou  ask  an  anlimited  degree  of  confidence  from 
me." 

^'  Recollect,  Miss  Vere,"  he  replied,  "  that  when,  in  your 


110  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

humanity,  you  asked  me  to  interfere  with  your  f atner  m  favor 
of  Haswell  and  his  ruined  family — when  you  requested  me  to 
prevail  on  him  to  do  a  thing  most  abhorrent  to  his  nature, 
to  forgive  an  injury  and  remit  a  penalty — I  stipulated  that 
you  should  ask  me  no  questions  concerning  the  sources  of  my 
influence.  You  found  no  reason  to  distrust  me  then,  do  not 
distrust  me  now/' 

'^But  the  extraordinary  mode  of  life  of  this  man,"  said 
Miss  Vere  ;  "  his  seclusion,  his  figure,  the  deepness  of  misan- 
thropy which  he  is  said  to  express  in  his  language.  Mr.  Eat' 
cliffe,  what  can  I  think  of  him  if  he  really  possesses  the  pow- 
ers you  ascribe  to  him  ?  " 

'-  This  man,  young  lady,  was  bred  a  Catholic,  a  sect  which 
affords  a  thousand  instances  of  those  who  have  retired  from 
power  and  affluence  to  voluntary  privations  more  strict  even 
than  his." 

*^  But  he  avows  no  religious  motive,'^  replied  Miss  Vere. 

'^N"o,"  replied  Eatcliffe ;  "disgust  with  the  world  has 
operated  his  retreat  from  it  without  assuming  the  veil  of 
superstition.  Thus  far  I  may  tell  you — he  was  born  to  great 
wealth,  which  his  parents  designed  should  become  greater  by 
his  union  with  a  kinswoman,  whom  for  that  purpose  they  bred 
up  in  their  own  house.  You  have  seen  his  figure ;  judge 
what  the  young  lady  must  have  thought  of  the  lot  to  which 
she  was  destined.  Yet,  habituated  to  his  appearance,  she 
showed  no  reluctance,  and  the  friends  of — of  the  person  whom 
I  speak  of,  doubted  not  that  the  excess  of  his  attachment,  the 
various  acquisitions  of  his  mind,  his  many  and  amiable  quali- 
ties, had  overcome  the  natural  horror  which  his  destined  bridt 
must  have  entertained  at  an  exterior  so  dreadfully  inau- 
spicious." 

''  And  did  they  judge  truly  ?  "  said  Isabella. 

"  You  shall  hear.  He,  at  least,  was  fully  aware  of  his 
own  deficiency  ;  the  sense  of  it  haunted  him  like  a  phantom. 
'  I  am,'  was  his  own  expression  to  me — I  mean  to  a  man  whom 
he  trusted — '  I  am,  in  spite  of  what  you  would  say,  a  poor 
miserable  outcast,  fitter  to  have  been  smothered  in  the  cradle 
than  to  have  been  brought  up  to  scare  the  world  in  which  I 
crawl.'  The  person  whom  he  addressed  in  vain  endeavored 
to  impress  him  with  the  indifference  to  external  form  which 
is  the  natural  result  of  philosophy,  or  entreat  him  to  recall 
the  superiority  of  mental  talents  to  the  more  attractive  at- 
tributes that  are  merely  personal.  '  I  hear  you,'  he  would 
reply;  *but  you  speak  the  voice  of  cold-blooded  stoicism,  or, 
at  least,  of  fnendly  partiality.     But  look  at  every  book  which 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  til 

we  have  read,  those  excepted  of  that  abstract  philosophy  which 
feels  no  responsive  voice  in  our  natural  feelings.  Is  not 
personal  form,  such  as  at  least  can  be  tolerated  without  horror 
and  disgust,  always  represented  as  essential  to  our  ideas  of  a 
friend,  far  more  a  lover  ?  Is  not  such  a  misshapen  monster 
as  I  am  excluded,  by  the  very  fiat  of  Nature,  from  her  fairest 
enjoyments  ?  What  but  my  wealth  prevents  all — perhaps 
even  Letitia  or  you — from  shunning  me  as  something  foreign 
to  your  nature,  and  more  odious  by  bearing  that  distorted 
resemblance  to  humanity  which  we  observe  in  the  animal 
tribes  that  are  more  hateful  to  man  because  they  seem  his 
caricature  ?  ^ " 

''  You  repeat  the  sentiments  of  a  madman,'*  said  Miss  Vere. 

''No,"  replied  her  conductor,  ''unless  a  morbid  and 
excessive  sensibility  on  such  a  subject  can  be  termed  insanity. 
Yet  I  will  not  deny  that  this  governing  feeling  and  appre- 
hension carried  the  person  who  entertained  it  to  lengths  which 
indicated  a  deranged  imagination.  He  appeared  to  think 
that  it  was  necessary  for  him,  by  exuberant  and  not  always 
well-chosen  instances  of  liberality,  and  even  profusion,  to 
unite  himself  to  the  human  race,  from  which  he  conceived 
himself  naturally  dissevered.  The  benefits  which  he  bestowed, 
from  a  disposition  naturally  philanthropical  in  an  uncommon 
degree,  were  exaggerated  by  the  influence  of  the  goading 
reflection  that  more  was  necessary  from  him  than  from  others- 
lavishing  his  treasures  as  if  to  bribe  mankind  to  receive  him 
into  their  class.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the 
bounty  which  flowed  from  a  source  so  capricious  was  often 
abused,  and  his  confidence  frequently  betrayed.  These  dis- 
appointments, which  occur  to  all,  more  or  less,  and  most  to 
such  as  confer  benefits  without  just  discrimination,  his  diseased 
fancy  set  down  to  the  hatred  and  contempt  excited  by  his 
personal  deformity.     But  I  fatigue  you.  Miss  Vere  ?" 

"  No,  by  no  means  ;  I — I  could  not  prevent  my  attention 
from  wandering  an  instant  ;  pray  proceed." 

"  He  became  at  length,"  continued  Katcliffe,  "  the  most 
ingenious  self-tormentor  of  whom  I  have  ever  heard;  the 
scoff  of  the  rabble,  and  the  sneer  of  the  yet  more  brutal 
vulgar  of  his  own  rank,  was  to  him  agony  and  breaking  on 
the  wheel.  He  regarded  the  laugh  of  the  common  people 
whom  he  passed  on  the  street,  and  the  suppressed  titter,  or 
yet  more  offensive  terror,  of  the  young  girls  to  whom  he  was 
introduced  in  company,  as  proofs  of  the  true  sense  which  the 
world  entertained  of  him,  as  a  prodigy  unfit  to  be  received 
among  them  on  the  usual  terms  of  society,  and  as  vindicating 


112  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  wisdom  of  his  purpose  in  withdrawing  himself  from 
among  them.  On  the  faith  and  sincerity  of  two  persons  alone 
he  seemed  to  rely  implicitly — on  that  of  his  betrothed  bride 
and  (Si  a  friend  eminently  gifted  in  personal  accomplishments, 
who  seemed,  and  indeed  probably  was,  sincerely  attached  to 
him.  He  ought  to  have  been  so  at  least,  for  he  was  literally 
loaded  with  benefits  by  him  whom  you  are  now  about  to  see. 
The  parents  of  the  subject  of  my  story  died  within  a  short 
space  of  each  other.  Their  death  postponed  the  marriage,  for 
which  the  day  had  been  fixed.  The  lady  did  not  seem  greatly 
to  mourn  this  delay,  perhaps  that  was  not  to  have  been  ex- 
pected ;  but  she  intimated  no  change  of  intention  when, 
after  a  decent  interval,  a  second  day  was  named  for  their 
union.  The  friend  of  whom  I  spoke  was  then  a  constant 
resident  at  the  Hall.  In  an  evil  hour,  at  the  earnest  request 
and  entreaty  of  this  friend,  they  joined  a  general  party, 
where  men  of  different  political  opinions  were  mingled,  and 
where  they  drank  deep.  A  quarrel  ensued ;  the  friend  of 
the  Recluse  drew  his  sword  with  others,  and  was  thrown 
down  and  disarmed  by  a  more  powerful  antagonist.  They 
fell  in  the  struggle  at  the  feet  of  the  Eecluse,  who,  maimed 
and  truncated  as  his  form  appears,  possesses,  nevertheless, 
great  strength,  as  well  as  violent  passions.  He  caught  up  a 
sword,  pierced  the  heart  of  his  friend's  antagonist,  was  tried, 
and  his  life,  with  difficulty,  redeemed  from  justice  at  the 
expense  of  a  year's  close  imprisonment,  the  punishment  of 
manslaughter.  The  incident  affected  him  most  deeply,  the 
more  that  the  deceased  was  a  man  of  excellent  character,  and 
had  sustained  gross  insult  and  injury  ere  he  drew  his  sword. 
I  think,  from  that  moment,  I  observed — I  beg  pardon — the 
fits  of  morbid  sensibility  which  had  tormented  this  unfortu- 
nate gentleman  were  rendered  henceforth  more  acute  by 
remorse,  which  he,  of  all  men,  was  least  capable  of  having 
incurred,  or  of  sustaining  when  it  became  his  unhappy  lot. 
His  paroxysms  of  agony  could  not  be  concealed  from  the  lady 
to  whom  he  was  betrothed  ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  they 
were  of  an  alarming  and  fearful  nature.  He  comforted  him- 
self that,  at  the  expiry  of  his  imprisonment,  he  could  form 
with  his  wife  and  friend  a  society,  encircled  by  which  he 
might  dispense  with  more  extensive  communication  with  the 
world.  He  was  deceived  ;  before  that  term  elapsed  his  friend 
and  his  betrothed  bride  were  man  and  wife.  The  effects 
of  a  shock  so  dreadful  on  an  ardent  temperament,  a  disposition 
already  soured  by  bitter  remorse,  and  loosened  by  the  indul- 
gence of  a  gloomy  imagination  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  I 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  113 

cannot  describe  to  you  ;  it  was  as  if  the  last  cable  at  which 
the  vessel  rode  had  suddenly  parted,  and  left  her  abandoned 
to  all  the  wild  fury  of  the  tempest.  He  was  placed  under 
medical  restraint  as  a  lunatic.  As  a  temporary  measure  this 
might  have  been  justifiable ;  but  his  hard-hearted  friend, 
who,  in  consequence  of  his  marriage,  was  now  his  nearest 
ally,  prolonged  his  confinement  in  order  to  enjoy  the  m.an- 
agement  of  his  immense  estates.  There  was  one  who  owed  his 
all  to  the  sufferer,  an  humble  friend,  but  grateful  and  faith- 
ful. By  unceasing  exertion  and  repeated  invocation  of 
justice,  he  at  length  succeeded  in  obtaining  his  i^atron's  free- 
dom and  reinstatement  in  the  management  of  his  own  prop- 
erty, to  which  was  soon  added  that  of  his  intended  bride, 
who  having  died  without  male  issue,  her  estates  reverted  to 
him,  as  heir  of  entail.  But  freedom  and  wealth  were  unable 
to  restore  the  equipoise  of  his  mind  :  to  the  former  his  grief 
made  him  indifferent ;  the  latter  only  served  him  as  far  as  it 
afforded  him  the  means  of  indulging  his  strange  and  way- 
ward fancy.  He  had  renounced  the  Catholic  religion,  but 
perhaps  some  of  its  doctrines  continued  to  influence  a  mind 
over  which  remorse  and  misanthropy  now  assumed,  in  appear- 
ance, an  unbounded  authority.  His  life  has  since  been  that 
alternately  of  a  pilgrim  and  a  hermit,  suffering  the  most 
severe  privations,  not  indeed  in  ascetic  devotion,  but  in  abhor- 
rence of  mankind.  Yet  no  man's  words  and  actions  have 
been  at  such  a  wide  difference,  nor  has  any  hypocritical 
wretch  ever  been  more  ingenious  in  assigning  good  motives 
for  his  vile  actions  than  this  unfortunate  in  reconciling  to 
his  abstract  principles  of  misanthropy  a  conduct  which  flows 
from  his  natural  generosity  and  kindness  of  feeling." 

'•  Still,  Mr.  Eatcliffe — still  you  describe  the  inconsistencies 
of  a  madman. '^ 

"  By  no  means,"  replied  Eatcliffe.  '*  That  the  imagina- 
tion of  this  gentleman  is  disordered,  I  will  not  pretend  to  dis- 
pute ;  I  have  already  told  you  that  it  has  sometimes  broken 
out  into  paroxysms  approaching  to  real  mental  alienation. 
But  it  is  of  his  common  state  of  mind  that  I  speak  ;  it  is  ir- 
regular, but  not  deranged  ;  the  shades  are  as  gradual  as  those 
that  divide  the  light  of  noonday  from  midnight.  The 
courtier  who  ruins  his  fortune  for  the  attainment  of  a  title 
which  can  do  him  no  good,  or  power  of  which  he  can  make 
no  suitable  or  creditable  use,  the  miser  who  hoards  his  useless 
wealth,  and  the  prodigal  who  squanders  it,  are  all  marked 
with  a  certain  shade  of  insanity.  To  criminals  who  are 
guilty  of  enormities,  when  the  temptation,  to  a  sober  mind, 


114  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

bears  no  proportion  to  the  horror  of  the  act,  or  the  probabil- 
ity of  detection  and  punishment,  the  same  observation  applies  ; 
and  every  violent  passion,  as  well  as  anger,  may  be  termed 
a  short  madness/^ 

*'  This  may  be  all  good  philosophy,  Mr.  Katcliffe,''  an- 
swered Miss  Vere ;  "  but,  excuse  me,  it  by  no  means  em- 
boldens me  to  visit  at  this  late  hour  a  person  whose 
extravagance  of  imagination  you  yourself  can  only  palliate." 

"  Eather,  then,"  said  Ratcliffe,  "  receive  my  solemn  as- 
surances that  you  do  not  incur  the  slightest  danger.  But 
what  I  have  been  hitherto  afraid  to  mention  for  fear  of 
alarming  you  is,  that  now  when  we  are  within  sight  of  his  re- 
treat, for  I  can  discover  it  through  the  twilight,  I  must  go  no 
farther  with  you  ;  you  must  proceed  alone." 

*' Alone?    I  dare  not." 

"  You  must,"  continued  Ratcliffe.  "  I  will  remain  here 
and  wait  for  you." 

''You  will  not,  then,  stir  from  this  place,"  said  Miss  Vere  ; 
"yet  the  distance  is  so  great,  you  could  not  hear  me  were  I  to 
cry  for  assistance." 

'*  Fear  nothing,"  said  her  guide  ;  "or  observe,  at  least, 
the  utmost  caution  in  stifling  every  expression  of  timidity. 
Remember  that  his  predominant  and  most  harassing  appre- 
hension arises  from  a  consciousness  of  the  hideousness  of  his 
appearance.  Your  path  lies  straight  beside  yon  half-fallen 
willow  ;  keep  the  left  side  of  it,  the  marsh  lies  on  the  right. 
Farewell  for  a  time.  Remember  the  evil  you  are  threatened 
with,  and  let  it  overcome  at  once  your  fears  and  scruples." 

"  Mr.  Ratcliffe,"  said  Isabella,  "farewell ;  if  you  have  de- 
ceived one  so  unfortunate  as  myself,  you  have  cruelly  wronged 
her,  and  forever  forfeited  the  fair  character  for  probity  and 
honor  to  which  I  have  trusted." 

"  On  my  life — on  my  soul,"  continued  Ratcliffe,  raising 
his  voice  as  the  distance  between  them  increased,  "  you  are 
safe — perfectly  safe." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

*Twas  time  and  griefs 
That  framed  him  thus.    Time,  with  his  fairer  hand, 
Offering  the  fortunes  of  his  former  days, 
The  former  man  may  make  him.     Bring  us  to  him, 
And  chance  it  as  it  may. 

Old  Play, 

The  sounds  of  Ratcliffe's  voice  had  died  on  Isabella's  ear ; 
but,  as  she  frequently  looked  back,  it  was  some  encourage- 
ment to  her  to  discern  his  form,  now  darkening  in  the 
gloom.  Ere,  however,  she  went  much  farther,  she  lost  the 
object  in  the  increasing  shade.  The  last  glimmer  of  the 
twilight  placed  her  before  the  hut  of  the  Solitary.  She  twice 
extended  her  hand  to  the  door,  and  twice  she  withdrew  it ; 
and  when  she  did  at  length  make  the  effort,  the  knock  did 
not  equal  in  violence  the  throb  of  her  own  bosom;  Her  next 
effort  was  louder ;  her  third  was  reiterated,  for  the  fear  of 
not  obtaining  the  protection  from  which  Ratcliffe  promised 
so  much  began  to  overpower  the  terrors  of  his  presence  from 
whom  she  was  to  request  it.  At  length,  as  she  still  received 
no  answer,  she  repeatedly  called  upon  the  Dwarf  by  his  as- 
sumed name,  and  requested  him  to  answer  and  open  to  her. 

^*What  miserable  being  is  reduced,"  said  the  appalling 
voice  of  the  Solitary,  ^'  to  seek  refuge  here  ?  Go  hence ; 
when  the  heath-fowl  need  shelter,  they  seek  it  not  in  the 
nest  of  the  night-raven." 

"I  come  to  you,  father,"  said  Isabella,  "in  my  hour  of 
adversity,  even  as  you  yourself  commanded,  when  you  prom- 
ised your  heart  and  your  door  should  be  open  to  my  distress ; 
but  1  fear " 

"  Ha  !"  said  the  Solitary,  "then  thou  art  Isabella  Vere  ? 
Give  me  a  token  that  thou  art  she." 

"I  have  brought  you  back  the  rose  which  you  gave  me  ; 
it  has  not  had  time  to  fade  ere  the  hard  fate  you  foretold  has 
come  upon  me  ! " 

"And  if  thou  hast  thus  redeemed  thy  pledge,"  said  the 
Dwarf,  "  I  will  not  forfeit  mine.  The  heart  and  the  door 
that  are  shut  against  every  other  earthly  being  shall  be  open 
to  thee  and  to  thy  sorrows." 

m 


11«  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

She  heard  him  move  in  his  hut,  and  presently  afterwards 
strike  a  light.  One  by  one,  bolt  and  bar  were  then  with- 
drawn, the  heart  of  Isabella  throbbing  higher  as  these  obsta- 
cles to  their  meeting  were  successfully  r/^moved.  The  door 
opened  and  the  Solitary  stood  before  her,  his  uncouth  form 
and  features  illuminated  by  the  iron  lamp  which  he  held  in 
his  hand. 

"Enter,  daughter  of  affliction,^'  he  said — "enter  the 
house  of  misery. '^ 

She  entered,  and  observed,  with  a  precaution  which  in- 
creased her  trepidation,  that  the  Recluse's  first  act,  after 
setting  the  lamp  upon  the  table,  was  to  replace  the  numerous 
bolts  which  secured  the  door  of  his  hut.  She  shrank  as  she 
heard  the  noise  which  accompanied  this  ominous  operation, 
yet  remembered  Ratcliffe's  caution,  and  endeavored  to  suppress 
all  appearance  of  apprehension.  The  light  of  the  lamp  was 
weak  and  uncertain ;  but  the  Solitary,  without  taking  im- 
mediate notice  of  Isabella,  otherwise  than  by  motioning  her 
to  sit  down  on  a  small  settle  beside  the  fireplace,  made  haste 
to  kindle  some  dry  furze,  which  presently  cast  a  blaze  through 
the  cottage.  Wooden  shelves,  which  bore  a  few  books,  some 
bundles  of  dried  herbs,  and  one  or  two  wooden  cups  and  plat- 
ters, were  on  one  side  of  the  fire ;  on  the  other  were  placed 
some  ordinary  tools  of  field-labor,  mingled  with  those  used  by 
mechanics.  Where  the  bed  should  have  been,  there  was  a 
wooden  frame,  strewed  with  withered  moss  and  rushes,  the 
couch  of  the  ascetic.  The  whole  space  of  the  cottage  did  not 
exceed  ten  feet  by  six  within  the  walls  ;  and  its  only  furni- 
ture, besides  what  we  have  mentioned,  was  a  table  and  two 
stools  formed  of  rough  deals. 

Within  these  narrow  precincts  Isabella  now  found  herself 
inclosed  with  a  being  whose  history  had  nothing  to  reassure 
her,  and  the  fearful  conformation  of  whose  hideous  counte- 
nance inspired  an  almost  superstitious  terror.  He  occupied 
the  seat  opposite  to  her,  and,  dropping  his  huge  and  shaggy 
eyebrows  over  his  piercing  black  eyes,  gazed  at  her  in  silence, 
as  if  agitated  by  a  variety  of  contending  feelings.  On  the 
other  side  sat  Isabella,  pale  as  death,  her  long  hair  uncurled 
by  the  evening  damps,  and  falling  over  her  shoulders  and 
breast,  as  the  wet  streamers  droop  from  the  mast  when  the 
storm  has  passed  away  and  left  the  vessel  stranded  on  the 
beach.  The  Dwarf  first  broke  the  silence  with  the  sudden, 
abrupt,  and  alarming  question —  "  Woman,  what  evil  fate  has 
brought  thee  hither  ? '' 

"  My  father's  danger  and  your  own  command,"  she  re- 
plied faintly,  but  firacu^« 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  117 

"  And  yon  hope  for  aid  from  me  ?  " 

''  If  yon  can  bestow  it/'  she  replied,  still  in  the  same  tone 
of  mild  submission. 

^^And  how  should  I  possess  that  power  ^"  continued  the 
Dwarf,  with  a  bitter  sneer.  "  Is  mine  the  form  of  aredresser 
of  wrongs  ?  Is  this  the  castle  in  which  one  powerful  enough 
to  be  sued  to  by  a  fair  suppliant  is  likely  to  hold  his  resi- 
dence ?  I  but  mocked  thee,  girl,  when  I  said  I  would  relieve 
thee.'' 

"  Then  must  I  depart  and  face  my  fate  as  I  best  may  ! " 

"No  !"  said  the  Dwarf,  rising  and  interposing  between 
her  and  the  door,  and  motioning  to  her  sternly  to  resume  her 
seat — "  no  !  you  leave  me  not  in  this  way ;  we  must  have 
farther  conference.  Why  should  one  being  desire  aid  of 
another  ?  Why  should  not  each  be  sufficient  to  itself  ?  Look 
round  you  ;  I,  the  most  despised  and  most  decrepit  on  Nature's 
common,  have  required  sympathy  and  help  from  no  one. 
These  stones  are  of  my  own  piling  ;  these  utensils  I  framed 
with  my  own  hands ;  and  with  this,"  and  he  laid  his  hand 
with  a  fierce  smile  on  the  long  dagger  which  he  always  wore 
beneath  his  garment,  and  unsheathed  it  so  far  that  the  blade 
glimmered  clear  in  the  firelight — "  with  this,"  he  pursued,  as 
he  thrust  the  weapon  back  into  the  scabbard,  "I  can,  if 
necessary,  defend  the  vital  spark  inclosed  in  this  poor  trunk 
against  the  fairest  and  strongest  that  shall  threaten  me  with 
injury." 

It  was  with  difficulty  Isabella  refrained  from  screaming 
out  aloud  ;  but  she  did  refrain. 

^'  This,"  continued  the  Recluse,  "  is  the  life  of  nature — 
solitary,  self-sufficing,  and  independent.  The  wolf  calls  not 
the  wolf  to  aid  him  in  forming  his  den  ;  and  the  vulture  in- 
vites not  another  to  assist  her  in  striking  down  her  prey." 

"  And  when  they  are  unable  to  procure  themselves  sup- 
port," said  Isabella,  judiciously  thinking  that  he  would  be 
most  accessible  to  argument  couched  in  his  own  metaphorical 
style,  "  what  then  is  to  befall  them  ?" 

"  Let  them  starve,  die,  and  be  forgotten  ;  it  is  the  common 
lot  of  humanity. " 

"  It  is  the  lot  of  the  wild  tribes  of  nature,"  said  Isabella, 
''but  chiefly  of  those  who  are  destined  to  support  themselves 
by  rapine,  which  brooks  no  partner ;  but  it  is  not  the  law  of 
nature  in  general,  even  the  lower  orders  have  confederacies  for 
mutual  defence.  But  mankind — the  race  would  perish  did 
they  cease  to  aid  each  other.  From  the  time  that  the  mother 
binds  the  child's  head  till  the  moment  that  some  kind  assist- 


118  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ant  wipes  the  death-damp  from  the  brow  of  the  dying,  we 
cannot  exist  without  mutual  help.  All,  therefore,  that  need 
aid  have  right  to  ask  it  of  their  fellow-mortals  ;  no  one  who 
has  the  power  of  granting  can  refuse  it  without  guilt. " 

"  And  in  this  simple  hope,  poor  maiden,''  said  the  Soli- 
tary, "  thou  hast  come  into  the  desert  to  seek  one  whose  wish 
it  were  that  the  league  thou  hast  spoken  of  were  broken  for- 
ever, and  that  in  very  truth  the  whole  race  should  perish  ? 
Wert  thou  not  frightened  ? '' 

''  Misery,''  said  Isabella,  firmly,  ''  is  superior  to  fear." 

''Hast  thou  not  heard  it  said  in  thy  mortal  world  that  I 
have  leagued  myself  with  other  powers,  deformed  to  the  eye 
and  malevolent  to  the  human  race  as  myself  ?  Hast  thou  not 
heard  this  ?     And  dost  thou  seek  my  cell  at  midnight  ? " 

''The  Being  I  worship  supports  me  against  such  idle 
fears,"  said  Isabella ;  but  the  increasing  agitation  of  her 
bosom  belied  the  affected  courage  which  her  words  expressed. 

"Ho!  ho!"  said  the  Dwarf,  "thou  vauntest  thyself  a 
philosopher  ?  Yet,  shouldst  thou  not  have  thought  of  the 
danger  of  intrusting  thyself,  young  and  beautiful,  in  the 
power  of  one  so  spited  against  humanity  as  to  place  his  chief 
pleasure  in  defacing,  destroying,  and  degrading  her  fairest 
works  ?  " 

Isabella,  much  alarmed,  continued  to  answer  with  firmness 
— "  Whatever  injuries  you  may  have  sustained  in  the  world, 
you  are  incapable  of  revenging  them  on  one  who  never  wronged 
you,  nor,  wilfully,  any  other." 

"  Ay,  but,  maiden,"  he  continued,  his  dark  eyes  flashing 
with  an  expression  of  malignity  which  communicated  itself  to 
his  wild  and  distorted  features,  "  revenge  is  the  hungry  wolf, 
which  asks  only  to  tear  flesh  and  lap  blood.  Think  you  the 
lamb's  plea  of  innocence  would  be  listened  to  by  him  ?  " 

"  Man  ! "  said  Isabella,  rising,  and  expressing  herself  with 
much  dignity,  "  I  fear  not  the  horrible  ideas  with  which  you 
would  impress  me.  I  cast  them  from  me  with  disdain.  Be 
you  mortal  or  fiend,  you  would  not  offer  injury  to  one  who 
sought  you  as  a  suppliant  in  her  utmost  need.  You  would 
not — ^you  durst  not. 

"  Thou  sayst  truly,  maiden,"  rejoined  the  Solitary ;  "  I 
dare  not — I  would  not.  Begone  to  thy  dwelling.  Fear  noth- 
ing with  which  they  threaten  thee.  Thou  hast  asked  my 
protection  ;  thou  shalt  find  it  effectual." 

"But,  father,  this  very  night  I  have  consented  to  wed  the 
man  that  I  abhor,  or  I  must  put  the  seal  to  my  father's  ruin." 

"  This  night  ?  at  what  hour  ?" 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  .11« 

''Ere  midnight/' 

"  And  twilight,"  said  the  Dwarf,  "  has  already  passed  away. 
But  fear  nothing,  there  is  ample  time  to  protect  thee.'' 

^'And  my  father  ?'' continued  Isabella,  in  a  suppliant 
tone. 

"Thy  father,''  replied  the  Dwarf,  "has  been,  and  is,  my 
most  bitter  enemy.  But  fear  not ;  thy  virtue  shall  save  him. 
And  now,  begone ;  were  I  to  keep  thee  longer  by  me  I  might 
again  fall  into  the  stupid  dreams  concerning  human  worth 
from  which  I  have  been  so  fearfully  awakened.  But  fear 
nothing  ;  at  the  very  foot  of  the  altar  I  will  redeem  thee. 
Adieu,  time  presses,  and  I  must  act ! " 

He  led  her  to  the  door  of  the  hut,  which  he  opened  for 
her  departure.  She  remounted  her  horse,  which  had  been 
feeding  in  the  outer  inclosure,  and  pressed  him  forward  by  the 
light  of  the  moon,  which  was  now  rising,  to  the  spot  where 
she  had  left  Eatcliffe. 

"Have  you  succeeded  ?"  was  his  first  eager  question. 

"  I  have  obtained  promises  from  him  to  whom  you  sent 
me  ;  but  how  can  he  possibly  accomplish  them  ? " 

"  Thank  God  !"  said  Eatcliffe;  "doubt  not  his  power  to 
fulfil  his  promise." 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  whistle  was  heard  to  resound  along 
the  heath. 

"Hark! "said  Eatcliffe,  "he  calls  me.  Miss  Vere,  re- 
turn home,  and  leave  unbolted  the  postern  door  of  the  gar- 
den ;  to  that  which  opens  on  the  backstairs  I  have  a  private 
key." 

A  second  whistle  was  heard,  yet  more  shrill  and  prolonged 
than  the  first. 

"I  come,  I  come,"  said  Eatcliffe;  and,  setting  spurs  to 
his  horse,  rode  over  the  heath  in  the  direction  of  the  Eecluse's 
hut.  Miss  Vere  returned  to  the  castle,  the  mettle  of  the 
animal  on  which  she  rode,  and  her  own  anxiety  of  mind,  com- 
bining to  accelerate  her  journey. 

She  obeyed  Eatcliffe's  directions,  though  without  well  ap- 
prehending their  purpose,  and,  leaving  her  horse  at  large  in 
a  paddock  near  the  garden,  hurried  to  her  own  apartment, 
which  she  reached  without  observation.  She  now  unbolted 
her  door,  and  rang  her  bell  for  lights.  Her  father  appeared 
along  ^vith  the  servant  who  answered  her  summons. 

"He  had  been  twice," he  said,  "listening  at  her  door 
during  the  two  hours  that  had  elapsed  since  he  left  her,  and, 
not  hearing  her  speak,  had  become  apprehensive  that  she  was 
taken  ill." 


190  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

''And  now,  my  dear  father,"  she  said,  ''permit  me  to 
claim  the  promise  you  so  kindly  gave  ;  let  the  last  moments  of 
freedom  which  I  am  to  enjoy  be  mine  without  interruption ; 
and  protract  to  the  last  moment  the  respite  which  is  allowed 
me. 

"  I  will,"  said  her  father ;  "  nor  shall  you  be  again  inter- 
rupted. But  this  disordered  dress — this  dishevelled  hair !  do 
not  let  me  find  you  thus  when  I  call  on  you  again  ;  the  sacri- 
fice, to  be  beneficial,  must  be  voluntary." 

"  Must  it  be  so  ?  "  she  replied  ;  "  then  fear  not,  my  father  ! 
the  victim  shall  be  adorned." 


I 


CHAPTER   XVII 

This  looks  not  like  a  nuptial* 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing, 

The  chapel  in  the  Castle  of  EUieslaw,  destined  to  be  the 
scene  of  this  ill-omened  union,  was  a  building  of  much  older 
date  than  the  castle  itself,  though  that  claimed  considerable 
antiquity.  Before  the  wars  between  England  and  Scotland  had 
become  so  common  and  of  such  long  duration  that  the  build- 
ings along  both  sides  of  the  Border  were  chiefly  dedicated  to 
warlike  purposes,  there  had  been  a  small  settlement  of  monks 
at  EUieslaw,  a  dependency,  it  is  believed  by  antiquaries,  on 
the  rich  abbey  of  Jedburgh.  Their  possessions  had  long 
passed  away  under  the  changes  introduced  by  war  and  mutual 
ravage.  A  feudal  castle  had  arisen  on  the  ruin  of  their  cells, 
and  their  chapel  was  included  in  its  precincts. 

The  edifice,  in  its  round  arches  and  massive  pillars,  the 
simplicity  of  which  referred  their  date  to  what  has  been 
called  the  Saxon  architecture,  presented  at  all  times  a  dark 
and  sombre  appearance,  and  had  been  frequently  used  as  the 
cemetery  of  the  family  of  the  feudal  lords,  as  well  as  formerly 
of  the  monastic  brethren.  But  it  looked  doubly  gloomy  by 
the  effect  of  the  few  and  smoky  torches  which  were  used  to 
enlighten  it  on  the  present  occasion,  and  which,  spreading  a 
glare  of  yellow  light  in  their  immediate  vicinity,  were  sur- 
rounded beyond  by  a  red  and  purple  halo  reflected  from  their 
own  smoke,  and  beyond  that  again  by  a  zone  of  darkness 
which  magnified  the  extent  of  the  chapel,  while  it  rendered 
it  impossible  for  the  eye  to  ascertain  its  limits.  Some  inju- 
dicious ornaments,  adopted  in  haste  for  the  occasion,  rather 
added  to  the  dreariness  of  the  scene.  Old  fragments  of 
tapestry,  torn  from  the  walls  of  other  apartments,  had  been 
hastily  and  partially  disposed  around  those  of  the  chapel,  and 
mingled  inconsistently  with  scutcheons  and  funeral  emblems 
of  the  dead,  which  they  elsewhere  exhibited.  On  each  side  of 
the  stone  altar  was  a  monument,  the  appearance  of  which 
formed  an  equally  strange  contrast.  On  the  one  was  the 
figure,  in  stone,  of  some  grim  hermit  or  monk  who  had  died 

m 


122  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  the  odor  of  sanctity  ;  he  was  represented  as  recnmbent,  in 
his  cowl  and  scapular,  with  his  face  turned  upward  as  in  the 
act  of  devotion,  and  his  hands  folded,  from  which  his  string 
of  beads  was  dependent.  On  the  other  side  was  a  tomb,  in 
the  Italian  taste,  composed  of  the  most  beautiful  statuary- 
marble,  and  accounted  a  model  of  modern  art.  It  was  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Isabella's  mother,  the  late  Mrs.  Vere  of  El- 
lieslaw,  who  was  represented  as  in  a  dying  posture,  while  a 
weeping  cherub,  with  eyes  averted,  seemed  in  the  act  of  ex- 
tinguishing a  dying  lamp  as  emblematic  of  her  speedy  dis- 
solution. It  was,  indeed,  a  masterpiece  of  art,  but  misplaced 
in  the  rude  vault  to  which  it  had  been  consigned.  Many 
were  surprised,  and  even  scandalized,  that  Ellieslaw,  not  re- 
markable for  attention  to  his  lady  while  alive,  should  erect 
after  her  death  such  a  costly  mausoleum  in  affected  sorrow  ; 
others  cleared  him  from  the  imputation  of  hypocrisy,  and 
averred  that  the  monument  had  been  constructed  under  the 
direction  and  at  the  sole  expense  of  Mr.  Katcliffe. 

Before  these  monuments  the  wedding  guests  were  assem- 
bled. They  were  few  in  number ;  for  many  had  left  the 
castle  to  prepare  for  the  ensuing  political  explosion,  and 
Ellieslaw  was,  in  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  far  from  being 
desirous  to  extend  invitations  farther  than  to  those  near  re- 
lations whose  presence  the  custom  of  the  country  rendered 
indispensable.  Next  to  the  altar  stood  Sir  Frederick  Lang- 
ley,  dark,  moody,  and  thoughtful  even  beyond  his  wont,  and 
near  him  Mareschal,  who  was  to  play  the  part  of  bridesman, 
as  it  was  called.  The  thoughtless  humor  of  this  young  gen- 
tleman, on  which  he  never  deigned  to  place  the  least  restraint, 
added  to  the  cloud  which  overhung  the  brow  of  the  bride- 
groom. 

**The  bride  is  not  yet  come  out  of  her  chamber, ''  he 
whispered  to  Sir  Frederick ;  "I  trust  that  we  must  not  have 
recourse  to  the  violent  expedients  of  the  Eomans  which  I 
read  of  at  college.  It  would  be  hard  upon  my  pretty  cousin 
to  be  run  away  with  twice  in  two  days,  though  I  know  none 
better  worth  such  a  violent  compliment.*' 

Sir  Frederick  attempted  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  this  dis- 
course, humming  a  tune  and  looking  another  way ;  but  Mare- 
schal proceeded  in  the  same  wild  manner.  *'  This  delay  is 
hard  upon  Dr.  Hobbler,  who  was  disturbed  to  accelerate 
preparations  for  this  joyful  event  when  he  had  successfully 
extracted  the  cork  of  his  third  bottle.  I  hope  you  will  keep 
him  free  of  the  censure  of  his  superiors,  for  I  take  it  this  is 
beyond  canonical  hours.     But  here  come  Ellieslaw  and  my 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  Igf 

pretty  cousin — prettier  than  ever,  I  think,  were  it  not  she 
seems  so  faint  and  so  deadly  pale.  Hark  ye.  Sir  Knight,  if 
she  says  not  yes  with  right  good-will,  it  shall  be  no  wedding, 
for  all  that  has  come  and  gone  yet." 

*'  No  wedding,  sir  ? "  returned  Sir  Frederick,  in  a  loud 
whisper,  the  tone  of  which  indicated  that  his  angry  feelings 
were  suppressed  with  difficulty. 

"No;  no  marriage,"  replied  Mareschal.  "There's  my 
hand  and  glove  onH." 

Sir  Frederick  Langley  took  his  hand,  and,  as  he  wrung  it 
hard,  said  in  a  lower  whisper,  "  Mareschal,  you  shall  answer 
this,"  and  then  flung  his  hand  from  him. 

"That  I  will  readily  do,"  said  Mareschal,  "for  never 
word  escaped  my  lips  that  my  hand  was  not  ready  to  guaran- 
tee. So,  speak  up,  my  pretty  cousin,  and  tell  me  if  it  be  your 
free  will  and  unbiassed  resolution  to  accept  of  this  gallant 
knight  for  your  lord  and  husband ;  for  if  you  have  the  tenth 
part  of  a  scruple  upon  the  subject,  fall  back,  fall  edge,  he 
shall  not  have  you." 

"Are  you  mad,  Mr.  Mareschal?"  said  Ellieslaw,  who, 
having  been  this  young  man's  guardian  during  his  minority, 
often  employed  a  tone  of  authority  towards  him.  "Do  you 
suppose  I  would  drag  my  daughter  .to  the  foot  of  the  altar, 
were  it  not  her  own  choice  ?  " 

"  Tut,  Ellieslaw,"  retorted  the  young  gentleman,  "never 
tell  me  of  the  contrary  ;  her  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  and  her 
cheeks  are  whiter  than  her  white  dress.  I  must  insist,  in  the 
name  of  common  humanity,  that  the  ceremony  be  adjourned 
till  to-morrow." 

"  She  shall  tell  you  herself,  thou  incorrigible  intermeddler 
in  what  concerns  thee  not,"  said  the  relentless  father,  "  that  it 
is  her  wish  the  ceremony  should  go  on.  Is  it  not,  Isabella, 
my  dear  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  said  Isabella,  half -fain  ting,  "  since  there  is  no  help 
either  in  God  or  man." 

The  first  word  alone  was  distinctly  audible.  Mareschal 
shrugged  up  his  shoulders  and  stepped  back.  Ellieslaw  led,  or 
rather  supported,  his  daughter  to  the  altar.  Sir  Frederick 
moved  forward  and  placed  himself  by  her  side.  The  clergy- 
man opened  his  prayer-book,  and  looked  to  Mr.  Vere  for  the 
signal  to  commence  the  service. 

"  Proceed,"  said  the  latter. 

But  a  voice,  as  if  issuing  from  tlie  tomb  of  his  deceased 
wife,  called,  in  such  loud  and  harsh  accents  as  awakened 
every  echo  in  the  vaulted  chapel,  "  Forbear  !  " 


124  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

All  were  mute  and  motionless,  till  a  distant  rustle  and  the 
clash  of  swords,  or  something  resembling  it,  was  heard  from 
the  remote  apartments.     It  ceased  almost  instantly. 

*'  What  new  device  is  this  ? ''  said  Sir  Frederick  fiercely, 
eying  EUieslaw  and  Mareschal  with  a  glance  of  malignant 
suspicion. 

"  It  can  be  but  the  frolic  of  some  intemperate  guest,"  said 
EUieslaw,  though  greatly  confounded  ;  ''  we  must  make  large 
allowances  for  the  excess  of  this  evening^s  festivity.  Proceed 
with  the  service." 

Before  the  clergyman  could  obey,  the  same  prohibition 
which  they  had  before  heard  was  repeated  from  the  same  spot. 
The  female  attendants  screamed  and  fled  from  the  chapel  ;  the 
gentlemen  laid  their  hands  on  their  swords.  Ere  the  first 
moment  of  surprise  had  passed  by,  the  Dwarf  stepped  from 
behind  the  monument,  and  placed  himself  full  in  front  of  Mr. 
Vere.  The  effect  of  so  strange  and  hideous  an  apparition  in 
such  a  place,  and  in  such  circumstances,  appalled  all  present, 
but  seemed  to  annihilate  the  Laird  of  EUieslaw,  who,  drop- 
ping his  daughter's  arm,  staggered  against  the  nearest  pillar, 
and,  clasping  it  with  his  hands  as  if  ^or  support,  laid  his  brow 
against  the  column. 

*'Who  is  this  misformed  monstCiT?"  said  Sir  Frederick  ; 
*'and  what  does  he  mean  by  this  int'-usion  ?" 

*'It  is  one  who  comes  to  tell  yoi',"  said  the  Dwarf,  with 
the  peculiar  acrimony  which  usually  marked  his  manner, 
''that  in  marrying  that  young  lady  you  wed  neither  the 
heiress  of  EUieslaw,  nor  of  Mauley  HaD,  nor  of  Polverton, 
nor  of  one  furrow  of  land,  unless  she  marries  with  my  con- 
sent ;  and  to  thee  that  consent  shall  nover  be  given.  Down 
— down  on  thy  knees,  sordid  caitiff,  and  thank  Heaven  that 
thou  art  prevented  from  wedding  qualities  with  which  thou 
hast  no  concern — portionless  truth,  virtue-  and  innocence. 
And  thou,  base  ingrate,"  he  continued,  addressing  himself  to 
EUieslaw,  ''  what  is  thy  wretched  subterfuge  row  ?  Thou, 
who  wouldst  sell  thy  daughter  to  relieve  thee  froia  danger,  as 
in  famine  thou  wouldst  have  slain  and  devoured  her  to  pre- 
serve thy  own  vile  life  !  Ay,  hide  thy  face  with  thy  hands  > 
well  mayst  thou  blush  to  look  on  him  whose  body  thou  didst 
consign  to  chains,  his  hand  to  guilt,  and  his  soul  to  misery. 
Saved  once  more  by  the  virtue  of  her  who  calls  thee  father, 
go  hence,  and  may  the  pardon  and  benefits  I  confer  on  thee 
prove  literal  coals  of  fire,  till  thy  brain  is  seared  and  scorched 
like  mine  I " 

EUieslaw  left  the  chapel  with  a  gesture  of  mute  despair. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  195 

"  Follow  him,  Hubert  Eatcliffe/^  said  the  Dwarf,  ''  and 
inform  him  of  his  destiny.  He  will  rejoice,  for  to  breathe  air 
and  to  handle  gold  is  to  him  happiness/'' 

'^  I  understand  nothing  of  all  this,^^  said  Sir  Frederick 
Langley.  ''  But  we  are  here  a  body  of  gentlemen  in  arms  and 
authority  for  King  James ;  and  whether  you  really,  sir,  be 
that  Sir  Edward  Mauley  who  has  been  so  long  supposed  dead 
in  confinement,  or  whether  you  be  an  impostor  assuming  his 
name  and  title,  we  will  use  the  freedom  of  detaining  you  till 
your  appearance  here,  at  this  moment,  is  better  accounted 
for;  we  will  have  no  spies  among  us.  Seize  on  him,  my 
friends." 

But  the  domestics  shrank  back  in  doubt  and  alarm.  Sir 
Frederick  himself  stepped  forward  towards  the  Eecluse,  as  if 
to  lay  hands  on  his  person,  when  his  progress  was  suddenly 
stopped  by  the  glittering  point  of  a  partisan,  which  the 
sturdy  hand  of  Hobbie  Elliot  presented  against  his  bosom. 

"Fll  gar  daylight  shine  through  ye  if  ye  offer  to  steer 
him!"  said  the  stout  Borderer  ;  *^  stand  back,  or  Til  strike 
ye  through  !  Naebody  shall  lay  a  finger  on  Elshie  ;  he's  a 
canny  neighborly  man,  aye  ready  to  make  a  friend  help  ;  and, 
though  ye  may  think  him  a  lamiter,  yet,  grippie  for  grippie, 
friend,  I'll  wad  a  wether  he'll  make  the  bluid  spin  frae  under 
your  nails.  He's  a  teugh  carle,  Elshie  !  he  grips  like  a  smith's 
vise." 

"What  has  brought  you  here,  Elliot  ?"  said  Mareachal ; 
"  who  called  on  you  for  interference  ?  " 

"Troth,  Mareschal  Wells,"  answered  Hobbie,  "I  am  just 
come  here,  wi'  twenty  or  thretty  mair  o'  us,  in  my  ain  nam© 
and  the  King's — or  Queen's,  ca'  they  her  ? — and  Canny 
Elshie's  into  the  bargain,  to  keep  the  peace,  and  pay  back 
some  ill-usage  EUieslaw  has  gien  me.  A  bonny  breakfast 
the  loons  gae  me  the  ither  morning,  and  him  at  the  bottom 
on't ;  and  trow  ye  I  wasna  ready  to  supper  him  up  ?  Ye 
needna  lay  your  hands  on  your  swords,  gentlemen,  the  house 
is  ours  wi'  little  din ;  for  the  doors  were  open,  and  there  had 
been  ower  muckle  punch  amang  your  folk  ;  we  took  their  swords 
and  pistols  as  easily  as  ye  wad  shiel  peacods." 

Mareschal  rushed  out,  and  immediately  re-entered  the 
chapel. 

"  By  Heaven !  it  is  true.  Sir  Frederick ;  the  house  is 
filled  with  armed  strangers,  and  our  drunken  beasts  are  all 
disarmed.     Draw,  and  let  us  fight  our  way." 

"  Binna  rash — binna  rash,"  exclaimed  Hobbie  ;  "  hear 
me  a  bit — ^hear  me  a  bit.     We  mean  ye  nae  harm ;  but,  as  ye 


126  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

are  in  arms  for  King  James,  as  ye  ca'  him,  and  the  prelates, 
we  thought  it  right  to  keep  up  the  auld  neighbor  war,  and 
stand  up  for  the  t'other  ane  and  the  Kirk  ;  but  we'll  no  hurt  a 
hair  o'  your  heads  if  ye  like  to  gang  hame  quietly.  And  it 
will  be  your  best  way,  for  there's  sure  news  come  frae  Lou- 
doun that  him  they  ca'  Bang,  or  Byng,  or  what  is't,  has  banged 
the  French  ships  and  the  new  king  aff  the  coast  however ; 
sae  ye  had  best  bide  content  wi^  auld  Nanse  for  want  of  a 
better  queen." 

Katcliffe,  who  at  this  moment  entered,  confirmed  these 
accounts  so  unfavorable  to  the  Jacobite  interest.  Sir  Fred- 
erick almost  instantly,  and  without  taking  leave  of  any  one, 
left  the  castle,  with  such  of  his  attendants  as  were  able  to 
follow  him. 

"  And  what  will  you  do,  Mr.  Mareschal  ?  "  said  Ratcliffe. 

'' Why,  faith,"  answered  he,  smiling,  '^I  hardly  know; 
my  spirit  is  too  great,  and  my  fortune  too  small,  for  me  to 
follow  the  example  of  the  doughty  bridegroom.  It  is  not  in 
my  nature,  and  it  is  hardly  worth  my  while." 

"  Well,  then,  disperse  your  men  and  remain  quiet,  and 
this  will  be  overlooked,  as  there  has  been  no  overt  act." 

"Hout,  ay,"  said  Elliot,  ^'^just  let  byganes  be  byganes, 
and  a'  friends  again  ;  deil  ane  I  bear  malice  at  but  Westburn- 
flat,  and  I  hae  gien  him  baith  a  het  skin  and  a  cauld  ane.  1 
hadna  changed  three  blows  of  the  broadsword  wi'  him  before 
he  lap  the  window  into  the  castle  moat,  and  swattered  through 
it  like  a  wild  duck.  He's  a  clever  fallow,  indeed  !  maun  kilt 
awa  wi^  ae  bonny  lass  in  the  morning  and  another  at  night, 
less  wadna  serve  him  !  but  if  he  disna  kilt  himsell  out  o'  the 
country,  I'se  kilt  him  wi'  a  tow,  for  the  Castleton  meeting's 
clean  blawn  ower  ;  his  friends  will  no  countenance  him." 

During  the  general  confusion  Isabella  had  thrown  herself 
at  the  feet  of  her  kinsman.  Sir  Edward  Mauley,  for  so  we 
must  now  call  the  Solitary,  to  express  at  once  her  gratitudcv 
and  to  beseech  forgiveness  for  her  father.  The  eyes  of  all 
began  to  be  fixed  on  them,  as  soon  as  their  own  agitation  and 
the  bustle  of  the  attendants  had  somewhat  abated.  Miss 
Vere  kneeled  beside  the  tomb  of  her  mother,  to  whose  statue 
her  features  exhibited  a  marked  resemblance.  She  held  the 
hand  of  the  Dwarf,  which  she  kissed  repeatedly  and  bathed 
with  tears.  He  stood  fixed  and  motionless,  excepting  that 
his  eyes  glanced  alternately  on  the  marble  figure  and  the  liv- 
ing suppliant.  At  length  the  large  drops  which  gathered  on 
his  eyelashes  compelled  him  to  draw  his  hand  across  them. 

"I  thought,    he  said,  "that  tears  and  I  had  done;  but 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  127 

we  shed  them  at  our  birth  and  their  spring  dries  not  until  we 
are  in  our  graves.  But  no  melting  of  the  heart  shall  dissolve 
my  resolution.  I  part  here,  at  once  and  forever,  with  all  of 
which  the  memory  [looking  to  the  tomb]  or  the  presence  [he 
pressed  Isabella's  hand]  is  dear  to  me.  Speak  not  to  me ! 
attempt  not  to  thwart  my  determination  !  it  will  avail  noth- 
ing ;  you  will  hear  of  and  see  this  lump  of  deformity  no  more. 
To  you  I  shall  be  dead  ere  I  am  actually  in  my  grave,  and 
you  will  think  of  me  as  of  a  friend  disencumbered  from  the 
toils  and  crimes  of  existence. "" 

He  kissed  Isabella  on  the  forehead,  impressed  another  kiss 
on  the  brow  of  the  statue  by  which  she  knelt,  and  left  the 
chapel,  followed  by  Ratcliffe.  Isabella,  almost  exhausted  by 
the  emotions  of  the  day^  was  carried  to  her  apartment  by  her 
women.  Most  of  the  other  guests  dispersed,  after  having 
separately  endeavored  to  impress  on  all  who  would  listen  to 
them  their  disapprobation  of  the  plots  formed  against  the 
government,  or  their  regret  for  having  engaged  in  them. 
Hobbie  Elliot  assumed  the  command  of  the  castle  for  the  night 
and  mounted  a  regular  guard.  He  boasted  not  r.  little  of  the 
alacrity  with  which  his  friends  and  he  had  obeyed  a  hasty 
summons  received  from  Elshie  through  the  faithful  Ratcliife. 
And  it  was  a  lucky  chance,  he  said,  that  on  that  very  day  they 
had  got  notice  that  Westbumflat  did  not  intend  to  keep  his 
tryst  at  Castleton,  but  to  hold  them  at  defiance ;  so  that  a 
considerable  party  had  assembled  at  the  Heughfoot  with  the 
intention  of  paying  a  visit  to  the  robber^s  tower  on  the  ensuing 
morning,  and  their  course  was  easily  directed  to  Ellieslaw 
Castle. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Last  scene  of  all. 
To  close  this  strange  eventful  history. 

As  You  Like  It 

On  the  next  morning  Mr.  Ratcliffe  presented  Miss  Vere 
with  a  letter  from  her  father,  of  which  the  following  is  the 
tenor  : 

'^My  dearest  Child, 

"  The  malice  of  a  persecuting  government  will  compel  me, 
for  my  own  safety,  to  retreat  abroad,  and  to  remain  for  some 
time  in  foreign  parts.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  accompany  or  fol- 
low me  ;  you  will  attend  to  my  interest  and  your  own  more 
effectually  by  remaining  where  you  are.  It  is  unnecessary  to 
enter  into  a  minute  detail  concerning  the  causes  of  the  strange 
events  which  yesterday  took  place.  I  think  I  have  reason  to 
complain  of  the  usage  I  have  received  from  Sir  Edward 
Mauley,  who  is  your  nearest  kinsman  by  the  mother^s  side  ; 
but,  as  he  has  declared  you  his  heir  and  is  to  put  you  in  im- 
mediate possession  of  a  large  part  of  his  fortune,  I  account  it 
a  full  atonement.  I  am  aware  he  has  never  forgiven  the 
preference  which  your  mother  gave  to  my  addresses,  instead 
of  complying  with  the  terms  of  a  sort  of  family  compact, 
which  absurdly  and  tyrannically  destined  her  to  wed  her  de- 
formed relative.  The  shock  was  even  sufficient  to  unsettle 
his  wits  (which,  indeed,  were  never  over-well  arranged),  and 
I  had,  as  the  husband  of  his  nearest  kinswoman  and  heir,  the 
delicate  task  of  taking  care  of  his  person  and  property  until 
he  was  reinstated  in  the  management  of  the  latter  by  those 
who,  no  doubt,  thought  they  were  doing  him  justice;  al- 
though, if  some  parts  of  his  subsequent  conduct  be  examined, 
it  will  appear  that  he  ought,  for  his  own  sake,  to  have  been 
left  under  the  influence  of  a  mild  and  salutary  restraint. 

*'In  one  particular,  however,  he  showed  a  sense  of  the 
ties  of  blood,  as  well  as  of  his  own  frailty  ;  for,  while  he  se- 
questered himself  closely  from  the  world,  under  various 
names  and  disj^uises,  and  insisted  on  spreading  a  report  of 
his  own  death  (m  which,  to  gratify  him,  I  willingly  acquiesced), 

4» 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  129 

he  left  at  my  disposal  the  rents  of  a  great  proportion  of  his 
estates,  and  especially  all  those  which,  having  belonged  to 
your  mother,  reverted  to  him  as  a  male  fief.  In  this  he  may 
have  thought  that  he  was  acting  with  extreme  generosity, 
while  in  the  opinion  of  all  impartial  men  he  will  only  be  con- 
sidered as  having  fulfilled  a  natural  obligation,  seeing  that, 
in  justice  if  not  in  strict  law,  you  must  be  considered  as  the 
heir  of  your  mother,  and  I  as  your  legal  administrator.  In- 
stead, therefore,  of  considering  myself  as  loaded  with  obliga- 
tions to  Sir  Edward  on  this  account,  I  think  I  had  reason 
to  complain  that  these  remittances  were  only  doled  out  to 
me  at  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who,  moreover,  exacted 
from  me  mortgages  over  my  paternal  estate  of  Ellieslaw  for  any 
sums  which  I  required  as  an  extra  advance ;  and  thus  may 
be  said  to  have  insinuated  himself  into  the  absolute  manage- 
ment and  control  of  my  property.  Or,  if  all  this  seeming 
friendship  was  employed  by  Sir  Edward  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  a  complete  command  of  my  affairs,  and  acquiring 
the  power  of  ruining  me  at  his  pleasure,  I  iff^.  myself,  I 
must  repeat,  still  less  bound  by  the  alleged  obligation. 

^'  About  the  autumn  of  last  year,  as  I  understand,  either 
his  own  crazed  imagination  or  the  accomplishment  of  some 
such  scheme  as  I  have  hinted  brought  him  down  to  this 
country.  His  alleged  motive,  it  seems,  was  a  desire  of  seeing 
a  monument  which  he  had  directed  to  be  raised  in  the 
chapel  over  the  tomb  of  your  mother.  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who  at 
this  time  had  done  me  the  honor  to  make  my  house  his  own, 
had  the  complaisance  to  introduce  him  secretly  into  the 
chapel.  The  consequence,  as  he  informs  me,  was  a  frenzy  of 
several  hours,  during  which  he  fled  into  the  neighboring 
moors,  in  one  of  the  wildest  spots  of  which  he  chose,  when  he 
was  somewhat  recovered,  to  fix  his  mansion,  and  set  up  for  a 
sort  of  country  empiric,  a  character  which,  even  in  his  best 
days,  he  was  fond  of  assuming.  It  is  remarkable  that,  in- 
stead of  informing  me  of  these  circumstances,  that  I  might 
have  had  the  relative  of  my  late  wife  taken  such  care  of  as 
his  calamitous  condition  required,  Mr.  Ratcliffe  seems  to 
have  had  such  culpable  indulgence  for  his  irregular  plans  as 
to  promise,  and  even  swear,  secrecy  concerning  them.  He 
visited  Sir  Edward  often,  and  assisted  in  the  fantastic  task  he 
had  taken  upon  him  of  constructing  a  hermitage.  Nothing 
they  appear  to  have  dreaded  more  than  a  discovery  of  their 
intercourse. 

*^  The  ground  was  open  in  every  direction  around,  and  a 
small  subterranean  cave,  probably  sepulchral,  which,  their  re- 


130  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

searches  had  detected  near  the  great  granite  pillar,  served  to 
conceal  Ratcliffe  when  any  one  approached  his  master.  I 
think  you  will  be  of  opinion,  my  love,  that  this  secrecy  must 
have  had  some  strong  motive.  It  is  also  remarkable  that, 
while  I  thought  my  unhappy  friend  was  residing  among  the 
monks  of  La  Trappe,  he  should  liave  been  actually  living  for 
many  months  in  this  bizarre  disguise  within  five  miles  of  my 
house,  and  obtaining  regular  information  of  my  most  private 
movements,  either  by  fiatcliffe  or  through  Westburnflat  or 
others,  whom  he  had  the  means  to  bribe  to  any  extent.  He 
makes  it  a  crime  against  me  that  I  endeavored  to  establish 
your  marriage  with  Sir  Frederick.  I  acted  for  the  best  ;  but 
if  Sir  Edward  Mauley  thought  otherwise,  why  did  he  not  step 
manfully  forward,  express  his  own  purpose  of  becoming  a 
party  to  the  settlements,  and  take  that  interest  which  he  is 
entitled  to  claim  in  you  as  heir  to  his  great  property  ? 

"Even  now,  though  your  rash  and  eccentric  relation  is 
somewhat  tardy  in  announcing  his  purpose,  I  am  far  from 
opposing  ^y^  authority  against  his  wishes,  although  the  person 
he  desires  you  to  regard  as  your  future  husband  be  young 
Earnscliff,  the  very  last  whom  I  should  have  thought  likely 
to  be  acceptable  to  him,  considering  a  certain  fatal  event. 
But  I  give  my  free  and  hearty  consent,  providing  the  settle- 
ments are  drawn  in  such  an  irrevocable  form  as  may  secure 
my  child  from  suffering  by  that  state  of  dependence,  and 
that  sudden  and  causeless  revocation  of  allowances,  of  which 
I  have  so  much  reason  to  complain.  Of  Sir  Frederick  Lang- 
ley,  I  augur,  you  will  hear  no  more.  He  is  not  likely  to 
claim  the  hand  of  a  dowerless  maiden.  I  therefore  commit 
you,  my  dear  Isabella,  to  the  wisdom  of  Providence  and  to 
your  own  prudence,  begging  you  to  lose  no  time  in  securing 
those  advantages  which  the  fickleness  of  your  kinsman  has 
withdrawn  from  me  to  shower  upon  you. 

"Mr.  Ratcliffe  mentioned  Sir  Edward's  intention  to  settle 
a  considerable  sum  upon  me  yearly  for  my  maintenance  in 
foreign  parts ;  but  this  my  heart  is  too  proud  to  accept 
from  him.  I  told  him  I  had  a  dear  child  who,  while  in  afflu- 
ence herself,  would  never  suffer  me  to  be  in  poverty.  I 
thought  it  right  to  intimate  this  to  him  pretty  roundly,  that, 
whatever  increase  be  settled  upon  you,  it  may  be  calculated 
so  as  to  cover  this  necessary  and  natural  encumbrance.  I 
shall  willingly  settle  upon  you  the  castle  and  manor  of  Ellies- 
law,  to  show  my  parental  affection  and  disinterested  zeal  for 
promoting  your  settlement  in  life.  Tlie  annual  interest  of 
debts  charged  on  the  estate  somewhat  exceeds  the  income. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  18t 

even  after  a  reasonable  rent  has  been  put  upon  the  mansion 
and  mains.  But  as  all  the  debts  are  in  the  person  of  Mr.  Rat- 
cliffe,  as  your  kinsman^s  trustee,  he  will  not  be  a  troublesome 
creditor.  And  here  I  must  make  you  aware  that,  though  I 
have  to  complain  of  Mr.  Eatcliife's  conduct  to  me  personally, 
I,  nevertheless,  believe  him  a  just  and  upright  man,  with 
whom  you  may  safely  consult  on  your  affairs,  not  to  mention 
that  to  cherish  his  good  opinion  will  be  the  best  way  to  retain 
that  of  your  kinsman.  Remember  me  to  Marchie.  I  hope 
he  will  not  be  troubled  on  account  of  late  matters.  I  will 
write  more  fully  from  the  Continent.  Meanwhile,  I  rest  your 
loving  father,  Richard  Verb/' 

The  above  letter  throws  the  only  additional  light  which  we 
have  been  able  to  procure  upon  the  earlier  part  of  our  story. 
It  was  Hobble's  opinion,  and  may  be  that  of  most  of  our  read- 
ers, that  the  Recluse  of  Mucklestane  Moor  had  but  a  kind  of 
a  gloaming  or  twilight  understanding  ;  and  that  he  had  nei- 
ther very  clear  views  as  to  what  he  himself  wanted  nor  was  apt 
to  pursue  his  ends  by  the  clearest  and  most  direct  means  ;  so 
that  to  seek  the  clew  of  his  conduct  was  likened  by  Hobbie  to 
looking  for  a  straight  path  through  a  common  over  which  are 
a  hundred  devious  tracks,  but  not  one  distinct  line  of  road. 

When  Isabella  had  perused  the  letter  her  first  inquiry  was 
after  her  father.  He  had  left  the  castle,  she  was  informed, 
early  in  the  morning,  after  a  long  interview  with  Mr.  Rat- 
cliffe,  and  was  already  far  on  his  way  to  the  next  port,  where 
he  might  expect  to  find  shipping  for  the  Continent. 

*'  Where  was  Sir  Edward  Mauley  ?'' 

No  one  had  seen  the  Dwarf  since  the  eventful  scene  of  the 
preceding  evening. 

''  Odd,  if  ony thing  has  befa'en  puir  Elshie,**  said  Hobbie 
Elliot,  '*  I  wad  rather  I  were  harried  ower  again.  ^' 

He  immediately  rode  to  his  dwelling,  and  the  remaining 
she-goat  came  bleating  to  meet  him,  for  her  milking  time  was 
long  past.  The  Solitary  was  nowhere  to  be  seen ;  his  door, 
contrary  to  wont,  was  open,  his  fire  extinguished,  and  the 
whole  hut  was  left  in  the  state  which  it  exhibited  on  Isabella's 
visit  to  him.  It  was  pretty  clear  that  the  means  of  conveyance 
which  had  brought  the  Dwarf  to  Ellieslaw  on  the  preceding 
evening  had  removed  him  from  it  to  some  other  place  of  abode. 
Hobbie  returned  disconsolate  to  the  castle. 

*'  I  am  doubting  we  hae  lost  Canny  Elshiefor  gudean'  o.'," 

"  You  have  indeed,^'  said  Ratcliffe,  producing  a  paper, 
which  he  put  into  Hobble's  hands ;  "but  read  that  and  you 


132  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

will  perceive  you  have  been    no  loser  by  having  known 
him." 

It  was  a  short  deed  of  gift,  by  which  ''  Sir  Edward  Mau- 
ley, otherwise  called  Elshender  the  Eecluse,  endowed  Halbert 
or  Hobbie  Elliot  and  Grace  Armstrong  in  full  property  with 
a  considerable  sum  borrowed  by  Elliot  from  him." 

Hobble's  joy  was  mingled  with  feelings  which  brought 
tears  down  his  rough  cheeks. 

*'  It's  a  queer  thing,"  he  said  ;  "but  I  canna  joy  in  the  gear 
unless  I  kend  the  puir  body  was  happy  that  gave  it  me." 

*'  Next  to  enjoying  happiness  ourselves,"  said  Eatcliffe, 
*'is  the  consciousness  of  having  bestowed  it  on  others.  Had 
all  my  master's  benefits  been  conferred  like  the  present,  what 
a  different  return  would  they  have  produced  !  But  the  indis- 
criminate profusion  that  would  glut  avarice  or  supply  prodi- 
gality neither  does  good  nor  is  rewarded  by  gratitude.  It  is 
sowing  the  wind  to  reap  the  whirlwind." 

''And  that  wad  be  a  light  har'st,"  said  Hobbie  ;  **but,  wi* 
my  young  leddie's  leave,  I  wad  fain  take  down  Elshie's  skeps 
o'  bees  and  set  them  in  Grace's  bit  flower-yard  at  the  Heugh- 
foot :  they  shall  ne'er  be  smeekit  by  ony  o'  huz.  And  the  puir 
goat,  she  would  be  negleckit  about  a  great  toun  like  this  ; 
and  she  could  feed  bonnily  on  our  lily  lea  by  the  burn  side, 
and  the  hounds  wad  ken  her  in  a  day's  time  and  never  fash 
her,  and  Grace  wad  milk  her  ilka  morning  wi'  her  ain  hand, 
for  Elshie's  sake  ;  for,  though  he  was  thrawn  and  cankered 
in  his  converse,  he  likeit  dumb  creatures  weel." 

Hobble's  requests  were  readily  granted,  not  without  some 
wonder  at  the  natural  delicacy  of  feeling  which  pointed  out 
to  him  this  mode  of  displaying  his  gratitude.  He  was  de- 
lighted when  Eatcliffe  informed  him  that  his  benefactor  should 
not  remain  ignorant  of  the  care  which  he  took  of  his  favorite. 

''  And  mind  be  sure  and  tell  him  that  grannie  and  the 
titties,  and,  abune  a',  Grace  and  mysell,  are  weel  and  thriving, 
and  that  it's  a'  his  doing  ;  that  canna  but  please  him,  ane  wad 
think." 

And  Elliot  and  the  family  at  Heughf  oot  were,  and  continued 
to  be,  as  fortunate  and  happy  as  his  undaunted  honesty,  ten- 
derness, and  gallantry  so  well  merited. 

All  bar  between  the  marriage  of  Earnscliff  and  Isabella  was 
now  removed,  and  the  settlements  which  Eatcliffe  produced  on 
the  part  of  Sir  Edward  Mauley  might  have  satisfied  the 
cupidity  of  Ellieslaw  himself.  But  Miss  Vere  and  Eatcliffe 
thought  it  unnecessary  to  mention  to  Earnscliff  that  one  great 
motive  of  Sir  Edward,  in  thus  loading  the  young  pair  with 


THE  BLACK  DWARF  133 

benefits,  was  to  expiate  his  having,  many  years  before,  shed 
the  blood  of  his  father  in  a  hasty  brawl.  If  it  be  true,  as 
Ratcliffe  asserted,  that  the  Dwarf's  extreme  misanthropy 
seemed  to  relax  somewhat  under  the  consciousness  of  having 
diffused  happiness  among  so  many,  the  recollection  of  this 
circumstance  might  probably  be  one  of  his  chief  motives  for 
refusing  obstinately  ever  to  witness  their  state  of  contentment. 

Mareschal  hunted,  shot,  and  drank  claret,  tired  of  the 
country,  went  abroad,  served  three  campaigns,  came  home, 
and  married  Lucy  Ilderton. 

Years  fled  over  the  heads  of  Earnscliff  and  his  wife,  and 
found  and  left  them  contented  and  happy.  The  scheming 
ambition  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley  engaged  him  in  the  un- 
fortunate insurrection  of  1715.  He  was  made  prisoner  at 
Preston,  in  Lancashire,  with  the  Earl  of  Derwentwater  and 
others.  His  defence,  and  the  dying  speech  which  he  made  at 
his  execution,  may  be  found  in  the  State  Trials.  Mr.  Vere, 
supplied  by  his  daughter  with  an  ample  income,  continued  to 
reside  abroad,  engaged  deeply  in  the  affair  of  Law's  bank 
during  the  regency  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  was  at  one 
time  supposed  to  be  immensely  rich.  But,  on  the  bursting  of 
that  famous  bubble,  he  was  so  much  chagrined  at  being  again 
reduced  to  a  moderate  annuity  (although  he  saw  thousands  of 
his  companions  in  misfortune  absolutely  starving)  that  vexa- 
tion of  mind  brought  on  a  paralytic  stroke,  of  which  he  died, 
after  lingering  under  its  effects  a  few  weeks. 

Willie  of  Westburnflat  fled  from  the  wrath  of  Hobbie 
Elliot,  as  his  betters  did  from  the  pursuit  of  the  law.  His 
patriotism  urged  him  to  serve  his  country  abroad,  while  his 
reluctance  to  leave  his  native  soil  pressed  him  rather  to  remain 
in  the  beloved  island  and  collect  purses,  watches,  and  rings 
on  the  highroads  at  home.  Fortunately  for  him,  the  first 
impulse  prevailed,  and  he  Joined  the  army  under  Marlborough ; 
obtained  a  commission,  to  which  he  was  recommended  by  his 
services  in  collecting  cattle  for  the  commissariat ;  returned 
home  after  many  years  with  some  money  (how  come  by. 
Heaven  only  knows)  ;  demolished  the  peel-house  at  West- 
burnflat and  built  in  its  stead  a  high  narrow  "onstead''  of 
three  stories,  with  a  chimney  at  each  end ;  drank  brandy  with 
the  neighbors  whom  in  his  younger  days  he  had  plundered  ; 
died  in  his  bed,  and  is  recorded  upon  his  tombstone  at  Kirk- 
whistle  (still  extant)  as  having  played  all  the  parts  of  a  brave 
soldier,  a  discreet  neighbor,  and  a  singular  Christian,  being 
epithets  which  the  village  sculptor  had  at  command  of  any 
person  who  ordered  a  tombstone  of  his  manufacture. 


134  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Mr.  Ratcliffe  resided  usually  with  the  family  at  Ellieslaw, 
but  regularly  every  spring  and  autumn  he  absented  himself 
for  about  a  month.  On  the  direction  and  purpose  of  his 
periodical  journey  he  remained  steadily  silent ;  but  it  was  well 
understood  that  he  was  then  in  attendance  on  his  unfortunate 
patron.  At  length,  on  his  return  from  one  of  these  visits, 
his  grave  countenance  and  deep  mourning  dress  announced  to 
the  Ellieslaw  family  that  their  benefactor  was  no  more.  Sir 
Edward's  death  made  no  addition  to  their  fortune,  for  he  had 
divested  himself  of  his  property  during  his  lifetime,  and 
chiefly  in  their  favor.  Eatcliffe,  his  sole  confidant,  died  at  a 
good  old  age,  but  without  ever  naming  the  place  to  which  his 
master  had  finally  retired,  or  the  manner  of  his  death,  or  the 
place  of  his  burial.  It  was  supposed  that  on  all  these  particu- 
lars his  patron  had  enjoined  him  strict  secrecy. 

The  sudden  disappearance  of  Elshie  from  his  extraordi- 
nary hermitage  corroborated  the  reports  which  the  common 
people  had  spread  concerning  him.  Many  believed  that, 
having  ventured  to  enter  a  consecrated  building,  contrary  to 
his  paction  with  the  Evil  One,  he  had  been  bodily  carried  off 
while  on  his  return  to  his  cottage  ;  but  most  are  of  opinion 
that  he  only  disappeared  for  a  season,  and  continues  to  be 
seen  from  time  to  time  among  the  hills.  And  retaining, 
according  to  custom,  a  more  vivid  recollection  of  his  wild  and 
desperate  language  than  of  the  benevolent  tendency  of  most 
of  his  actions,  he  is  usually  identified  with  the  malignant 
demon  called  the  Man  of  the  Moors,  whose  feats  were  quoted 
by  Mrs.  Elliot  to  her  grandsons  ;  and,  accordingly,  is  generally 
represented  as  bewitching  the  sheep,  causing  the  ewes  to 
"  keb,''  that  is,  to  cast  their  lambs,  or  seen  loosening  the  im- 
pending wreath  of  snow  to  precipitate  its  weight  on  such  as 
take  shelter  during  the  storm  beneath  the  bank  of  a  torrent 
or  under  the  shelter  of  a  deep  glen.  In  short,  the  evils 
most  dreaded  and  deprecated  by  the  inhabitants  of  that 
pastoral  country  are  ascribed  to  the  agency  of  the  Black 

UWARF. 


BJTD  OF  THE  BLACK  DWAKF 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 


INTEODUCTION  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 
/ 

The  Legend  of  Montrose  was  written  chiefly  with  a  view  to 
place  before  the  reader  the  melancholy  fate  of  John  Lord 
Kilpont,  eldest  son  of  William  Earl  of  Airth  and  Menteith, 
and  the  singular  circumstances  attending  the  birth  and  his- 
tory of  James  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich,  by  whose  hand  the  un- 
fortunate nobleman  fell. 

Our  subject  leads  us  to  talk  of  deadly  feuds,  and  we  must 
begin  with  one  still  more  ancient  than  that  to  which  our  story 
relates.  During  the  reign  of  James  IV.  a  great  feud  between 
the  powerful  families  of  Drummond  and  Murray  divided 
Perthshire.  The  former,  being  the  most  numerous  and  pow- 
erful, cooped  up  eight  score  of  the  Murrays  in  the  kirk  of 
Monivaird  and  set  fire  to  it.  The  wives  and  the  children  of 
the  ill-fated  men,  who  had  also  found  shelter  in  the  church, 
perished  by  the  same  conflagration.  One  man,  named  David 
Murray,  escaped  by  the  humanity  of  one  of  the  Drummonds, 
who  received  him  in  his  arms  as  he  leaped  from  among  the 
flames.  As  King  James  IV.  ruled  with  more  activity  than 
most  of  his  predecessors,  this  cruel  deed  was  severely  re- 
venged, and  several  of  the  perpetrators  were  beheaded  at 
Stirling.  In  consequence  of  the  prosecution  against  his  clan, 
the  Drummond  by  whose  assistance  David  Murray  had 
escaped  fled  to  Ireland,  until,  by  means  of  the  person  whose 
life  he  had  saved,  he  was  permitted  to  return  to  Scotland, 
where  he  and  his  descendants  were  distinguished  by  the  name 
of  Drummond-Eirinich,  or  Ernoch,  that  is,  Drummond  of 
Ireland  ;  and  the  same  title  was  bestowed  on  their  estate. 

The  Drummond-Ernoch  of  James  VI.'s  time  was  a  king^s 
forester  in  the  forest  of  Glenartney,  and  chanced  to  be  em- 
ployed there  in  search  of  venison  about  the  year  1588,  or 
early  in  1589.  This  forest  was  adjacent  to  the  chief  haunts 
of  the  MacGregors,  or  a  particular  race  of  them  known  by 
the  title  of  MacEagh,  or  Children  of  the  Mist.  They  con- 
sidered the  forester^s  hunting  in  their  vicinity  as  an  ag« 


I 


138  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

gression,  or  perhaps  they  had  him  at  feud  for  the  apprehen- 
sion or  slaughter  of  some  of  their  own  name,  or  for  some 
similar  reason.  This  tribe  of  MacGrregors  were  outlawed  and 
persecuted,  as  the  reader  may  see  in  the  Introduction  to  Rob 
Boy  ;  and  every  man^s  hand  being  against  them,  their  hand 
was  of  course  directed  against  every  man.  In  short,  they 
surprised  and  slew  Drummond-Ernoch,  cut  off  his  head,  and 
carried  it  with  them,  wrapped  in  the  corner  of  one  of  their 
plaids. 

In  the  full  exultation  of  vengeance  they  stopped  at  the 
house  of  Ardvoirlich  and  demanded  refreshment,  which  the 
lady,  a  sister  of  the  murdered  Drummond-Ernoch  (her  hus- 
band being  absent),  was  afraid  or  unwilling  to  refuse.  She 
caused  bread  and  cheese  to  be  placed  before  them,  and  gave 
directions  for  more  substantial  refreshments  to  be  prepared. 
While  she  was  absent  with  this  hospitable  intention  the  bar- 
barians placed  the  head  of  her  brother  on  the  table,  filling 
the  mouth  with  bread  and  cheese,  and  bidding  him  eat,  for 
many  a  merry  meal  he  had  eaten  in  that  house. 

The  poor  woman,  returning  and  beholding  this  dreadful 
sight,  shrieked  aloud  and  fled  into  the  woods,  where,  as  de- 
scribed in  the  romance,  she  roamed  a  raving  maniac,  and  for 
some  time  secreted  herself  from  all  living  society.  Some  re- 
maining instinctive  feeling  brought  her  at  length  to  steal  a 
glance  from  a  distance  at  the  maidens  while  they  milked  the 
cows,  which  being  observed,  her  husband,  Ardvoirlich,  had 
her  conveyed  back  to  her  home  and  detained  hsr  there  till  she 
gave  birth  to  a  child,  of  whom  she  had  been  pregnant ;  after 
which  she  was  observed  gradually  to  recover  her  mental  fac- 
ulties. 

Meanwhile  the  outlaws  had  carried  to  the  utmost  their 
insults  against  the  regal  authority,  which  indeed,  as  exercised, 
they  had  little  reason  for  respecting.  They  bore  the  same 
bloody  trophy  which  they  had  so  savagely  exhibited  to  the 
lady  of  Ardvoirlich  into  the  old  church  of  Balquidder,  nearly 
in  the  centre  of  their  country,  where  the  Laird  of  MacGregor 
and  all  his  clan,  being  convened  for  the  purpose,  laid  their 
hands  successively  on  the  dead  man's  head  and  swore,  in 
heathenish  and  barbarous  manner,  to  defend  the  author  of 
the  deed.  This  fierce  and  vindictive  combination  gave  the 
Author's  late  and  lamented  friend,  Sir  Alexander  ^oswell, 
Bart. ,  subject  for  a  spirited  poem,  entitled  Cla)i- Alain's  Vow, 
which  was  printed,  but  not,  I  believe,  published,*  in  1811. f 

♦  Printed  for  private  circulation  at  Edinburgh  in  1811  CLaing^, 
t  See  Appendix  No.  I 


INTRODUCTION  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE       139 

The  fact  is  ascertained  by  a  proclamation  from  the  Privy 
Council,  dated  4tli  February,  1589,  directing  letters  of  fire 
and  sword  against  the  MacGregors.*  This  fearful  commis- 
sion was  executed  with  uncommon  fury.  The  late  excellent 
John  Buchanan  of  Cambusmore  showed  the  Author  some 
correspondence  between  his  ancestor,  the  Laird  of  Buchanan, 
and  Lord  Drummond  about  sweeping  certain  valleys  with 
their  followers,  on  a  fi:jied  time  and  rendezvous,  and  ''  taking 
sweet  revenge  for  the  death  of  their  cousin,  Drummond- 
Ernoch/'  In  spite  of  all,  however,  that  could  be  done,  the 
devoted  tribe  of  MacGregor  still  bred  up  survivors  to  sustain 
and  to  inflict  new  cruelties  and  injuries,  f 

Meanwhile  young  James  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich  grew  up 
to  manhood  uncommonly  tall,  strong,  and  active,  with  such 
power  in  the  grasp  of  his  hand  in  particular  as  could  force  the 
blood  from  beneath  the  nails  of  the  persons  who  contended 
with  him  in  this  feat  of  strength.  His  temper  was  moody, 
fierce,  and  irascible ;  yet  he  must  have  had  some  ostensible 
good  qualities,  as  he  was  greatly  beloved  by  Lord  Kilpont,  the 
eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  Airth  and  Menteith. 

This  gallant  young  nobleman  joined  Montrose  in  the  set- 
ting up  his  standard  in  1644,  just  before  the  decisive  battle 
at  Tippermuir,  on  the  1st  September  in  that  year.  At  that 
time  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich  shared  the  confidence  of  the 
young  Lord  by  day  and  his  bed  by  night,  when,  about  four 
or  five  days  after  the  battle,  Ardvoirlich,  either  from  a  fit  of 
sudden  fury  or  deep  malice  long  entertained  against  his  un- 
suspecting friend,  stabbed  Lord  Kilpont  to  the  heart,  and 
escaped  from  the  camp  of  Montrose,  having  killed  a  sentinel 
who  attempted  to  detain  him.  Bishop  Guthrie  gives  as  a 
reason  for  this  villanous  action,  that  Lord  Kilpont  had  re- 

*  See  Appendix  No.  n. 

1 1  embrace  the  oijportunity  given  me  by  a  second  mention  of  this  tribe  to 
notice  an  error  which  imputes  to  an  individual  named  Ciar  Mohr  MacGregor  the 
slaughter  of  the  students  at  the  battle  ef  Glenfruin.  I  am  informed  from  the 
authority  of  John  Gregorson,  Esq.,  that  the  chieftain  so  named  was  dead  nearly 
a  century  before  the  battle  in  question,  and  could  not,  therefore,  have  done  the 
cruel  action  mentioned.  The  mistake  does  not  rest  with  me,  as  I  disclaimed  being 
responsible  for  the  tradit  on  while  I  quoted  it,  but  with  vulgar  fame,  which  is  al- 
ways  disposed  to  ascribe  remarkable  actions  to  a  remarkable  name.  See  the  er- 
roneous passage,  Rob  Roy,  Introduction,  p.  xii  ;  and  so  soft  sleep  the  offended 
phantom  of  Dugald  Ciar  Mohr. 

It  is  with  mingled  pleasure  and  shame  that  I  record  the  more  important  error  of 
having  announced  as  deceased  my  learned  acquaintance,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Grahame, 
minister  of  Aberf oil.  See  Roh  Roy,  p.  400.  I  cannot  now  recollect  the  precise 
ground  of  my  depriving  my  learned  and  excellent  friend  of  his  existei  ce,  unless. 
Rke  Mr.  Kitk,  his  predecessor  in  the  parish,  the  excellent  Doctor  had  made  a  short 
trip  to  Fairyland,  with  whose  wonders  he  is  so  well  acquainted.  But  however  I 
mav  have  been  misled,  my  regret  is  most  sincere  for  having  spread  such  a  rumor  ; 
and  no  one  can  be  more  gratified  than  I  that  the  report,  however  I  have  been  in- 
duced to  credit  and  give  it  currency,  is  a  false  one,  and  that  Dr.  Grahame  is  stiU 
the  living  pastor  of  Aberf  oil,  for  the  delight  and  instruction  of  his  brother  anti- 
quaries. 


140  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

jected  with  abhorrence  a  proposal  of  Ardvoirlich  to  assas- 
sinate Montrose.  But  it  does  not  appear  that  there  is  any 
authority  for  this  charge,  which  rests  on  mere  suspicion. 
Ardvoirlich,  the  assassin,  certainly  did  fly  to  the  Covenant- 
ers, and  was  employed  and  promoted  by  them.  He  obtained 
a  pardon  for  the  slaughter  of  Lord  Kilpont,  confirmed  by 
Parliament  in  1644,  and  was  made  major  of  Argyle's  regiment 
in  1648.  Such  are  the  facts  of  the  tale  here  given  as  a  legend 
of  Montrose's  Wars.  The  reader  will  find  they  are  consider- 
ably altered  in  the  fictitious  narrative. 

The  Author  has  endeavored  to  enliven  the  tragedy  of  the 
tale  by  the  introduction  of  a  personage  proper  to  the  time  and 
country.  In  this  he  has  been  held  by  excellent  judges  to 
have  been  in  some  degree  successful.  The  contempt  of  com- 
merce entertained  by  young  men  having  some  pretence  to 
gentility,  the  poverty  of  the  country  of  Scotland,  the  national 
'lisposition  to  wandering  and  to  adventure,  all  conduced  to 
-ead  the  Scots  abroad  into  the  military  service  of  countries 
v7hich  were  at  war  with  each  other.  They  were  distinguished 
on  the. Continent  by  their  bravery  ;  but  in  adopting  the  trade 
of  mercenary  soldiers  they  necessarily  injured  their  national 
character.  The  tincture  of  learning  which  most  of  them 
possessed  degenerated  into  pedantry  ;  their  good  breeding  be- 
came mere  ceremonial  ;  their  fear  of  dishonor  no  longer  kept 
them  aloof  from  that  which  was  really  unworthy,  but  was 
made  to  depend  on  certain  punctilious  observances  totally 
apart  from  that  which  was  in  itself  deserving  of  praise.  A 
cavalier  of  honor  in  search  of  his  fortune  might,  for  example, 
change  his  service  as  he  would  his  shirt,  fight,  like  the  doughty 
Captain  Dalgetty,  in  one  cause  after  another  without  regard 
to  the  justice  of  the  quarrel,  and  might  plunder  the  peas- 
antry subjected  to  him  by  the  fate  of  war  with  the  most  un- 
relenting rapacity  ;  but  he  must  beware  how  he  sustained  the 
slightest  reproach,  even  from  a  clergyman,  if  it  had  regard 
to  neglect  on  the  score  of  duty.  The  following  occurrence 
will  prove  the  truth  of  what  I  mean  : 

"  Here  I  must  not  forget  the  memory  of  our  preacher,  Master 
William  Forbesse,  a  preacher  for  souldiers,  yea,  and  a  captaine  in 
neede  to  lead  souldiers  on  a  good  occasion,  being  full  of  courage,  with 
discretion  and  good  conduct  beyond  some  captaines  I  hare  knowne,* 
that  were  not  so  capable  as  he.  At  this  time  he  not  onely  prayed  for 
ufl,  but  went  on  with  us,  to  remarke,  as  I  thinke,  men's  carriage,  and 
having  found  a  Sergeant  neglecting  hisdutie  and  his  honour  at  such 
a  time  (whose  name  I  will  not  expresse),  having  chidden  him,  did 
promise  to  reveale  him  unto  me,  as  he  did  after  their  service.  The 
sergeant  being  called  before  m«  and  accused,  did  deny  his  accusa* 


INTRODUCTION  TO  4  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE       141 

tion,  alleaging,  if  he  were  no  Pastour  that  had  alleaged  it,  he  would 
not  lie  under  the  injury.  The  preacher  offered  to  fight  with  him 
[in  proof]  that  it  was  truth  he  had  spoken  of  him  ;  whereupon  I 
cashiered  the  Sergeant,  and  gave  his  place  to  a  worthier,  called 
Mongo  Gray,  a  gentleman  of  good  worth  and  of  much  courage.  The 
Sergeant  being  cashiered,  ne\^r  called  Master  William  to  account, 
for  which  he  was  evill  thought  of  ;  so  that  he  retired  home,  and  quit 
the  warres." 

The  above  quotation  is  taken  from  a  work  which  the  Au- 
thor repeatedly  consulted  while  composing  the  following 
sheets,  and  which  is  in  great  measure  written  in  the  humor 
of  Captain  Dugald  Dalgetty.  It  bears  the  following  formid- 
able title : 

"Monro  his  Expedition  with  the  worthy  Scots  Regiment  (called 
MacKeyes  Regiment),  levied  in  August  1626  by  S^-  Donald  MacKey, 
Lord  Rhees,  Colonell  for  his  Majesties  service  of  Denmark,  and  re- 
duced after  the  battaile  of  Nerling  to  one  Company,  in  September 
1634,  at  Wormes,  in  the  Paltz.  Discharged  in  severall  Duties  and 
Observations  of  service,  first,  under  the  magnanmious  King  of 
Denmark,  during  his  warres  against  the  Emperour ;  afterward 
utider  the  invincible  King  of  Sweden,  during  his  Majesties  lifetime  ; 
and  since  under  the  Directour-Generall,  the  Rex-Chancellor  Oxen- 
sterne,  and  his  Generalls.  Collected  and  gathered  together  at 
spare  hours  by  Colonell  Robert  Monro,  as  First  Lievetenant  under 
the  said  Regiment,  to  the  Noble  and  worthy  Captaine  Thomas  Mac- 
Kenyee  of  Kildon,  Brother  to  the  noble  Lord  the  Lord  Earle  of 
Seafort,  for  the  use  of  all  worthie  Cavaliers  favouring  the  laudable 
profession  of  armes.  To  which  is  annexed  the  Abridgement  of  Ex- 
ercise, and  divers  Practicall  Observations  for  the  Younger  Officer, 
his  consideration  ;  ending  with  the  Souldiers  Meditations  going  on 
Service."    London,  1637. 

Another  worthy  of  the  same  school  and  nearly  the  same 
v^iews  of  the  military  character  is  Sir  James  Turner,  a  soldier 
of  fortune,  who  rose  to  considerable  rank  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  IL,  had  a  command  in  Galloway  and  Dumfriesshire 
for  the  suppression  of  conventicles,  and  was  made  prisoner 
by  the  insurgent  Covenanters  in  that  rising  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  battle  of  Pentland.  Sir  James  is  a  person  even 
of  superior  pretensions  to  Lieutenant-Colonel  Monro,  having 
written  a  military  treatise  on  the  pike-exercise,  called  Pallas 
Arrnata.  Moreover,  he  was  educated  at  Glasgow  College, 
though  he  escaped  to  become  an  ensign  in  the  German  wars, 
instead  of  taking  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  at  that  learned 
seminary. 

In  latter  times  he  was  author  of  several  discourses  on  his- 
torical and  literary  subjects,  from  which  the  Bannatyne  Club 
have  extracted  and  printed  such  passages  as  concern  his  Life 
and  Times,  under  the  title  of  Sir  James  Turner^s  Memoirs, 


143  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

From  this  cnrious  book  I  extract  the  following  passage,  as  an 
example  of  how  Captain  Dalgetty  might  have  recorded  such 
an  incident  had  he  kept  a  journal,  or,  to  give  it  a  more  just 
character,  it  is  such  as  the  genius  of  De  Foe  would  have  de- 
vised to  give  the  minute  and  distinguishing  features  of  truth 
to  a  fictitious  narrative : 


"  Heere  I  will  set  doun  ane  accident  befell  me  ;  for  thogh  it 
not  a  very  strange  one,  yet  it  was  a  very  od  one  in  all  its  parts.  My 
tuo  brigads  lay  in  a  village  within  half  e  a  mile  of  Applebie  ;  my  oun 
quarter  was  in  a  gentleman's  house  who  was  a  Ritmaster,  and  at  that 
time  with  Sir  Marmaduke  ;  his  wife  keepd  her  chamber  readie  to  be 
brought  to  bed.  The  castle  being  over,  and  Lambert  farre  enough, 
I  resolvd  to  goe  to  bed  everie  night,  haveing  had  fatigue  enough 
before.  The  first  night  I  sleepd  well  enough  ;  and  riseing  nixt  morn- 
ing, I  misd  one  linnen  stockine,  one  halfe  silke  one,  and  one  boothose, 
the  accoustrement  under  a  boote  for  one  leg ;  neither  could  they  be 
found  for  any  search.  Being  provided  of  more  of  the  same  kind,  I 
made  myselfe  reddie  and  rode  to  the  headquarters.  At  my  returne, 
I  could  heare  no  ne  ws  of  my  stockins.  That  night  I  went  to  bed,  and 
nixt  morning  found  myselfe  just  so  used  ;  missing  the  three  stockins 
for  one  leg  onlie,  the  other  three  being  left  intire  as  they  were  the 
day  before .  A  narrower  search  then  the  first  was  made,  bot  without 
successe.  I  had  yet  in  reserve  one  paire  of  whole  stockings,  and  a 
paire  of  boothose  greater  then  the  former.  These  I  put  on  my  legs. 
The  third  morning  I  found  the  same  usage,  the  stockins  for  one  leg 
onlie  left  me.  It  was  time  for  me  then,  and  my  servants  too,  to 
imagine  it  must  be  rats  that  had  shard  my  stockins  so  equallie  with 
me  ;  and  this  the  mistress  of  the  house  knew  well  enough,  but  wold 
not  tell  it  me.  The  roome,  which  was  a  low  parlour,  being  well 
searchd  with  candles,  the  top  of  my  great  boothose  was  found  at  a 
hole,  in  which  they  had  drawne  all  the  rest.  I  went  abroad  and 
orderd  the  boards  to  be  raised,  to  see  how  the  rats  had  disposd  of 
my  moveables.  The  mistress  sent  a  servant  of  her  oune  to  be 
present  at  this  action,  which  she  knew  concernd  her.  One  board 
being  bot  a  Utle  opend,  a  litle  boy  of  mine  thrust  in  his  hand,  and 
fetchd  with  him  foure  and  tuentie  old  peeces  of  gold,  and  aneangell. 
The  servant  of  the  house  affirmd  it  appertaind  to  his  mistres.  The 
boy  bringing  the  gold  to  me,  I  went  immediatlie  to  the  gentlewoman's 
chamber,  and  told  her  it  was  probable  Lambert  haveing  quarterd 
in  that  house,  as  indeed  he  had,  some  of  his  servants  might  have  hid 
that  gold  ;  and  if  so,  it  was  lauf  ullie  mine ;  bot  if  she  could  make  it 
appeare  it  belongd  to  her,  I  sould  immediatlie  give  it  her.  The  poors 
gentlewoman  told  me  with  many  teares  that  her  husband,  being 
none  of  the  frugallest  men  (and  indeed  he  was  a  spendthrift),  she 
had  hid  that  gold  without  his  knowledge  to  make  use  of  it  as  she 
had  occasion,  especialhe  when  she  lay  in  ;  and  conjurd  me,  as  I  lovd 
the  King  (for  whom  her  husband  and  she  had  sufferd  much)  not  to 
detaine  her  gold.  She  said,  if  there  was  either  more  or  lesse  then 
foure  and  tuentie  whole  peeces  and  two  halfe  ones,  it  sould  be  none 
of  hers  ;  and  that  they  were  put  by  her  in  a  red  velvet  purse.  After 
I  had  given  her  assureance  of  her  gold,  a  new  search  is  made,  the 
other  angell  is  found,  the  velvet  purse  all  gnawd  in  bits,  as  my 
stockins  were,  and  the  gold  instantlie  restord  to  the  gentle  womaa 


INTRODUCTION  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE       U3 

t  have  often  heard  that  the  eating  or  gnauing  of  cloths  by  rats  is 
ominous,  and  portends  some  mischance  to  fall  on  these  to  whom  the 
cloths  belong.  I  thank  God  I  was  never  addicted  to  such  divinations, 
or  heeded  them.  It  is  true,  that  more  misfortuns  then  one  fell  on 
me  shortlie  after ;  bot  I  am  sure  I  could  have  better  f orseene  them 
myselfe  then  rats  or  any  such  vermine,  and  yet  did  it  not.  I  have 
heard  indeed  many  fine  stories  told  of  rats,  how  they  abandon  houses 
and  ships  when  the  first  are  to  be  burnt  and  the  second  dround.  Natu- 
ralists say  they  are  very  sagacious  creatures,  and  I  beleeve  they  are 
so  ;  bot  I  shall  never  be  of  the  opinion  they  can  forsee  future  con- 
tingencies, which  I  suppose  the  divell  himselfe  can  neither  forknow 
nor  f  ortell ;  these  being  things  which  the  Almightie  hath  keepd  hid- 
den in  the  bosome  of  His  divine  prescience.  And  whither  the  great 
God  hath  preordained  or  predestinated  these  things,  which  to  us  are 
contingent,  to  fall  out  by  ane  uncontrollable  and  unavoidable  neces- 
sitie,  is  a  question  not  yet  decided."  * 

In  quoting  these  ancient  authorities,  I  must  not  forget  the 
more  modern  sketch  of  a  Scottish  soldier  of  the  old  fashion, 
by  a  masterhand,  in  the  character  of  Lesmahagow,  since  the 
existence  of  that  doughty  captain  alone  must  deprive  the 
present  Author  of  all  claim  to  absolute  originality.  Still 
Dalgetty,  as  the  production  of  his  own  fancy,  has  been  so  far 
a  favorite  with  its  parent  that  he  has  fallen  into  the  error  of 
assigning  to  the  Captain  too  prominent  a  part  in  the  story. 
This  is  the  opinion  of  a  critic  f  who  encamps  on  the  highest 
pinnacles  of  literature  ;  and  the  Author  is  so  far  fortunate  in 
having  incurred  his  censure  that  it  gives  his  modesty  a  decent 
apology  for  quoting  the  praise,  which  it  would  have  ill  befit- 
ted him  to  bring  forward  in  an  unmingled  state.  The  passage 
occurs  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  No.  65,  containing  a  criti- 
cism on  Ivanhoe : 

"  There  is  too  much,  perhaps,  of  Dalgetty,  or,  rather,  he  engrosses 
too  great  a  proportion  of  the  work,  for,  in  himself,  we  think  he  is 
uniformly  entertaining  ;  and  the  Author  has  nowhere  shown  more 
affinity  to  that  matchless  spirit  who  could  bring  out  his  Falstaffs  and 
his  Pistols  in  act  after  act,  and  play  after  play,  and  exercise  them 
every  time  with  scenes  of  unbounded  loquacity,  without  either 
exhausting  their  humor  or  varying  a  note  from  its  characteristic 
tone,  than  in  his  large  and  reiterated  specimens  of  the  eloquence  of 
the  redoubted  Rittmaster.  The  general  idea  of  the  character  is  fa- 
miliar to  our  comic  dramatists  after  the  Restoration,  and  may  be  said 
in  some  measure  to  be  compounded  of  Captain  Fluellenand  Bobadil; 
but  the  ludicrous  combination  of  the  soldado  with  the  Divinity  stu- 
dent of  Marischal  College  is  entirely  original ;  and  the  mixture  of 
talent,  selfishness,  courage,  coarseness,  and  conceit  was  never  so 
happily  exemplified.  Numerous  as  his  speeches  are,  there  is  not 
one  that  is  not  characteristic,  and,  to  our  taste,  divertingly  ludi- 


crous. 


I 


♦Sir  James  Turner's  Memoirs,  Bannatyne  et<itiop.  p.  59 
t  Lord  Jeffrey  iLaing). 


144  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sergeant  More  M^Alpin  was,  during  his  residence  among 
us,  one  of  the  most  honored  inhabitants  of  Gandercleugh. 
No  one  thought  of  disputing  his  title  to  the  great  leathern 
chair  on  the  "  coziest  side  of  the  chimney"  in  the  common 
room  of  the  Wallace  Arms  on  a  Saturday  evening.  No  less 
would  our  sexton,  John  Duirward,  have  held  it  an  un- 
licensed intrusion  to  suffer  any  one  to  induct  himself  into  the 
corner  of  the  left-hand  pew  nearest  to  the  pulpit  which  the 
Sergeant  regularly  occupied  on  Sundays.  There  he  sat,  his 
blue  invalid  uniform  brushed  with  the  most  scrupulous  ac- 
curacy. Two  medals  of  merit  displayed  at  his  button-hole, 
as  well  as  the  empty  sleeve  which  should  have  been  occupied 
by  his  right  arm,  bore  evidence  of  his  hard  and  honorable  ser- 
vice. His  weatherbeaten  features,  his  gray  hair  tied  in  a  thin 
queue  in  the  military  fashion  of  former  days,  and  the  right 
side  of  his  head  a  little  turned  up,  the  better  to  catch  the 
sound  of  the  clergyman's  voice,  were  all  marks  of  his  profes- 
sion and  infirmities.  Beside  him  sat  his  sister  Janet,  a  little 
neat  old  woman,  with  a  Highland  curch  and  tartan  plaid, 
watching  the  very  looks  of  her  brother,  to  her  the  greatest  man 
upon  earth,  and  actively  looking  out  for  him,  in  his  silver- 
clasped  Bible,  the  texts  which  the  minister  quoted  or  ex- 
pounded. 

I  believe  it  was  the  respect  that  was  universally  paid  to 
this  worthy  veteran  by  all  ranks  in  G-andercleugh  which  in- 
duced him  to  choose  our  village  for  his  residence,  for  such 
was  by  no  means  his  original  intention. 

He  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  sergeant-major  of  artillery 
by  hard  service  in  various  quarters  of  the  world,  and  was 
reckoned  one  of  the  most  tried  and  trusty  men  of  the  Scotch 
train.  A  ball,  which  shattered  his  arm  in  a  Peninsular  cam- 
paign, at  length  procured  him  an  honorable  discharge,  with 
an  allowance  from  Chelsea  and  a  handsome  gratuity  from  the 
patriotic  fund.  Moreover,  Sergeant  More  M^Alpin*  had 
been  prudent  as  well  as  valiant ;  and,  from  prize-money  and 
savings,  had  become  master  of  a  small  sum  in  the  three  per 
cent,  consols. 

He  retired  with  the  purpose  of  enjoying  this  income  in 
the  wild  Highland  glen  in  wnich,  when  a  boy,  he  had  herded 
black  cattle  and  goats,  ere  the  roll  of  the  drum  had  made  him 
cock  his  bonnet  an  inch  higher  and  follow  its  music  for  nearly 
forty  years.     To  his  recollection  this  retired  spot  was  un- 

♦  The  character  of  Sergeant  M'Alpin  may  probably  be  founded  on  that  of  the 
Author's  old  acquaintance,  Dalgetty  of  Prestonpans,  whose  name  has  been  Im- 
mortalized in  the  Legend  of  Montrose.  See  Locknart's  Lift  of  Sc^tt,  vol.  i.,  p.  S^ 
ed.  1863  {Laing). 


INTRODUCTION  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE       145 

paralleled  in  beauty  by  the  riobest  scenes  be  bad  visited  in 
his  wanderings.  Even  the  Happy  Valley  of  Rasselas  would 
have  sunk  into  nothing  upon  the  comparison.  He  came,  he 
revisited  the  loved  scene ;  it  was  but  a  sterile  glen,  sur- 
rounded with  rude  crags  and  traversed  by  a  northern  torrent. 
This  was  not  the  worst.  The  fires  had  been  quenched  upon 
thirty  hearths ;  of  the  cottage  of  his  fathers  he  could  but 
distinguish  a  few  rude  stones  ;  the  language  was  almost  ex- 
tinguished ;  the  ancient  race  from  which  he  boasted  his  de- 
scent had  found  a  refuge  beyond  the  Atlantic.  One  South- 
land farmer,  three  gray-plaided  shepherds,  and  six  dogs  now 
tenanted  the  whole  glen,  which  in  his  youth  had  maintained 
in  content,  if  not  in  competence,  upwards  of  two  hundred  in- 
habitants. 

In  the  house  of  the  new  tenant  Sergeant  M^Alpin  found, 
however,  an  unexpected  source  of  pleasure,  and  a  means  of 
employing  his  social  affections.  His  sister  Janet  had  for- 
tunately entertained  so  strong  a  persuasion  that  her  brother 
would  one  day  return  that  she  had  refused  to  accompany  her 
kinsfolk  upon  their  emigration.  Nay,  she  had  consented, 
though  not  without  a  feeling  of  degradation,  to  take  service 
with  the  intruding  Lowlander,  who,  though  a  Saxon,  she  said 
had  proved  a  kind  man  to  her.  This  unexpected  meeting 
with  his  sister  seemed  a  cure  for  all  the  disappointments 
which  it  had  been  Sergeant  More's  lot  to  encounter,  although 
it  was  not  without  a  reluctant  tear  that  he  heard  told,  as  a 
Highland  woman  alone  could  tell  it,  the  story  of  the  expatria- 
tion of  his  kinsmen. 

She  narrated  at  great  length  the  vain  offers  they  had  made 
of  advanced  rent,  the  payment  of  which  must  have  reduced 
them  to  the  extremity  of  poverty,  which  they  were  yet  con- 
tented to  face,  for  permission  to  live  and  die  on  their  native 
soil.  Nor  did  Janet  forget  the  portents  which  had  announced 
the  departure  of  the  Celtic  race  and  the  arrival  of  the  strangers. 
For  two  years  previous  to  the  emigration,  when  the  night 
wind  howled  down  the  pass  of  Balachra,  its  notes  were  dis- 
tinctly modelled  to  the  tune  of  ''  Ha  til  mi  tulidh"  (We 
return  no  more),  with  which  the  emigrants  usually  bid  fare- 
well to  their  native  shores.  The  uncouth  cries  of  the  South- 
land shepherds  and  the  barking  of  their  dogs  were  often 
heard  in  the  mist  of  the  hills  long  before  their  actual  arrival. 
A  bard,  the  last  of  his  race,  had  commemorated  the  expulsion 
of  the  natives  of  the  glen  in  a  tune,  which  brought  tears  into 
the  aged  eyes  of  the  veteran,  and  of  which  the  first  stanza 
may  be  thus  rendered : 


146  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Woe,  woe,  son  of  the  Lowlander, 
Why  wilt  thou  leave  thine  own  honny  Border  ? 
Why  comest  thou  hither,  disturbing  the  Highlander, 
Wasting  the  glen  that  was  once  in  fair  order  ? 

What  added  to  Sergeant  More  M'Alpin's  distress  upon 
the  occasion  was,  that  the  chief  by  whom  this  change  had 
been  effected  was,  by  tradition  and  common  opinion,  held  to 
represent  the  ancient  leaders  and  fathers  of  the  expelled 
fugitives ;  and  it  had  hitherto  been  one  of  Sergeant  Morels 
principal  subjects  of  pride  to  prove  by  genealogical  deduction 
in  what  degree  of  kindred  he  stood  to  this  personage.  A 
woful  change  was  now  wrought  in  his  sentiments  towards 
him. 

*'  I  cannot  curse  him,"  he  said,  as  he  rose  and  strode 
through  the  room,  when  Janet's  narrative  was  finished — '^I 
will  not  carse  him ;  he  is  the  descendant  and  representative 
of  my  fathers.  But  never  shall  mortal  man  hear  me  name 
his  name  again."  And  he  kept  his  word  ;  for,  until  his  dying 
day,  no  man  heard  him  mention  his  selfish  and  hard-hearted 
chieftain. 

After  giving  a  day  to  sad  recollections,  the  hardy  spirit 
which  had  carried  him  through  so  many  dangers  manned  the 
Sergeant's  bosom  against  this  cruel  disappointment.  ''He 
would  go,"  he  said,  ''to  Canada  to  his  kinsfolk,  where  they 
had  named  a  Transatlantic  valley  after  the  glen  of  their 
fathers.  Janet,"  he  said,  "should  kilt  her  coats  like  a 
leaguer  lady  ;  d — n  the  distance  !  it  was  a  flea's  leap  to  the 
voyages  and  marches  he  had  made  on  a  slighter  occasion." 

"  With  this  purpose  he  left  the  Highlands,  and  came  with 
his  sister  as  far  as  Gandercleugh,  on  his  way  to  Glasgow,  to 
take  a  passage  to  Canada.  But  winter  was  now  set  in,  and, 
as  he  thought  it  advisable  to  wait  for  a  spring  passage,  when 
the  St.  Lawrence  should  be  open,  he  settled  among  us  for  the 
few  months  of  his  stay  in  Britain.  As  we  said  before,  the 
respectable  old  man  met  with  deference  and  attention  from  all 
ranks  of  society ;  and  when  spring  returned  he  was  so  satisfied 
with  his  quarters  that  he  did  not  renew  the  purpose  of  his 
voyage.  Janet  was  afraid  of  the  sea,  and  he  himself  felt  the 
infirmities  of  age  and  hard  service  more  than  he  had  at  first 
expected.  And,  as  he  confessed  to  the  clergyman  and  my 
worthy  principal,  Mr.  Cleishbotham,  "  it  was  better  staying 
with  kenned  friends  than  going  farther  and  faring  worse." 

He  therefore  established  himself  and  his  domicile  at  Gan- 
dercleugh, to  the  great  satisfaction,  as  we  have  already  said, 
of  all  its  inhabitants,  to  whom  he  became,  in  respect  or  mill- 


INTRODUCTION  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE       147 

tary  intelligence  and  able  commentaries  upon  the  newspapers, 
gazettes,  and  bulletins,  a  very  oracle,  explanatory  of  all  mar- 
tial events,  past,  present,  or  to  come. 

It  is  true,  the  Sergeant  had  his  inconsistencies.  He  was  a 
steady  Jacobite,  his  father  and  his  four  uncles  having  been  out 
in  the  forty-five  ;  but  he  was  a  no  less  steady  adherent  of  King 
George,  in  whose  service  he  had  made  his  little  fortune  and 
lost  three  brothers  ;  so  that  you  were  in  equal  danger  to  dis- 
please him  in  terming  Prince  Charles  the  Pretender  or  by  say- 
ing anything  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  King  George. 
Further,  it  must  not  be  "denied  that,  when  the  day  of  receiv- 
ing his  dividends  came  round,  the  Sergeant  was  apt  to  tarry 
longer  at  the  Wallace  Arms  of  an  evening  than  was  consistent 
with  strict  temperance,  or  indeed  with  his  worldly  interest ; 
for  upon  these  occasions  his  compotators  sometimes  contrived 
to  flatter  his  partialities  by  singing  Jacobite  songs,  and  drink- 
ing confusion  to  Bonaparte  and  the  health  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  until  the  Sergeant  was  not  only  flattered  into 
paying  the  whole  reckoning,  but  occasionally  induced  to  lend 
small  sums  to  his  interested  companions.  After  such 
'*  sprays,''  as  he  called  them,  were  over,  and  his  temper  once 
more  cool,  he  seldom  failed  to  thank  God,  and  the  Duke  of 
York,  who  had  made  it  much  more  difficult  for  an  old  soldier 
to  ruin  himself  by  his  folly  than  had  been  the  case  in  his 
younger  days. 

It  was  not  on  such  occasions  that  I  made  a  part  of  Ser- 
geant More  M'Alpin's  society.  But  often,  when  my  leisure 
would  permit,  I  used  to  seek  him  on  what  he  called  his  morn- 
ing and  evening  parade,  on  which,  when  the  weather  was  fair, 
he  appeared  as  regularly  as  if  summoned  by  tuck  of  drum. 
His  morning  walk  was  beneath  the  elms  in  the  churchyard ; 
"  for  death,"  he  said,  ^^had  been  his  next-door  neighbor  for  so 
many  years  that  he  had  no  apology  for  dropping  the  acquaint- 
ance.'' His  evening  promenade  was  on  the  bleaching-green 
by  the  river-side,  where  he  was  sometimes  to  be  seen  on  an 
open  bench,  with  spectacles  on  nose,  conning  over  the  news- 
papers to  a  circle  of  village  politicians,  explaining  military  terms 
and  aiding  the  comprehension  of  his  hearers  by  lines  drawn 
on  the  ground  with  the  end  of  his  rattan.  On  other  occasions 
he  was  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  school -boys,  whom  he  some- 
times drilled  to  the  manual,  and  sometimes,  with  less  appro- 
bation on  the  part  of  their  parents,  instructed  in  the  mystery  of 
artificial  fireworks  ;  for  in  the  case  of  public  rejoicings  the 
Sergeant  was  pyrotechnist,  as  the  encyclopaedia  calls  it,  to  the 
village  of  Gandercleugh, 


148  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

It  was  in  his  morning  walk  that  I  most  frequently  met 
with  the  veteran.  And  I  can  hardly  yet  look  upon  the  village 
footpath,  overshadowed  by  the  row  of  lofty  elms,  without 
thinking  I  see  his  upright  form  advancing  towards  me  with 
measured  step,  and  his  cane  advanced,  reaidy  to  pay  me  the 
military  salute  ;  but  he  is  dead,  and  sleeps  with  his  faithful 
Janet  under  the  third  of  those  very  trees,  counting  from  the 
stile  at  the  west  corner  of  the  churchyard. 

The  delight  which  I  had  in  Sergeant  M'Alpin's  conversa- 
tion related  not  only  to  his  own  adventures,  of  which  he  had 
encountered  many  in  the  course  of  a  wandering  life,  but  also 
to  his  recollection  of  numerous  Highland  traditions,  in  which 
his  youth  had  been  instructed  by  his  parents,  and  of  which  he 
would  in  after  life  have  deemed  it  a  kind  of  heresy  to  question 
the  authenticity.  Many  of  these  belonged  to  the  wars  of 
Montrose,  in  which  some  of  the  Sergeant's  ancestry  had,  it 
seems,  taken  a  distinguished  part.  It  has  happened  that, 
although  these  civil  commotions  reflect  the  highest  honor 
upon  the  Highlanders,  being  indeed  the  first  occasion  upon 
which  they  showed  themselves  superior,  or  even  equal,  to  their 
Low  Country  neighbors  in  military  encounters,  they  have 
been  less  commemorated  among  them  than  any  one  would 
have  expected,  judging  from  the  abundance  of  traditions 
which  they  have  preserved  upon  less  interesting  subjects.  It 
was,  therefore,  with  great  pleasure  that  I  extracted  from  my 
military  friend  some  curious  particulars  respecting  that  time  ; 
they  are  mixed  with  that  measure  of  the  wild  and  wonderful 
which  belongs  to  the  period  and  the  narrator,  but  which  I  do 
not  in  the  least  object  to  the  reader's  treating  with  disbelief, 
providing  he  will  be  so  good  as  give  implicit  credit  to  the 
natural  events  of  the  story,  which,  like  all  those  which  I  have 
had  the  honor  to  put  under  his  notice,  actually  rest  upon  a 
basis  of  truth. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 


CHAPTER  I 

Such  as  do  build  their  faith  upon 
The  holy  text  of  pike  and  gun, 
Decide  all  controversies  by 
Infallible  artillery, 
And  prove  their  doctrine  orthodox, 
By  apostolic  blows  and  knocks. 

BUTLEB. 

It  wbs  during  the  period  of  that  great  and  bloody  Civil  Wai 
which  agitated  Britain  during  the  17th  century  that  our  tale 
has  its  commencement.  Scotland  had  as  yet  remained  free 
from  the  ravages  of  intestine  war,  although  its  inhabitants 
were  much  divided  in  political  opinions  ;  and  many  of  them, 
tired  of  the  control  of  the  Estates  of  Parliament,  and  disap- 
proving of  the  bold  measure  which  they  had  adopted,  by 
sending  into  England  a  large  army  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Parliament,  were  determined  on  their  part  to  embrace  the 
earliest  opportunity  of  declaring  for  the  King,  and  making 
such  a  diversion  as  should  at  least  compel  the  recall  of  Gen- 
eral Leslie's  army  out  of  England,  if  it  did  not  recover  a 
great  part  of  Scotland  to  the  King's  allegiance.  This  plan 
was  chiefly  adopted  by  the  northern  nobility,  who  had  resisted 
with  great  obstinacy  the  adoption  of  the  Solemn  League  and 
Covenant,  and  by  many  of  the  chiefs  of  the  Highland  clans, 
who  conceived  their  interest  and  authority  to  be  connected 
with  royalty,  who  had,  besides,  a  decided  aversion  to  the  Pres- 
byterian form  of  religion,  and  who,  finally,  were  in  that  half- 
savage  state  of  society  in  which  war  is  always  more  welcome 
than  peaee. 

Great  commotions  were  generally  expected  to  arise  from 
these  concurrent  causes  ;  and  the  trade  of  incursion  and 
(icpredation  which  the  Scotch  Highlanders  at  all  times  exer- 
cised upon  the  Lowlands  began  to  assume  a  more  steady, 
avowed,  and  systematic  form,  as  part  of  a  general  military 
system. 


150  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Those  at  the  head  of  affairs  were  not  insensible  to  the 
peril  of  the  moment,  and  anxiously  made  preparations  to 
meet  and  to  repel  it.  They  considered,  however,  with  satisfac- 
tion, that  no  leader  or  name  of  consequence  had  as  yet  ap- 
peared to  assemble  an  army  of  Royalists,  or  even  to  direct  the 
efforts  of  those  desultory  bands  whom  love  of  plunder,  per- 
haps, as  much  as  political  principle  had  hurried  into  measures 
of  hostility.  It  was  generally  hoped  that  the  quartering  a 
sufficient  number  of  troops  in  the  Lowlands  adjacent  to  the 
Highland  line  would  have  the  effect  of  restraining  the  moun- 
tain chieftains ;  while  the  power  of  various  barons  in  the 
north  who  had  espoused  the  Covenant,  as,  for  example,  the 
Earl  Mareschal,  the  great  families  of  Forbes,  Leslie,  and  Ir- 
vine, the  Grants,  and  other  Presbyterian  clans,  might  coun- 
terbalance and  bridle  not  only  the  strength  of  the  Ogilvies 
and  other  cavaliers  of  Angus  and  Kincardine,  but  even  the 
potent  family  of  the  Gordons,  whose  extensive  authority  was 
only  equalled  by  their  extreme  dislike  to  the  Presbyterian 
model. 

In  the  West  Highlands  the  ruling  party  numbered  many 
enemies ;  but  the  power  of  these  disaffected  clans  w^as  sup- 
posed to  be  broken,  and  the  spirit  of  their  chieftains  intimi- 
dated, by  the  predominating  influence  of  the  Marquis  of 
Argyle,  upon  whom  the  confidence  of  the  Convention  of 
Estates  was  reposed  with  the  utmost  security  ;  and  whose 
power  in  the  Highlands,  already  exorbitant,  had  been  still 
farther  increased  by  concessions  extorted  from  the  King  at 
the  last  pacification.  It  was  indeed  well  known  that  Argyle 
was  a  man  rather  of  political  enterprise  than  personal  courage, 
and  better  calculated  to  manage  an  intrigue  of  state  than  to 
control  the  tribes  of  hostile  mountaiijeers ;  yet  the  num- 
bers of  his  clan,  and  the  spirit  of  the  gallant  gentlemen  by 
whom  it  was  led,  might,  it  was  supposed,  atone  for  the  per- 
sonal deficiencies  of  their  chief  ;  and  as  the  Campbells  had 
already  severely  humbled  several  of  the  neighboring  tribes, 
it  was  supposed  these  would  not  readily  agaiu  provoke  an 
encounter  with  a  body  so  powerful. 

Thus  having  at  their  command  the  whole  west  and  south 
of  Scotland,  indisputably  the  richest  part  of  the  kingdom — 
Fifeshire  being  in  a  peculiar  manner  their  own,  and  possess- 
ing many  and  powerful  friends  even  north  of  the  Forth  and 
Tay — the  Scottish  Convention  of  Estates  saw  no  danger  suffi- 
cient to  induce  them  to  alter  the  line  of  policy  they  had 
adopted,  or  to  recall  from  the  assistance  of  their  brethren  of 
the  English  Parliament  that  auxiliary  army  of  twenty  thou- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  151 

sand  men,  by  means  of  which  accession  of  strength  the  King's 
party  had  been  reduced  to  the  defensive,  when  in  full  career 
of  triumph  and  success. 

The  causes  which  moved  the  Convention  of  Estates  at  this 
time  to  take  such  an  immediate  and  active  interest  in  the 
Civil  War  of  England  are  detailed  in  our  historians,  but  may 
be  here  shortly  recapitulated.  They  had  indeed  no  new  injury 
or  aggression  to  complain  of  at  the  hand  of  the  King,  and  the 
peace  which  had  been  made  between  Charles  and  his  subjects 
of  Scotland  had  been  carefully  observed  ;  but  the  Scottish 
rulers  were  well  aware  that  this  peace  had  been  extorted  from 
the  King,  as  well  by  the  influence  of  the  Parliamentary  party 
in  England  as  by  the  terror  of  their  own  arms.  It  is  true. 
King  Charles  had  since  then  visited  the  capital  of  his  ancient 
kingdom,  had  assented  to  the  new  organization  of  the  church, 
and  had  distributed  honors  and  rewards  among  the  leaders  of 
the  party  which  had  shown  themselves  most  hostile  to  his 
interests ;  but  it  was  suspected  that  distinctions  so  unwillingly 
conferred  would  be  resumed  as  soon  as  opportunity  offered. 
The  low  state  of  the  English  Parliament  was  seen  in  Scotland 
with  deep  apprehension ;  and  it  was  concluded  that,  should 
Charles  triumph  by  force  of  arms  against  his  insurgent  subjects 
of  England,  he  would  not  be  long  in  exacting  from  the  Scotch 
the  vengeance  which  he  might  suppose  due  to  those  who  had 
set  the  example  of  taking  up  arms  against  him.  Such  was  the 
policy  of  the  measure  which  dictated  the  sending  the  auxiliary 
army  into  England  ;  and  it  was  avowed  in  a  manifesto  explana- 
tory of  their  reasons  for  giving  this  timely  and  important  aid 
to  the  English  Parliament.  The  English  Parliament,  they  said, 
had  been  already  friendly  to  them  and  might  be  so  again  ; 
whereas  the  King,  although  he  had  so  lately  established  religion 
among  them  according  to  their  desires,  had  given  them  no 
ground  to  confide  in  his  royal  declaration,  seeing  they  had 
found  h4s  promises  and  actions  inconsistent  with  each  other. 
'^  Our  conscience,^'  they  concluded,  ''and  God,  who  is  greater 
than  our  conscience,  beareth  us  record  that  we  aim  altogether 
at  the  glory  of  God,  peace  of  both  nations,  and  honor  of  the 
King,  in  suppressing  and  punishing  in  a  legal  way  those  who 
are  the  troublers  of  Israel,  the  firebrands  of  hell,  the  Korahs, 
the  Balaams,  the  Doegs,  the  Rabshakehs,  the  Hamans,  the  To- 
biahs,  the  Sanballats  of  our  time  ;  which  done,  we  are  satisfied. 
Neither  have  we  begun  to  use  a  military  expedition  to  England 
as  a  mean  for  compassing  those  our  pious  ends  until  all  other 
means  which  we  could  think  upon  have  failed  us  :  and  this 
alone  is  left  to  us,  ultimum  et  unicum  remedium,  the  last  and 
only  remedy/' 


152  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Leaving  it  to  casuists  to  determine  whether  one  contract- 
ing party  is  justified  in  breaking  a  solemn  treaty  upon  the 
suspicion  that,  in  certain  future  contingencies,  it  might  be 
infringed  by  the  other,  we  shall  proceed  to  mention  two 
other  circumstances  that  had  at  least  equal  influence  with 
the  Scottish  rulers  and  nation  with  any  doubts  which  they 
entertained  of  the  King's  good  faith. 

The  first  of  these  was  the  nature  and  condition  of  their 
army:  headed  by  a  poor  and  discontented  nobility,  under 
whom  it  was  officered  chiefly  by  Scottish  soldiers  of  fortune, 
who  had  served  in  the  German  wars  until  they  had  lost 
almost  all  distinction  of  political  principle,  and  even  of  coun- 
try, in  the  adoption  of  the  mercenary  faith  that  a  soldier's 
principal  duty  was  fidelity  to  the  state  or  sovereign  from 
whom  he  received  his  pay,  without  respect  either  to  the 
justice  of  tlie  quarrel  or  to  their  own  connection  with  either 
of  the  contending  parties.  To  men  of  this  stamp  Grotius 
applies  the  severe  character — Nullum  vitm  genus  est  impro- 
hius,  quam  eorum,  qui  sine  causm  respectu  mercede  conducti 
militant.  To  these  mercenary  soldiers,  as  well  as  to  the 
needy  gentry  with  whom  they  were  mixed  in  command,  and 
who  easily  imbibed  the  same  opinions,  the  success  of  the  late 
short  invasion  of  England  in  1641  was  a  sufficient  reason  for 
renewing  so  profitable  an  experiment.  The  good  pay  and 
free  quarters  of  England  had  made  a  feeling  impression  upon 
the  recollection  of  these  military  adventurers,  and  the  pros- 
pect of  again  levying  eight  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  day 
came  in  place  of  all  arguments,  whether  of  state  or  of  morality. 

Another  cause  inflamed  the  minds  of  the  nation  at  large, 
no  less  than  the  tempting  prospect  of  the  wealth  of  England 
animated  the  soldiery.  So  much  had  been  written  and  said 
on  either  side  concerning  the  form  of  church  government 
that  it  had  become  a  matter  of  infinitely  more  consequence  in 
the  eyes  of  the  multitude  than  the  doctrines  of  that  Gospel 
which  both  churches  had  embraced.  The  Prelatists  and 
Presbyterians  of  the  more  violent  kind  became  as  illiberal  as 
the  Papists,  and  would  scarcely  allow  the  possibility  of  salva- 
tion beyond  the  pale  of  their  respective  churches.  It  was  in 
vain  remarked  to  these  zealots  that,  had  the  Author  of  our 
holy  religion  considered  any  peculiar  form  of  church  govern- 
ment as  essential  to  salvation,  it  would  have  been  revealed 
with  the  same  precision  as  under  the  Old  Testament  dis- 
pensation. Both  parties  continued  as  violent  as  if  they 
could  have  pleaded  the  distinct  commands  of  Heaven  to 
justify  their  intolerance.     Laud,  in  the  days  of  his  domina- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  1B3 

tion,  had  fired  the  train  by  attempting  to  impose  upon  the 
Scottish  people  church  ceremonies  foreign  to  their  habits  and 
opinions.  The  success  with  which  this  had  been  resisted, 
and  the  Presbyterian  model  substituted  in  its  place,  had  en- 
deared the  latter  to  the  nation,  as  the  cause  in  which  they 
had  triumphed.  The  Solemn  League  and  Covenant,  adopted 
with  such  zeal  by  the  greater  part  of  the  kingdom,  and  by 
them  forced,  at  the  sword's  point,  upon  the  others,  bore  in 
*ts  bosom,  as  its  principal  object,  the  establishing  the  doc- 
trine and  discipline  of  the  Presbyterian  church,  and  the  put- 
ting down  all  error  and  heresy  ;  and,  having  attained  for 
their  own  country  an  establishment  of  this  golden  candle- 
stick, the  Scots  became  liberally  and  fraternally  anxious  to 
erect  the  same  in  England.  This  they  conceived  might  be 
easily  attained  by  lending  to  the  Parliament  the  effectual  as- 
sistance of  the  Scottish  forces.  The  Presbyterians,  a  numer- 
ous and  powerful  party  in  the  English  Parliament,  had 
hitherto  taken  the  lead  in  opposition  to  the  King  ;  while  the 
Independents  and  other  sectaries,  who  afterwards,  under 
Cromwell,  resumed  the  power  of  the  sword  and  overset  the 
Presbyterian  model  both  in  Scotland  and  England,  were  as 
yet  contented  to  lurk  under  the  shelter  of  the  wealthier  and 
more  powerful  party.  The  prospect  of  bringing  to  a  uni- 
formity the  kingdoms  of  England  and  Scotland  in  discipline 
and  worship  seemed  therefore  as  fair  as  it  was  desirable. 

The  celebrated  Sir  Henry  Vane,  one  of  the  commissioners 
who  negotiated  the  alliance  betwixt  England  and  Scotland, 
saw  the  influence  which  this  bait  had  upon  the  spirits  of 
those  with  whom  he  dealt ;  and,  although  himself  a  violent 
Independent,  he  contrived  at  once  to  gratify  and  to  elude  the 
eager  desires  of  the  Presbyterians  by  qualifying  the  obliga- 
tion to  reform  the  Church  of  England  as  a  change  to  be  ex- 
ecuted '^  according  to  the  Word  of  God  and  the  best  Reformed 
churches.^'  Deceived  by  their  own  eagerness,  themselves  en- 
tertaining no  doubts  on  the  jiis  divitium  of  their  own  eccle- 
siastical establishments,  and  not  holding  it  possible  such 
doubts  could  be  adopted  by  others,  the  Convention  of  Estates 
and  the  Kirk  of  Scotland  conceived  that  such  expressions  nec- 
essarily inferred  the  establishment  of  Presbytery  ;  nor  were 
they  undeceived  until,  when  their  help  was  no  longer  need- 
ful, the  sectaries  gave  them  to  understand  that  the  phrase 
might  be  as  well  applied  to  Independency,  or  any  other  mode 
of  worship  which  those  who  were  at  the  head  of  affairs  at  the 
time  might  consider  as  agreeable  '^  to  the  Word  of  God  and  the 
practice  of  the  Keformed  churches."    Neither  were  the  out- 


164  [VAVERLEY  NOVELS 

witted  Scottisli  less  astonished  to  find  that  the  designs  of  the 
English  sectaries  struck  against  the  monarchial  constitution 
of  Britain,  it  having  been  their  intention  to  reduce  the  power 
of  the  king,  but  by  no  means  to  abrogate  the  office.  They 
fared,  however,  in  this  respect  like  rash  physicians,  who  com- 
mence by  over-physicking  a  patient,  until  he  is  reduced  to  a 
state  of  weakness  from  which  cordials  are  afterwards  unable 
to  recover  him. 

But  these  events  were  still  in  the  womb  of  futurity.  As 
yet  the  Scottish  Parliament  held  their  engagement  with  Eng- 
land consistent  with  justice,  prudence,  and  piety,  and  their 
military  undertaking  seemed  to  succeed  to  their  very  wish. 
The  junction  of  the  Scottish  army  with  those  of  Fairfax  and 
Manchester  enabled  the  Parliamentary  forces  to  besiege  York, 
and  to  fight  the  desperate  action  of  Long  Marston  Moor,  in 
which  Prince  Rupert  and  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle  were  de- 
feated. The  Scottish  auxiliaries,  indeed,  had  less  of  the  glory 
of  this  victory  than  their  countrymen  could  desire.  David 
Leslie,  with  their  cavalry,  fought  bravely,  and  to  them,  as 
well  as  to  CromwelFs  brigade  of  Independents,  the  honor  of 
the  day  belonged  ;  but  the  old  Earl  of  Leven,  the  Covenant- 
ing general,  was  driven  out  of  the  field  by  the  impetuous 
charge  of  Prince  Rupert,  and  was  thirty  miles  distant,  in 
full  flight  towards  Scotland,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  the 
news  that  his  party  had  gained  a  complete  victory. 

The  absence  of  these  auxiliary  troops,  upon  this  crusade 
for  the  establishment  of  Presbyterianism  in  England,  had 
considerably  diminished  the  power  of  the  Convention  of 
Estates  in  Scotland,  and  had  given  rise  to  those  agitations 
among  the  anti-Covenanters  which  we  have  noticed  *t  the 
beginning  of  this  chapter. 


CHAPTER  II 

His  mother  could  for  him  as  cradle  set 

Her  husband'3  rusty  iron  corselet, 

Whose  jangling  sound  could  hush  her  babe  to  rest, 

Thai;  n^vor  plain'd  of  his  uneasy  nest ; 

Then  did  he  dream  of  dreary  wars  at  hand, 

And  woke,  and  fought,  and  won,  ere  he  could  stand. 

Hall's  Satires. 

[t  trab  towards  the  close  of  a  summer^s  evening,  during  the 
anxious  period  which  we  have  commemorated,  that  a  young 
genireman  of  quality,  well  mounted  and  armed,  and  accom- 
paniea  by  two  servants,  one  of  whom  led  a  sumpter-horse, 
rode  Slowly  up  one  of  those  steep  passes  by  which  the  High- 
lands are  accessible  from  the  Lowlands  of  Perthshire.  *  Their 
course  had  lain  for  some  time  along  the  banks  of  a  lake, 
whose  deep  waters  reflected  the  crimson  beams  of  the  western 
sun.  The  broken  path  which  they  pursued  with  some  diffi- 
culty was  in  some  places  shaded  by  ancient  birches  and  oak- 
trees,  and  in  others  overhung  b^^  fragments  of  huge  rock. 
Elsewhere  the  hill,  which  formed  the  northern  side  of  this 
beautiful  sheet  of  water,  arose  in  steep  but  less  .precipitous 
acclivity,  and  was  arrayed  in  heath  of  the  darkest  purple. 
In  the  present  times  a  scene  so  romantic  would  have  been 
judged  to  possess  the  highest  charms  for  the  traveller  ;  but 
those  who  journey  in  days  of  doubt  and  dread  pay  little  at- 
tention to  picturesque  scenery. 

The  master  kept,  as  often  as  the  wood  permitted,  abreast 
of  one  or  both  of  his  domestics,  and  seemed  earnestly  to  con- 
verse with  them,  probably  because  the  distinctions  of  rank 
are  readily  set  aside  among  those  who  are  made  to  be  sharers 
of  common  danger.  The  dispositions  of  the  leading  men 
who  inhabit  this  wild  country,  and  the  probability  of  their 
taking  part  in  the  political  convulsions  that  were  soon  ex- 
pected, were  the  subjects  of  their  conversation. 

They  had  not  advanced  above  half-way  up  the  lake,  and 
the  young  gentleman  was  pointing  to  his  attendants  the  spot 
where  their  intended  road  turned  northwards,  and,  leaving 

*  The  beautiful  pass  of  Leny.  TM»*r  Callan^'er,  in  Menteith,  would,  in  some  re* 
spects,  answer  the  description. 

1S6 


156  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  verge  of  the  loch,  ascended  a  ravine  to  the  right  hand, 
when  they  discovered  a  single  horseman  coming  down  the 
shore,  as  if  to  meet  them.  The  gleam  of  the  sunbeams  upon 
his  head-piece  and  corselet  showed  that  he  was  in  armor,  and 
the  purpose  of  the  other  travellers  required  that  he  should 
not  pass  unquestioned.  "  We  must  know  who  he  is/^  said 
the  young  gentleman,  '^and  whither  he  is  going.""  And,  put- 
ting  spurs  to  his  horse,  he  rode  forward  as  fast  as  the  rugged 
state  of  the  road  would  permit,  followed  by  his  two  attend- 
ants, until  he  reached  the  point  where  the  pass  along  the  side 
of  the  lake  was  intersected  by  that  which  descended  from  the 
ravine,  securing  thus  against  the  possibility  of  the  stranger 
eluding  them  by  turning  into  the  latter  road  before  they  came 
np  with  him. 

The  single  horseman  had  mended  his  pace  when  he  first 
observed  the  three  riders  advance  rapidly  towards  him  ;  but, 
when  he -saw  them  halt  and  form  a  front  which  completely 
occupied  the  path,  he  checked  his  horse  and  advanced  with 
great  deliberation  ;  so  that  each  party  had  an  opportunity  to 
take  a  full  survey  of  the  other.  The  solitary  stranger  was 
mounted  upon  an  able  horse,  fit  for  military  service,  and  for 
the  great  weight  which  he  had  to  carry,  and  his  rider  occu- 
pied his  demi-pique  or  war-saddle  with  an  air  that  showed  it 
was  his  familiar  seat.  He  had  a  bright  burnished  head-piece, 
with  a  plume  of  feathers,  together  with  a  cuirass,  thick 
enough  to  resist  a  musket-ball,  and  a  back-piece  of  lighter 
materials.  These  defensive  arms  he  wore  over  a  buff  jerkin, 
along  with  a  pair  of  gauntlets  or  steel  gloves,  the  tops  of 
which  reached  up  to  his  elbow,  and  which,  like  the  rest  of 
his  armor,  were  of  bright  steel.  At  the  front  of  his  military 
saddle  hung  a  case  of  pistols,  far  beyond  the  ordinary  size, 
nearjy  two  feet  in  length,  and  carrying  bullets  of  twenty  to  the 
pound.  A  buff  belt,  with  a  broad  silver  buckle,  sustained  on 
one  side  a  long  straight  double-edged  broadsword,  with  a 
strong  guard  and  a  blade  calculated  either  to  strike  or  push. 
On  the  right  side  hung  a  dagger  of  about  eighteen  inches  in 
length  ;  a  shoulder-belt  sustained  at  his  back  a  musketoon  or 
blunderbuss,  and  was  crossed  by  a  bandelier  containing  his 
charges  of  ammunition.  Thigh-pieces  of  steel,  then  termed 
taslets,  met  the  tops  of  his  huge  jack-boots,  and  completed 
the  equipage  of  a  well-armed  trooper  of  the  period. 

The  appearance  of  the  horseman  himself  corresponded  well 
with  his  military  equipage,  to  which  he  had  the  air  of  having 
been  long  inured,  lie  was  above  the  middle  size,  and  of 
strength  sufficient  to  bear  m\h  ease  the  weight  of  his  weap- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  157 

ons,  offensive  and  defensive.  His  age  might  be  forty  and  up- 
wards, and  his  countenance  was  that  of  a  resolute  weather- 
beaten  veteran,  who  had  seen  many  fields,  and  brought  away 
in  token  more  than  one  scar.  At  the  distance  of  about  thirty 
yards  he  halted  and  stood  fast,  raised  himself  on  his  stirrups, 
as  if  to  reconnoitre  and  ascertain  the  purpose  of  the  opposite 
party,  and  brought  his  musketoon  under  his  right  arm,  ready 
for  use,  if  occasion  should  require  it.  In  everything  but 
numbers  he  had  the  advantage  of  those  who  seemed  inclined 
to  interrupt  his  passage. 

The  leader  of  the  party  was,  indeed,  well  mounted  and  clad 
in  a  buff  coat,  richly  embroidered,  the  half -military  dress  of  the 
period  ;  but  his  domestics  had  only  coarse  jackets  of  thick  felt, 
which  could  scarce  be  expected  to  turn  the  edge  of  a  sword,  if 
wielded  by  a  strong  man  ;  and  none  of  them  had  any  weapons 
save  swords  and  pistols,  without  which  gentlemen  or  their 
attendants  during  thos^  disturbed  times  seldom  stirred  abroad. 

When  they  had  stood  at  gaze  for  about  a  minute,  the 
younger  gentleman  gave  the  challenge  which  was  then  common 
in  the  mouth  of  all  strangers  who  met  in  such  circumstances — 
''  For  whom  are  you  ?  " 

''  Tell  me  first, ^'answered  the  soldier,  "  for  whom  are  you  ? 
the  strongest  party  should  speak  first. '^ 

"  We  are  for  God  and  King  Charles,"  answered  the  first 
speaker.     ''Now  tell  your  faction  ;  you  know  ours." 

''  I  am  for  God  and  my  standard,"  answered  the  single 
horseman. 

"And  for  which  standard  ?"  replied  the  chief  of  the  other 
party — "  Cavalier  or  Eoundhead,  King  or  Convention  ?" 

''  By  my  troth,  sir,"  answered  the  soldier,  "  I  would  be 
loth  to  reply  to  you  with  an  untruth,  as  a  thing  unbecoming  a 
cavalier  of  fortune  and  a  soldier.  But,  to  answer  your  query 
with  beseeming  veracity,  it  is  necessary  I  should  myself  have 
resolved  to  whilk  of  the  present  divisions  of  the  kingdom  I 
shall  ultimately  adhere,  being  a  matter  whereon  my  mind  is 
not  as  yet  preceesely  ascertained." 

''  I  should  have  thought,"  answered  the  gentleman, 
"  that,  when  loyalty  and  religion  are  at  stake,  no  gentleman 
or  man  of  honor  could  be  long  in  choosing  his  party." 

"  Truly,  sir,"  replied  the  trooper,  "if  ye  speak  this  in  the 
way  of  vituperation,  as  meaning  to  impugn  my  honor  or  gen- 
teelity,  I  would  blithely  put  the  same  to  issue,  venturing  in 
that  quarrel  with  my  single  person  against  you  three.  But  if 
you  speak  it  in  the  way  of  logical  ratiocination,  whilk  I  have 
studied  in  my  youth  at  the  Marischal  College  of  Aberdeen,  I 


158  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

am  ready  to  prove  to  ye  logice  that  my  resolution  to  defer  for 
a  certain  season  the  taking  upon  me  either  of  these  quarrels 
not  only  becometh  me  as  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honor, 
but  also  as  a  person  of  sense  and  prudence,  one  imbued  with 
humane  letters  in  his  early  youth,  and  who  from  thencefor- 
ward has  followed  the  wars  under  thebanner  of  the  invincible 
Gustavus,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  and  under  many  other 
heroic  leaders,  both  Lutheran  and  Calvinist,  Papist  and  Ar- 
minian/' 

After  exchanging  a  word  or  two  with  his  domestics,  the 
younger  gentleman  replied,  "  I  should  be  glad,  sir,  to  have 
some  conversation  with  you  upon  so  interesting  a  question, 
and  should  be  proud  if  I  can  determine  you  in  favor  of  the 
cause  I  have  myself  espoused.  I  ride  this  evening  to  a 
friend's  house  not  three  miles  distant,  whither,  if  you  choose 
to  accompany  me,  you  shall  have  good  quarters  for  the  night, 
and  free  permission  to  take  your  own  load  in  the  morning,  if 
you  then  feel  no  inclination  to  join  with  us/^ 

"Whose  word  am  I  to  take  for  this?''  answered  the 
cautious  soldier.  "  A  man  must  know  his  guarantee  or  he 
may  fall  into  an  ambuscade." 

"  I  am  called,''  answered  th^  jounger  stranger,  "the Earl 
of  Menteith,  and  I  trust  you  will  receive  my  honor  as  a  suffi- 
cient security." 

"  A  worthy  nobleman,"  answered  the  soldier,  "  whose  parole 
is  not  to  be  doubted. "  With  one  motion  he  replaced  his  muske- 
toon  at  his  back,  and  with  another  made  his  military  salute 
to  the  young  nobleman,  and  continuing  to  talk  as  he  rode 
forward  to  join  him — "  And  I  trust,"  said  he,  "my  own  as- 
surance that  I  will  be  bon  camarado  to  your  lordship  in  peace 
or  in  peril,  during  the  time  we  shall  abide  together,  will  not 
be  altogether  vilipended  in  these  doubtful  times,  when,  as 
they  say,  a  man's  head  is  safer  in  a  steel  cap  than  in  a  marble 
palace. 

^  I  assure  you,  sir,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "  that,  to  judge 
from  your  appearance,  I  most  highly  value  the  advantage  of 
your  escort ;  but  I  trust  we  shall  have  no  occasion  for  any 
exercise  of  valor,  as  I  expect  to  conductyou  to  good  and  friendly 
quarters." 

"  Good  quarters,  my  lord,"  replied  the  soldier,  "  are  al- 
ways acceptable  and  are  only  to  be  postponed  to  good  pay  or 
good  booty,  not  to  mention  the  honor  of  a  cavalier  or  the 
needful  points  of  commanded  duty.  And  truly,  my  lord, 
your  noble  proffer  is  not  the  less  welcome  in  that  I  knew  not 
preceesely  this  night  where  I  and  my  poor  companion  [pat' 
ting  his  horse]  were  to  find  lodgments. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  I59 

^'  May  I  be  permitted  to  ask,  then,"  said  Lord  Menteith^ 
"  to  whom  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  stand  quartermaster  ?  " 

''  Truly,  my  lord,"  said  the  trooper,  "  my  name  is  Dal- 
getty — Dugald  Dalgetty,  Eittmaster  Dugald  Dalgetty  of 
Drumthwacket,  at  your  honorable  service  to  command.  It  is 
a  name  you  may  have  seen  in  Gallo-Belgicus,  the  Swedish  In- 
telligencer, or,  if  you  read  High  Dutch,  in  the  Fliegenden 
Mercoeur  of  Leipsic.  My  father,  my  lord,  having  by  un- 
thrifty courses  reduced  a  fair  patrimony  to  a  nonentity,  I  had 
no  better  shift,  when  I  was  eighteen  years  auld,  than  to  carry 
the  learning  whilk  I  had  acquired  at  the  Marischal  College  of 
Aberdeen,  my  gentle  bluid  and  designation  of  Drumthwacket, 
together  with  a  pair  of  stalwart  arms  and  legs  conform,  to 
the  German  wars,  there  to  push  my  way  as  a  cavalier  of  for- 
tune. My  lord,  my  legs  and  arms  stood  me  in  more  stead 
than  either  my  gentle  kin  or  my  book-lear,  and  I  found  my- 
self trailing  a  pike  as  a  private  gentleman  under  old  Sii 
Ludovick  Leslie,  where  I  learned  the  rules  of  service  so  tightly 
that  I  will  not  forget  them  in  a  hurry.  Sir,  I  have  been  made 
to  stand  guard  eight  hours,  being  from  twelve  at  noon  to  eight 
o'clock  of  the  night,  at  the  palace,  armed  with  back  and 
breast,  head-piece  and  bracelets,  being  iron  to  the  teeth,  in  a 
bitter  frost,  and  the  ice  was  as  hard  as  ever  was  flint ;  and  all 
for  stopping  an  instant  to  speak  to  my  landlady,  when  I 
should  have  gone  to  roll-call." 

"And,  doubtless,  sir,"  replied  Lord  Menteith,  ''you  have 
gone  through  some  hot  service  as  well  as  this  same  cold  duty 
you  talk  of  ?" 

'*  Surely,  my  lord,  it  doth  not  become  me  to  speak  ;  but 
he  that  hath  seen  the  fields  of  Leipsic  and  of  Lutzen  may  be  said 
to  have  seen  pitched  battles.  And  one  who  hath  witnessed 
the  intaking  of  Frankfort,  and  Spanheim,  and  Nuremberg, 
and  so  forth,  should  know  somewhat  about  leaguers,  storms, 
onslaughts,  and  outfalls." 

"  But  your  merit,  sir,  and  experience  were  doubtless  fol- 
lowed by  promotion  ?  " 

''It  came  slow,  my  lord — dooms  slow,"  replied  Dalgetty  ; 
"but,  as  my  Scottish  countrymen,  the  fathers  of  the  war,  and 
the  raisers  of  those  valorous  Scottish  regiments  that  were  the 
dread  of  Germany,  began  to  fall  pretty  thick,  what  with  pesti- 
lence and  what  with  the  sword,  why  we,  their  children,  suc- 
ceeded to  their  inheritance.  Sir,  I  was  six  years  first  private 
gentleman  of  the  company,  and  three  years  lance-spessade,  dis- 
daining to  receive  a  halberd,  as  unbecoming  my  birth.  Where- 
fore I  was  ultimately  promoted  to  be  a  fahn-dragger,  as  the 


160  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

High  Dutch  call  it — which  signifies  an  ancient — in  the  King's 
Leif- Regiment  of  Black-Horse,  and  thereafter  I  arose  to  be 
lieutenant  and  rittmaster,  under  that  invincible  monarch,  the 
Bulwark  of  the  Protestant  Faith,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  the 
terror  of  Austria,  Gustavus  the  Victorious/' 

"  And  yet,  if  I  understand  you.  Captain  Dalgetty,  I  think 
that  rank  corresponds  with  your  foreign  title  of  ritt- 
master '* 

*'  The  same  grade  preceesely,''  answered  Dalgetty  ;  *'  ritt- 
master  signifying  literally  file-leader/' 

*'  I  was  observing,"  continued  Lord  Menteith,  "that,  if  I 
understood  you  right,  you  had  left  the  service  of  this  great 
Prince." 

'^  It  was  after  his  death — it  was  after  his  death,  sir,"  said 
Dalgetty,  ''when  I  was  in  no  shape  bound  to  continue  mine 
adherence.  There  are  things,  my  lord,  in  that  service  that 
cannot  but  go  against  the  stomach  of  any  cavalier  of  honor. 
In  especial,  albeit  the  pay  be  none  of  the  most  superabundant, 
being  only  about  sixty  dollars  a  month  to  a  rittmaster,  yet  the 
invincible  Gustavus  never  paid  above  one-third  of  that  sum, 
whilk  was  distributed  monthly  by  way  of  loan  ;  although, 
when  justly  considered,  it  was,  in  fact,  a  borrowing  by  that 
great  monarch  of  the  additional  two-thirds  which  were  due  to 
the  soldier.  And  I  have  seen  some  whole  regiments  of  Dutch 
and  Holsteiners  mutiny  on  the  field  of  battle,  like  base  scul- 
lions, crying  out  '  Gelt,  gelt/  signifying  their  desire  of  pay, 
instead  of  falling  to  blows  like  our  noble  Scottish  blades,  who 
ever  disdained,  my  lord,  postponing  of  honor  to  filthy  lucre." 

"But  were  not  these  arrears,"  said  Lord  Menteith, " paid 
to  the  soldiery  at  some  stated  period  ?" 

"  My  lord,"  said  Dalgetty,  "  I  take  it  on  my  con- 
science that  at  no  period,  and  by  no  possible  process,  could  one 
kreutzer  of  them  ever  be  recovered.  I  myself  never  saw 
twenty  dollars  of  my  own  all  the  time  I  served  the  invincible 
Gustavus,  unless  it  was  from  the  chance  of  a  storm  or  victory, 
or  the  fetching  in  some  town  or  doorp,  when  a  cavalier  of 
fortune,  who  knows  the  usage  of  wars,  seldom  f aileth  to  make 
some  small  profit." 

"I  begin  rather  to  wonder,  sir,"  said  Lord  Menteith, 
"that  you  should  have  continued  so  long  in  the  Swedish  ser- 
vice, than  that  you  should  have  ultimately  withdrawn  from 
it." 

"Neither  I  should,"  answered  the  Rittmaster;  "but that 
great  leader,  captain,  and  king,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  and 
the  Bulwark  of  the  Protestant  Faith,  had  a  way  of  winning 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  161 

battles,  taking  towns,  overrunning  countries,  and  levying 
contributions  whilk  made  his  service  irresistibly  delectable  to 
all  true-bred  cavaliers  who  follow  the  noble  profession  of 
arms.  Simple  as  I  ride  here,  my  lord,  I  have  myself  com- 
manded the  whole  stift  of  Dunklespiel  on  the  Lower  Rhine, 
occupying  the  Palsgrave^s  palace,  consuming  his  choice  wines 
with  my  comrades,  calling  in  contributions,  requisitions,  and 
caduacs,  and  not  failing  to  lick  my  lingers,  as  became  a  good 
cook.  But  truly  all  this  glory  hastened  to  decay  after  our 
great  master  had  been  shot  with  three  bullets  on  the  field  of 
Lutzen  ;  wherefore,  finding  that  Fortune  had  changed  sides, 
that  the  borrowings  and  lendings  went  on  as  before  out  of  our 
pay,  while  the  caduacs  and  casualties  were  all  cut  off,  I  e'en 
gave  up  my  commission  and  took  service  with  Wallenstein  in 
Walter  Butleris  Irish  regiment. '^ 

"  And  may  I  beg  to  know  of  you,''  said  Lord  Menteith, 
apparently  interested  in  the  adventures  of  this  soldier  of 
fortune,  ^'  how  you  liked  this  change  of  masters  ?" 

'^  Indifferent  well,"  said  the  Captain — ^' very  indifferent 
well.  I  cannot  say  that  tlie  Emperor  paid  much  better  than 
the  great  Gustavus.  For  hard  knocks,  we  had  plenty  of 
them.  I  was  often  obliged  to  run  my  head  against  my  old 
acquaintances,  the  Swedish  feathers,  whilk  your  honor  must 
conceive  to  be  double-pointed  stakes,  shod  with  iron  at  each 
end,  and  planted  before  the  squad  of  pikes  to  prevent  an 
onfall  of  the  cavalry.  The  whilk  Swedish  feathers,  although 
they  look  gay  to  the  eye,  resembling  the  shrubs  or  lesser 
trees  of  ane  forest,  as  the  puissant  pikes,  arranged  in  battalia 
behind  them,  correspond  to  the  tall  pines  thereof,  yet,  never- 
theless, are  not  altogether  so  soft  to  encounter  as  the  plumage 
of  a  goose.  Howbeit,  in  despite  of  heavy  blows  and  light 
pay,  a  cavalier  of  fortune  may  thrive  indifferently  well  in  the 
Imperial  service,  in  respect  his  private  casualties  are  nothing 
so  closely  looked  to  as  by  the  Swede  ;  and  so  that  an  officer  did 
his  duty  on  the  field,  neither  Wallenstein  nor  Pappenheim,  nor 
old  Tilly  before  them,  would  likely  listen  to  the  objurgations 
of  boors  or  burghers  against  any  commander  or  soldado  by 
whom  they  chanced  to  be  somewhat  closely  shorn.  So  that 
an  experienced  cavalier,  knowing  how  to  lay,  as  our  Scottish 
phrase  runs,  ^  the  head  of  the  sow  to  the  tail  of  the  grice,' 
might  get  out  of  the  country  the  pay  whilk  he  could  not 
obtain  from  the  Emperor." 

"With  a  full  hand,  sir,  doubtless,  and  with  interest  ?" 
said  Lord  Menteith. 

"  Indubitably,  my  lord,"  answered  Dalgetty,  composedly ; 


163  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"for  it  would  be  doubly  disgraceful  for  any  soldado  of 
rank  to  have  his  name  called  in  question  for  any  petty  delin- 
quency. " 

"And  pray,  sir,"  continued  Lord  Menteith,  "what  made 
you  leave  so  gainful  a  service  ?  " 

"  Why,  truly,  sir,"  answered  the  soldier,  "an  Irish  cava- 
lier, called  O'Quilligan,  being  major  of  our  regiment,  and  I 
having  had  words  with  him  the  night  before  respecting  the 
worth  and  precedence  of  our  several  nations,  it  pleased  him 
the  next  day  to  deliver  his  orders  to  me  with  the  point  of  his 
baton  advanced  and  held  aloof,  instead  of  declining  and 
trailing  the  same,  as  is  the  fashion  from  a  courteous  com- 
manding officer  towards  his  equal  in  rank,  though,  it  may 
be,  his  inferior  in  military  grade.  Upon  this  quarrel,  sir, 
we  fought  in  private  rencontre  ;  and  as,  in  the  perquisitions 
which  followed,  it  pleased  Walter  Butler,  our  oherst,  or 
colonel,  to  give  the  lighter  punishment  to  his  countryman 
and  the  heavier  to  me,  whereupon,  ill-stomaching  such 
partiality,  I  exchanged  my  commission  for  one  under  the 
Spaniard." 

"  I  hope  you  found  yourself  better  off  by  the  change  ?  " 
said  Lord  Menteith. 

"In  good  sooth,"  answered  the  Rittmaster,  "I  had  but 
little  to  complain  of.  The  pay  was  somewhat  regular,  being 
furnished  by  the  rich  Flemings  and  Walloons  of  the  Low 
Country.  The  quarters  were  excellent ;  the  good  wheaten 
loaves  of  the  Flemings  were  better  than  the  provant  rye- 
bread  of  the  Swede,  and  Rhenish  wine  was  more  plenty  with 
us  than  ever  I  saw  the  black  beer  of  Rostock  in  Gustavus's 
camp.  Service  there  was  none ;  duty  there  was  little,  and 
that  little  we  might  do  or  leave  undone  at  our  pleasure ; 
an  excellent  retirement  for  a  cavalier  somewhat  weary  of  field 
and  leaguer,  who  had  purchased  with  his  blood  as  much  honor 
as  might  serve  his  turn,  and  was  desirous  of  a  little  ease  and 
good  living." 

"And  may  I  ask,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "why you.  Cap- 
tain, being,  as  I  suppose,  in  the  situation  you  describe,  retired 
from  the  Spanish  service  also  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  consider,  my  lord,  that  your  Spaniard," 
replied  Captain  Dalgettv,  "is  a  person  altogether  unparal- 
leled in  his  own  conceit,  wherethrough  he  maketh  not  fit 
account  of  such  foreign  cavaliers  of  valor  as  are  pleased  to 
take  service  with  him.  And  a  galling  thing  it  is  to  every 
honorable  soldado  to  be  put  aside  and  postponed  and  obliged 
to  yield  preference  to  every  puffing  signor,  who,  were  it  the 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  163 

question  which  should  first  mount  a  breach  at  push  of  pike, 
might  be  apt  to  yield  willing  place  to  a  Scottish  cavalier. 
Moreover,  sir,  I  was  pricked  in  conscience  respecting  a  matter 
of  religion." 

''  I  should  not  have  thought.  Captain  Dalgetty,"  said  the 
young  nobleman,  ^^that  an  old  soldier,  who  had  changed  ser- 
vice so  often,  would  have  been  too  scrupulous  on  that  head.^^ 

*'  No  more  I  am,  my  lord,"  said  the  Captain,  ''  since  I 
hold  it  to  be  the  duty  of  the  chaplain  of  the  regiment  to 
settle  those  matters  for  me  and  every  other  brave  cavalier, 
inasmuch  as  he  does  nothing  else  that  I  know  of  for  his  pay 
and  allowances.  But  this  was  a  particular  case,  my  lord,  a 
casus  irnprovisus,  as  I  may  say,  in  whilk  I  had  no  chaplain 
of  my  own  persuasion  to  act  as  my  adviser.  I  found,  in 
short,  that,  although  my  being  a  Protestant  might  be  winked 
at,  in  respect  that  I  was  a  man  of  action,  and  had  more  ex- 
perience than  all  the  dons  in  our  tertia  put  together,  yet, 
when  in  garrison,  it  was  expected  I  should  go  to  mass  with  the 
regiment.  Now,  my  lord,  as  a  true  Scottish  man,  and  educated 
at  the  Marischal  College  of  Aberdeen,  I  was  bound  to  up- 
hold the  mass  to  be  an  act  of  blinded  papistry  and  utter  idol- 
atry, whilk  I  was  altogether  unwilling  to  homologate  by 
my  presence.  True  it  is  that  I  consulted  on  the  point  with 
a  worthy  countryman  of  my  own,  one  Father  Fatsides,  of  the 
Scottish  convent  in  Wurtzburg " 

"And  I  hope,"  observed  Lord  Menteith,  "you  obtained  a 
clear  opinion  from  this  same  ghostly  father  ?  " 

"As  clear  as  it  could  be,"  replied  Captain  Dalgetty, 
"  considering  we  had  drunk  six  flasks  of  Ehenish  and  about 
two  mutchkinsof  hirschemvasser.  Father  Fatsides  informed 
me  that,  as  nearly  as  he  could  judge  for  a  heretic  like  myself, 
it  signified  not  much  whether  I  went  to  mass  or  not,  seeing 
my  eternal  perdition  was  signed  and  sealed  at  any  rate,  in 
respect  of  my  impenitent  and  obdurate  perseverance  in  my 
damnable  heresy.  Being  discouraged  by  this  response,  I 
applied  to  a  Dutch  pastor  of  the  Reformed  Church,  who  told 
me  he  thought  I  might  lawfully  go  to  mass,  in  respect  that 
the  prophet  permitted  Naaman,  a  mighty  man  of  valor,  and 
an  honorable  cavalier  of  Syria,  to  follow  his  master  into  the 
house  of  Eimmon,  a  false  god  or  idol  to  whom  he  had  vowed 
service,  and  to  bow  down  when  the  king  was  leaning  upon  his 
hand.  But  neither  was  this  answer  satisfactory  to  me,  both 
because  there  was  an  unco  difference  between  an  anointed 
king  of  Syria  and  our  Spanish  colonel,  whom  I  could  have 
blown  away  like  the  peeling  of  an  ingan,  and  chiefly  because 


164  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

I  could  not  find  the  thing  was  required  of  me  by  any  of  the 
articles  of  war  ;  neither  was  I  proffered  any  consideration, 
either  in  perquisite  or  pay,  for  the  wrong  I  might  thereby  do 
to  my  conscience/' 

'*  So  you  again  changed  your  service  ?  "  said  Lord  Men- 
teith. 

'^  In  troth  did  I,  my  lord ;  and,  after  trying  for  a  short 
while  two  or  three  other  powers,  I  even  took  on  for  a  time 
with  their  High  Miglitinesses  the  States  of  Holland/' 

"And  how  did  their  service  jump  with  your  humor?'* 
again  demanded  his  companion. 

"  0  !  my  lord,"  said  the  soldier,  in  a  sort  of  enthusiasm, 
''  their  behavior  on  pay-day  might  be  a  pattern  to  all  Europe 
— no  borrowings,  no  lendings,  no  offsets,  no  arrears — all  bal- 
anced and  paid  like  a  banker's  book.  The  quarters,  too,  are 
excellent,  and  the  allowances  unchallengeable  ;  but  then,  sir, 
they  are  a  preceese,  scrupulous  people,  and  will  allow  noth- 
ing for  peccadilloes.  So  that  if  a  boor  complains  of  a 
broken  head,  or  a  beer-seller  of  a  broken  can,  or  a  daft  wench 
does  but  squeak  loud  enough  to  be  heard  above  her  breath,  a 
soldier  of  honor  shall  be  dragged,  not  before  his  own  court- 
martial,  who  can  best  judge  of  and  punish  his  demerits,  but 
before  a  base  mechanical  burgomaster,  who  shall  menace 
him  with  the  rasp-house,  the  cord,  and  what-not,  as  if  .  he 
were  one  of  their  own  mean,  amphibious,  twenty-breeched 
boors.  So,  not  being  able  to  dwell  longer  among  those  un- 
grateful plebeians,  who,  although  unable  to  defend  themselves 
by  their  proper  strength,  will  nevertheless  allow  the  noble 
foreign  cavalier  who  engages  with  them  nothing  beyond  his 
dry  wages,  which  no  honorable  spirit  will  put  in  competition 
with  a  liberal  license  and  honorable  countenance,  I  resolved 
to  leave  the  service  of  the  Mynheers.  And  hearing  at  this 
time,  to  my  exceeding  satisfaction,  that  there  is  something 
to  be  doing  this  summer  in  my  way  in  this  my  dear  native 
country,  I  am  come  hither,  as  they  say,  like  a  beggar  to  a 
bridal,  in  order  to  give  my  loving  countrymen  the  advantage 
of  that  experience  which  I  have  acquired  in  foreign  parts. 
So  your  lordship  has  an  outline  of  my  brief  story,  excepting 
my  deportment  in  those  passages  of  action  in  the  field,  in 
leaguers,  storms,  and  onslaughts,  whilk  would  be  wearisome 
to  narrate,  and  might,  peradventure,  better  befit  any  other 
tongue  than  mine  own.'' 


CHAPTEK  III 

For  pleas  of  right  let  statesmen  vex  their  head, 
Battle's  my  business,  and  my  guerdon  bread  ; 
And,  with  the  sworded  Switzer,  I  can  say, 
The  best  of  causes  is  the  best  of  pay. 

Donne. 

The  difficulty  and  narrowness  of  the  road  had  by  this  time 
become  such  as  to  interrupt  the  conversation  of  the  travellers, 
and  Lord  Menteith,  reining  back  his  horse,  held  a  moment's 
private  conversation  with  his  domestics.  The  Captain,  who 
now  led  the  van  of  the  party,  after  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile's 
slow  and  toilsome  advance  up  a  broken  and  rugged  ascent, 
emerged  into  an  upland  valley,  to  which  a  mountain  stream 
acted  as  a  drain,  and  afforded  sufficient  room  upon  its  green- 
sward banks  for  the  travellers  to  pursue  their  journey  in  a 
more  social  manner. 

Lord  Menteith  accordingly  resumed  the  conversation, 
which  had  been  interrupted  by  the  difficulties  of  the  way. 
"^'I  should  have  thought,''  said  he  to  Captain  Dalgetty,  '*^that 
a  cavalier  of  your  honorable  mark,  who  hath  so  long  followed 
the  valiant  King  of  Sweden,  and  entertains  such  a  suitable 
contempt  for  the  base  mechanical  States  of  Holland,  would 
not  have  hesitated  to  embrace  the  cause  of  King  Charles  in 
preference  to  that  of  the  low-born,  roundheaded,  canting 
knaves  who  are  in  rebellion  against  his  authority  ?  " 

'^  Ye  speak  reasonably,  my  lord,"  said  Dalgetty,  "  and, 
cceteris  paribus,  I  might  be  induced  to  see  the  matter  in  the 
same  light.  But,  my  lord,  there  is  a  southern  proverb — 
'  Fine  words  butter  no  parsnips.'  I  have  heard  enough 
since  I  came  here  to  satisfy  me  that  a  cavalier  of  honor  is  free 
to  take  any  part  in  this  civil  embroilment  whilk  he  may  find 
most  convenient  for  his  own  peculiar.  'Loyalty'  is  your 
password,  my  lord  ;  '  Liberty,'  roars  another  chield  from  the 
other  side  of  the  strath;  'The  King,'  shouts  one  war-cry; 
'The  Parliament,'  roars  another;  'Montrose  forever,'  cries 
Donald,  waving  his  bonnet;   'Argyle  and  Leven,'  cries  a 

166 


166  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

south-country  Saunders,  vaporing  with  his  hat  and  feather ; 
*  Fight  for  the  bishops/  says  a  priest,  with  his  gown  and 
rochet ;  *  Stand  stout  for  the  Kirk,^  cries  a  minister,  in  a 
Geneva  cap  and  band — good  watchwords  all — excellent  watch- 
words. Whilk  cause  is  the  best  I  cannot  say.  But  sure  am  I 
that  I  have  fought  knee-deep  in  blood  many  a  day  for  one 
that  was  ten  degrees  worse  than  the  worst  of  them  all." 

"And  pray,  Captain  Dalgetty,"  said  his  lordship,  ''since 
the  pretensions  of  both  parties  seem  to  you  so  equal,  will 
you  please  to  inform  us  by  what  circumstances  your  prefer- 
ence will  be  determined  ?" 

''Simply  upon  two  considerations,  my  lord,"  answered  the 
soldier,  "being,  first,  on  which  side  my  services  would  be  in 
most  honorable  request ;  and,  secondly,  whilk  is  a  corollary 
of  the  first,  by  whilk  party  they  are  likely  to  be  most  grate- 
fully requited.  And,  to  deal  plainly  with  you,  my  lord,  my 
opinion  at  present  doth  on  both  points  rather  incline  to  the 
side  of  the  Parliament." 

"  Your  reasons,  if  you  please,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "  and 
perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  meet  them  with  some  others  which 
are  more  powerful." 

"  Sir,  I  shall  be  amenable  to  reason,"  said  Captain  Dal- 
^etty,  "supposing  it  addresses  itself  to  my  honor  and  my 
interest.  Well,  then,  my  lord,  here  is  a  sort  of  Highland  host 
assembled,  or  expected  to  assemble,  in  these  wild  hills,  in  the 
King's  behalf.  Now,  sir,  you  know  the  nature  of  our  High- 
landers. I  will  not  deny  them  to  be  a  people  stout  in  body 
and  valiant  in  heart,  and  courageous  enough  in  their  own 
wild  way  of  fighting,  which  is  as  remote  from  the  usages  and 
discipline  of  war  as  ever  was  that  of  the  ancient  Scythians 
or  of  the  savage  Indians  of  America  that  now  is.  They 
havena  sae  mickle  as  a  German  whistle  or  a  drum  to  beat  a 
march,  an  alarm,  a  charge,  a  retreat,  a  reveille,  or  the  tattoo, 
or  any  other  point  of  war  ;  and  their  damnable  skirlin'  pipes, 
whilk  they  themselves  pretend  to  understand,  are  unintelli- 
gible to  the  ears  of  any  cavaliero  accustomed  to  civilized  war- 
fare. So  that,  were  I  undertaking  to  discipline  such  a 
breechless  mob,  it  were  impossible  for  me  to  be  understood  ; 
and  if  I  were  understood,  judge  ye,  my  lord,  what  chance  I 
had  of  being  obeyed  among  a  band  of  half  savages,  who  are 
accustomed  to  pay  to  their  own  lairds  and  chiefs,  allenarly, 
that  respect  and  obedience  whilk  ought  to  be  paid  to  com- 
raissionate  officers.  If  I  were  teaching  them  to  form  battalia 
by  extracting  the  square  root,  that  is,  by  forming  your  square 
battalion  of  equal  number  of  men  of  rank  and  file,  corre- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  167 

tiponding  to  the  square  root  of  the  full  number  present,  what 
return  could  I  expect  for  communicating  this  golden  secret 
of  military  tactic  except  it  may  be  a  dirk  in  my  wame,  on 
placing  some  M^Alister  More,  M'Shemei,  or  Capperfae  in  the 
flank  or  rear  when  he  claimed  to  be  in  the  van  ?  Truly,  well 
saith  Holy  Writ,  ^  If  ye  cast  pearls  before  swine,  they  will 
turn  again  and  rend  je/'' 

"  I  believe,  Anderson,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  looking  back 
to  one  of  his  servants,  for  both  were  close  behind  him,  ''  you 
can  assure  this  gentleman  we  shall  have  more  occasion  for 
experienced  officers,  and  be  more  disposed  to  profit  by  their 
instructions,  than  he  seems  to  be  aware  of." 

'^With  your  honoris  permission,"  said  Anderson,  respect- 
fully raising  his  cap,  "  when  we  are  joined  by  the  Irish  in- 
fantry, who  are  expected,  and  who  should  be  landed  in  the 
West  Highlands  before  now,  we  shall  have  need  of  good  sol- 
diers to  discipline  our  levies." 

''^  And  I  should  like  well,  very  well,  to  be  employed  in  such 
service,"  said  Dalgetty.  '*  The  Irish  are  pretty  fellows — very 
pretty  fellows  ;  I  desire  to  see  none  better  in  the  field.  I  once 
saw  a  brigade  of  Irish,  at  the  taking  of  Frankfort  upon  the 
Oder,  stand  to  it  with  sword  and  pike  until  they  beat  off  the 
blue  and  yellow  Swedish  brigades,  esteemed  as  stout  as  any 
that  fought  under  the  immortal  Gustavus.  And  although 
stout  Hepburn,  valiant  Lumsdale,  courageous  Monro,  with 
myself  and  other  cavaliers,  made  entry  elsewhere  at  point  of 
pike,  yet,  had  we  all  met  with  such  opposition,  we  had  re- 
turned with  great  loss  and  little  profit.  Wherefore  these- 
valiant  Irishes,  being  all  put  to  the  sword,  as  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  did  nevertheless  gain  immortal  praise  and  honor ; 
so  that,  for  their  sakes,  I  have  always  loved  and  honored  those 
of  that  nation  next  to  my  own  country  of  Scotland." 

''  A  command  of  Irish,"  said  Menteith,  ''  1  think  I  could 
almost  promise  you,  should  you  be  disposed  to  embrace  the 
royal  cause." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  ''  my  second  and  great- 
est difficulty  remains  behind  :  for,  although  I  hold  it  a  mean 
and  sordid  thing  for  a  soldado  to  have  nothing  in  his  mouth 
but  pay  and  gelt,  like  the  base  cullions,  the  German  lanz- 
knechts,  whom  I  mentioned  before  ;  and  although  I  will  main- 
tain it  with  my  sword  that  honor  is  to  be  preferred  before  pay, 
free  quarters,  and  arrears,  yet,  ex  contrario,  a  soldier's  pay 
being  the  counterpart  of  his  engagement  of  service,  it  becomes 
a  wise  and  considerate  cavalier  to  consider  what  remunera- 
tion he  is  to  receive  for  his  service,  and  from  what  funds  it 


168  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

is  to  be  paid.  And  truly,  my  lord,  from  what  I  can  see  and 
hear,  the  Convention  are  the  purse-masters.  The  High- 
landers, indeed,  may  be  kept  in  humor  by  allowing  them  to 
steal  cattle  ;  and  for  the  Irishes,  your  lordship  and  your 
noble  associates  may,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  wars  in 
such  cases,  pay  them  as  seldom  or  as  little  as  may  suit  your 
pleasure  or  convenience  ;  but  the  same  mode  of  treatment 
doth  not  apply  to  a  cavalier  like  me,  who  must  keep  up  his 
horses,  servants,  arms,  and  equipage,  and  who  neither  can  nor 
will  go  to  warfare  upon  his  own  charges.'^ 

Anderson,  the  domestic  who  had  before  spoken,  now  re- 
spectfully addressed  his  master.  "  I  think,  my  lord,''  he 
said,  **  that,  under  your  lordship's  favor,  I  could  say  something 
to  remove  Captain  Dalgetty's  second  objection  also.  He 
asks  us  where  we  are  to  collect  our  pay  ;  now,  in  my  poor 
mind,  the  resources  are  as  open  to  us  as  to  the  Covenanters. 
They  tax  the  country  according  to  their  pleasure,  and  dilapi- 
date the  estates  of  the  King's  friends  ;  now,  were  we  once  in 
the  Lowlands,  with  our  Highlanders  and  our  Irish  at  our 
backs,  and  our  swords  in  our  hands,  we  can  find  many  a  fat 
traitor,  whose  ill-gotten  wealth  shall  fill  our  military  chest 
and  satisfy  our  soldiery.  Besides,  confiscations  will  fall  in 
thick  ;  and,  in  giving  donations  of  forfeited  lands  to  every 
adventurous  cavalier  who  joins  his  standard,  the  King  will  at 
once  reward  his. friends  and  punish  his  enemies.  In  short,  he 
that  joins  these  Roundhead  dogs  may  get  some  miserable  pit- 
tance of  pay  ;  he  that  joins  our  standard  has  a  chance  to  be 
knight,  lord,  or  earl,  if  luck  serve  him." 

*^  Have  you  ever  served,  my  good  friend  ?"  said  the  Cap- 
tain to  the  spokesman. 

"  A  little,  sir,  in  these  our  domestic  quarrels,"  answered 
the  man,  modestly. 

'*  But  never  in  Germany  or  the  Low  Countries  ?"  said 
Dalgetty. 

"  I  never  had  the  honor,"  answered  Anderson. 

*'l  profess,"  said  Dalgetty,  addressing  Lord  Menteith, 
"your  lordship's  servant  has  a  sensible,  natural,  pretty  idea 
of  military  matters ;  somewhat  irregular,  though,  and  smells 
a  little  too  much  of  selling  the  bear's  skin  before  he  has 
hunted  him.  I  will  take  the  matter,  however,  into  my  con- 
sideration." 

"  Do  so.  Captain,"  said  Lord  Menteith  ;  "you  will  have 
the  night  to  think  of  it,  for  we  are  now  near  the  house  where 
I  hope  to  insure  you  a  hospitable  reception." 

"  And  that  is  what  will  be  very  welcome,"  said  the  Cap- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  169 

tain,  ''  for  I  have  tasted  no  food  since  daybreak  but  a  farl  of 
oat-cake,  which  I  divided  with  my  horse.  So  I  have  been 
fain  to  draw  my  sword-belt  three  bores  tighter  for  very 
extenuation,  lest  hunger  and  heavy  iron  should  make  the  gird 


CHAPTER  IV 

Once  on  a  time,  no  matter  when 

Some  glunimies  met  in  a  glen  ; 

As  deft  and  tight  as  ever  wore 

A  durk,  a  targe,  and  a  claymore, 

Short  hose,  and  belted  plaid  or  trews, 

In  Uist,  Lochaber,  Skye,  or  Lewes, 

Or  cover'd  hard  head  with  his  bonnet ; 

Had  you  but  known  them,  you  would  own  it. 

Meston. 

A  HILL  was  now  before  the  travellers,  covered  with  an  ancient 
forest  of  Scottish  firs,  the  topmost  of  which,  flinging  their 
scathed  branches  across  the  western  horizon,  gleamed  ruddy 
in  the  setting  sun.  In  the  centre  of  this  wood  rose  the  towers, 
or  rather  the  chimneys,  of  the  house,  or  castle,  as  it  was 
called,  destined  for  the  end  of  their  journey. 

As  usual  at  that  period,  one  or  two  high-ridged  narrow 
buildings,  intersecting  and  crossing  each  other,  formed  the 
corps  de  logis.  A  projecting  bartizan  or  two,  with  the  addi- 
tion of  small  turrets  at  the  angles,  much  resembling  pepper- 
boxes, had  procured  for  Darnlinvarach  *  the  dignified  appel- 
lation of  a  castle.  It  was  surrounded  by  a  low  courtyard 
wall,  within  which  were  the  usual  offices. 

As  the  travellers  approached  more  nearly,  they  discovered 
marks  of  recent  additions  to  the  defences  of  the  place,  which 
had  been  suggested,  doubtless,  by  the  insecurity  of  those 
troublesome  times.  Additional  loopholes  for  musketry  were 
struck  out  in  different  parts  of  the  building  and  of  its  sur- 
rounding wall.  The  windows  had  just  been  carefirtly  se- 
cured by  stanchions  of  iron,  crossing  each  other  athwart 
and  end-long,  like  the  grates  of  a  prison.  The  door  of  the 
courtyard  was  shut ;  and  it  was  only  after  cautious  chal- 
lenge that  one  of  its  leaves  was  opened  by  two  domestics,  both 
strong  Highlanders  and  both  under  arms,  like  Bitias  and 
Pandarus  in  the  uEneidy  ready  to  defend  the  entrance  if 
aught  hostile  had  ventured  an  intrusion. 

When  the  travellers  were  admitted  into  the  court,  they 
found  additional  preparations  for  defence.     The  walls  were 

*  Supposed  to  represent  Ardvoirlich  Castle,  on  Loch  Earn,  Perthshire  {Laing). 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  171 

scaffolded  for  the  use  of  firearms,  and  one  or  two  of  the 
small  guns  called  sackers  or  falcons  were  mounted  at  the 
angles  and  flanking  turrets. 

More  domestics,  both  in  the  Highland  and  Lowland  dress, 
instantly  rushed  from  the  interior  of  the  mansion,  and  some 
hastened  to  take  the  horses  of  the  strangers,  while  others 
waited  to  marshal  them  a  way  into  the  dwelling-house.  But 
Captain  Dalgetty  refused  the  proffered  assistance  of  those 
who  wished  to  relieve  him  of  the  charge  of  his  horse.  "  It  is 
my  custom,  my  friends,  to  see  Gustavus — for  so  I  have  called 
him,  after  my  invincible  master — accommodated  myself  ;  we 
are  old  friends  and  fellow-travellers,  and,  as  I  often  need  the 
use  of  his  legs,  I  always  lend  him  in  my  turn  the  service  of 
my  tongue  to  call  for  whatever  he  has  occasion  for ; "  and 
accordingly  he  strode  into  the  stable  after  his  steed  without 
farther  apology. 

Neither  Lord  Menteith  nor  his  attendants  paid  the  same 
attention  to  their  horses,  but,  leaving  them  to  the  proffered 
care  of  the  servants  of  the  place,  walked  forward  into  the 
house,  where  a  sort  of  dark  vaulted  vestibule  displayed,  among 
other  miscellaneous  articles,  a  huge  barrel  of  twopenny  ale, 
beside  which  were  ranged  two  or  three  wooden  queichs  or 
bickers,  ready,  it  would  appear,  for  the  service  of  whoever 
thought  proper  to  employ  them.  Lord  Menteith  applied  him- 
self to  the  spigot,  drank  without  ceremony,  and  then  handed 
the  stoup  to  Anderson,  who  followed  his  master^s  example, 
but  not  until  he  had  flung  out  the  drop  of  ale  which  remained, 
and  slightly  rinsed  the  wooden  cup. 

"What  the  deil,  man,''  said  an  old  Highland  servant  be- 
longing to  the  family,  *'  can  she  no  drink  after  her  ain  master 
without  washing  the  cup  and  spilling  the  ale,  and  be  tamned 
to  her  ! " 

*'  I  was  bred  in  France,"  answered  Anderson,  "where  no- 
body drinks  after  another  out  of  the  same  cup,  unless  it  be 
after  a  young  lady.'' 

"The  teil's  in  their  nicety  !"  said  Donald  ;  "and  if  the 
ale  be  gude,  fat  the  waur  is't  that  another  man's  beard's  been 
in  the  queich  before  ye  ?  " 

Anderson's  companion  drank  without  observing  the  cere- 
mony which  had  given  Donald  so  much  ofl'ence,  and  both  of 
them  followed  their  master  into  the  low-arched  stone  hall, 
which  was  the  common  rendezvous  of  a  Highland  family.  A 
large  fire  of  peats  in  the  huge  chimney  at  the  upper  end  shed  a 
dim  light  through  the  apartment,  and  was  rendered  necessary 
by  the  damp,  by  which,  even  during  the  summer,  the  apart- 


172  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ment  was  rendered  uncomfortable.  Twenty  or  thirty  targets, 
as  many  claymores,  with  dirks,  and  plaids,  and  guns,  both 
matchlock  and  firelock,  and  long-bows,  and  cross-bows,  and 
Lochaber  axes,  and  coats  of  plate  armor,  and  steel  bonnets,  and 
head-pieces,  and  the  more  ancient  habergeons,  or  shirts  of 
reticulated  mail,  with  hood  and  sleeves  corresponding  to  it,  all 
hung  in  confusion  about  the  walls,  and  would  have  formed  a 
month's  amusement  to  a  member  of  a  modern  antiquarian 
society.  But  such  things  were  too  familiar  to  attract  much 
observation  on  the  part  of  the  present  spectators. 

There  was  a  large  clumsy  oaken  table,  which  the  hasty 
hospitality  of  the  domestic  who  had  before  spoken  immedi- 
ately spread  with  milk,  butter,  goat-milk  cheese,  a  flagon  of 
beer,  and  a  flask  of  usquebaugh,  designed  for  the  refreshment 
of  Lord  Menteith ;  while  an  inferior  servant  made  similar 
preparations  at  the  bottom  of  the  table  for  the  benefit  of  his 
attendants.  The  space  which  intervened  between  them  was, 
according  to  the  manners  of  the  times,  sufficient  distinction 
between  master  and  servant,  even  though  the  former  was,  as 
in  the  present  instance,  of  high  rank.  Meanwhile  the  guests 
stood  by  the  fire — the  young  nobleman  under  the  chimney, 
and  his  servants  at  some  little  distance. 

'^  What  do  you  think,  Anderson,"  said  the  former,  "of 
our  fellow-traveller  ?  '* 

^'  A  stout  fellow,"  replied  Anderson,  "  if  all  be  good  that 
is  upcome.  I  wish  we  had  twenty  such,  to  put  our  Teagues 
into  some  sort  of  discipline." 

"I  differ  from  you,  Anderson," said  Lord  Menteith  ;  "I 
think  this  fellow  Dilgetty  is  one  of  those  horse-leeches,  whose 
appetite  for  blood  being  only  sharpened  by  what  he  has 
sucked  in  foreign  countries,  he  is  now  returned  to  batten  upon 
that  of  his  own.  Shame  on  the  pack  of  these  mercenary- 
swordsmen  !  They  have  made  the  name  of  Scot  through  all 
Europe  equivalent  to  that  of  a  pitiful  mercenary,  who  knows 
neither  honor  nor  principle  but  his  month's  pay,  who  trans- 
fers his  allegiance  from  standard  to  standard  at  the  pleasure 
of  fortune  or  the  highest  bidder,  and  to  whose  insatiable 
thirst  for  plunder  and  warm  quarters  we  owe  much  of  that 
civil  dissension  which  is  now  turning  our  swords  against  our 
own  bowels.  I  had  scarce  patience  with  the  hired  gladiator, 
and  yet  could  hardly  help  laughing  at  the  extremity  of  his 
impudence." 

*' Your  lordship  will  forgive  me,"  said  Anderson,  ''if  I 
recommend  to  you,  in  the  present  circumstances,  to  conceal 
at  least  a  part  of  this  generous  indignation  ;  we  cannoti 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  173 

anfortunately,  do  our  work  without  the  assistance  of  those 
who  act  on  baser  motives  than  our  own.  We  cannot  spare 
the  assistance  of  such  fellows  as  our  friend  the  soldado.  To 
use  the  canting  phrase  of  the  saints  in  the  English  Parliament, 
the  sons  of  Zeruiah  are  still  too  many  for  us/' 

^'1  must  dissemble,  then,  as  well  as  I  can,"  said  Lord 
Menteith,  *^'  as  I  have  hitherto  done,  upon  your  hint.  But  I 
wish  the  fellow  at  the  devil  with  all  my  heart/' 

^'  Ay,  but  still  you  must  remember,  my  lord,''  resumed 
Anderson,  *^  that  to  cure  the  bite  of  a  scorpion  you  must  crush 
another  scorpion  on  the  wound.  But  stop,  we  shall  be  over- 
heard." 

From  a  side  door  in  the  hall  glided  a  Highlander  into  the 
apartment,  whose  lofty  stature  and  complete  equipment,  as 
well  as  the  eagle/s  feather  in  his  bonnet  and  the  confidence  of 
his  demeanor,  announced  to  be  a  person  of  superior  rank. 
He  walked  slowly  up  to  the  table,  and  made  no  answer  to 
Lord  Menteith,  who,  addressing  him  by  the  name  of  Allan, 
asked  him  how  he  did. 

^'  Ye  manna  speak  to  her  e'en  now,"  whispered  the  old 
attendant. 

The  tall  Highlander,  sinking  down  upon  the  empty  settle 
next  the  fire,  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  red  embers  and  the  huge 
heap  of  turf,  and  seemed  buried  in  profound  abstraction. 
His  dark  eves  and  wild  and  enthusiastic  features  bore  the  air 
of  one  who,  deeply  impressed  with  his  own  subjects  of 
meditation,  pays  little  attention  to  exterior  objects.  An  air 
of  gloomy  severity,  the  fruit  perhaps  of  ascetic  and  solitary 
habits,  might,  in  a  Lowlander,  have  been  ascribed  to  religious 
fanaticism  ;  but  by  that  disease  of  the  mind,  then  so  common 
both  in  England  and  the  Lowlands  of  Scotland,  the  High- 
landers of  this  period  were  rarely  infected.  They  had, 
however,  their  own  peculiar  superstitions,  which  overclouded 
the  mind  with  thick-coming  fancies  as  completely  as  the 
Puritanism  of  their  neighbors. 

"  His  lordship's  honor,"  said  the  Highland  servant,  sid- 
ling up  to  Lord  Menteith,  and  speaking  in  a  very  low  tone — 
*^  his  lordship  manna  speak  to  Allan  even  now,  for  the  cloud 
is  upon  his  mind." 

Lord  Menteith  nodded,  and  took  no  farther  notice  of  the 
reserved  mountaineer. 

"Said  I  not,"  asked  the  latter,  suddenly  raising  his  stately 
person  upright  and  looking  at  the  domestic — "  said  I  not  that 
four  were  to  come,  and  here  stand  but  three  on  the  halJ 
lloor?" 


174  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"In  troth  did  ye  say  sae,  Allan,"  said  the  old  Highlander, 
*'and  here's  the  fourth  man  coming  clinking  in  at  the  yett 
e'en  now  from  the  stable,  for  he's  shelled  like  a  partan,  wi* 
airn  on  back  and  breast,  haunch  and  shanks.  And  am  I  to 
set  her  chair  up  near  the  Menteith's,  or  down  wi'  the  honest 
gentlemen  at  the  foot  of  the  table  ?  " 

Lord  Menteith  himself  answered  the  inquiry  by  pointing 
to  a  seat  beside  his  own. 

*'  And  here  she  comes,"  said  Donald,  as  Captain  Dalgetty 
entered  the  hall;  *'and  I  hope  gentlemens  will  all  take 
bread  and  cheese,  as  we  say  in  the  glens,  until  better  meat  be 
read}^ — until  the  Tiernach  comes  back  frae  the  hill  wi'  the 
southern  gentlefolk,  and  then  Dugald  Cook  will  show  him- 
self wi'  his  kid  and  hill  venison." 

In  the  mean  time.  Captain  Dalgetty  had  entered  the 
apartment,  and,  walking  up  to  the  seat  placed  next  Lord  Men- 
teith, was  leaning  on  the  back  of  it  with  his  arms  folded. 
Anderson  and  his  companion  waited  at  the  bottom  of  the 
table,  in  a  respectful  attitude,  until  they  should  receive  per- 
mission to  seat  themselves ;  while  three  or  four  Highlanders, 
under  the  direction  of  old  Donald,  ran  hither  and  thither  to 
bring  additional  articles  of  food,  or  stood  still  to  give  at- 
tenaance  upon  the  guests. 

In  the  midst  of  these  preparations  Allan  suddenly  started 
up,  and,  snatching  a  lamp  from  the  hand  of  an  attendant,  held 
it  close  to  Dalgetty's  face,  while  he  perused  his  features  with 
the  most  heedful  and  grave  attention. 

"  By  my  honor,"  said  Dalgetty,  half -displeased,  as,  mys- 
teriously shaking  his  head,  Allan  gave  up  the  scrutiny,  "  I 
trow  that  lad  and  I  will  ken  each  other  when  we  meet  again." 

Meanwhile  Allan  strode  to  the  bottom  of  the  table,  and 
having,  by  the  aid  of  his  lamp,  subjected  Anderson  and  his 
companion  to  the  same  investigation,  stood  a  moment  as  if  in 
deep  reflection;  then,  touching  his  forehead,  suddenly  seized 
Anderson  by  the  arm,  and,  before  he  could  offer  any  effectual 
resistance,  half-led  and  half-dragged  him  to  the  vacant  seat 
at  the  upper  end,  and  having  made  a  mute  intimation  that  he 
should  tnere  place  himself,  he  hurried  the  soldado  with  the 
same  unceremonious  precipitation  to  the  bottom  of  the  table. 
The  Captain,  exceedingly  incensed  at  this  freedom,  endeav- 
ored to  shake  Allan  from  him  with  violence  ;  but,  powerful 
as  he  was,  he  proved  in  the  struggle  inferior  to  the  gigantic 
mountaineer,  who  threw  him  off  with  such  violence  that,  after 
reeling  a  few  paces,  he  fell  at  full  length,  and  the  vaulted  hall 
rang  with  the  clash  of  .his  armor.     When  he  arose,  his  first 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  175 

action  was  to  draw  his  sword  and  to  fly  at  Allan,  who,  with 
folded  arms,  seemed  to  await  his  onset  with  the  most  scorn- 
ful indifference.  Lord  Menteith  and  his  attendants  inter- 
posed to  preserve  peace,  while  the  Highlanders,  snatching 
weapons  from  the  wall,  seemed  prompt  to  increase  the  broil. 

'^He  is  mad,^^  whispered  Lord  Menteith — *^'heis  perfectly- 
mad  ;  there  is  no  purpose  in  quarrelling  with  him."*' 

'^If  your  lordship  is  assured  that  he  is  non  compos  men- 
tis," said  Captain  Dalgetty,  "the  whilk  his  breeding  and  be- 
havior seem  to  testify,  the  matter  must  end  here,  seeing  that 
a  madman  can  neither  give  an  affront  nor  render  honorable 
satisfaction.  But,  by  my  saul,  if  I  had  my  provant  and  a 
bottle  of  Ehenish  under  my  belt,  I  should  have  stood  other- 
ways  up  to  him.  And  yet  it^s  a  pity  he  should  be  sae  weak 
in  the  intellectuals,  being  a  strong  proper  man  of  body,  fit  to 
handle  pike,  morgenstern,*  or  any  other  military  implement 
whatsoever.  ^^ 

Peace  was  thus  restored,  and  the  party  seated  themselves 
agreeably  to  their  former  arrangement,  with  which  Allan, 
who  had  now  returned  to  his  settle  by  the  fire,  and  seemed 
once  more  immersed  in  meditation,  did  not  again  interfere. 
Lord  Menteith,  addressing  the  principal  domestic,  hastened 
to  start  some  theme  of  conversation  which  might  obliterate 
all  recollection  of  the  fray  that  had  taken  place.  **  The  Laird 
is  at  the  hill  then,  Donald,  I  understand,  and  some  English 
strangers  with  him  ?"" 

"At  the  hill  he  is,  an  it  like  your  honor,  and  two  Saxon 
calabaleros  are  with  him,  sure  eneugh  ;  and  that  is  Sir  Miles 
Musgrave  and  Christopher  Hall,  both  from  the  Cumraik,  as 
I  think  they  call  their  country." 

"Hall  and  Musgrave  ?"  said  Lord  Menteith,  looking  at 
his  attendants,  "  the  very  men  that  we  wished  to  see." 

"  Troth,"  said  Donald,  "  an'  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  them 
between  the  een,  for  theyVe  come  to  herrv  us  out  o'  house 
and  ha^" 

"Why,  Donald,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "you  did  not  use 
to  be  so  churlish  of  your  beef  and  ale  ;  southland  though  they 
be,  they'll  scarce  eat  up  all  the  cattle  that's  going  on  the  cas- 
tle mains." 

" Teil  care  an  they  did,"  said  Donald,  "an  that  were  the 
warst  o't,  for  we  have  a  wheen  canny  trewsmen  here  that 
wadna  let  us  want  if  there  was  a  horned  beast  at  ween  this 
and  Perth.  But  this  is  a  warse  job  :  it's  nae  less  than  a 
wager." 

♦See  Note  1. 


176  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*'A  wager  P'  repeated  Lord  Menteith,  with  some  sur- 
prise. 

"  Troth/'  continued  Donald,  to  the  full  as  eager  to  tell 
his  news  as  Lord  Menteith  was  curious  to  hear  them,  "  as 
your  lordship  is  a  friend  and  kinsman  o'  the  house,  an'  as  ye'U 
hear  eneugh  o't  in  less  than  an  hour,  I  may  as  weel  tell  ye 
mysell.  Ye  sail  be  pleased  then  to  know  that,  when  our 
Laird  was  up  in  England,  where  he  gangs  of  tener  than  his 
friends  can  wish,  he  was  biding  at  the  house  o'  this  Sir  Miles 
Musgrave,  an'  there  was  putten  on  the  table  six  candlesticks, 
that  they  tell  me  were  twice  as  muckle  as  the  candlesticks  in 
Dunblane  kirk,  and  neither  airn,  brass,  nor  tin,  but  a'  solid 
silver,  nae  less — up  wi'  their  English  pride,  has  sae  muckle, 
and  kens  sae  little  how  to  guide  it !  Sae  they  began  to  jeer 
the  Laird,  that  he  saw  nae  sic  graith  in  his  ain  poor 
country ;  and  the  Laird,  scorning  to  hae  his  country  put 
down  without  a  word  for  its  credit,  swore,  like  a  gude  Scots- 
man, that  he  had  mair  candlesticks,  and  better  candlesticks, 
in  his  ain  castle  at  hame,  than  were  ever  lighted  in  a 
hall  in  Cumberland,  an  Cumberland  be  the  name  o'  the 
country." 

''That  was  patriotically  said,"  observed  Lord  Menteith. 

''Fary  true,"  said  Donald;  ''but  her  honor  had  better 
hae  hauden  her  tongue ;  for,  if  ye  say  onything  amang  the 
Saxons  that's  a  wee  by  ordinar,  they  clink  ye  down  for  a 
wager  as  fast  as  a  Lowland  smith  would  hammer  shoon  on  a 
Highland  shelty.  An'  so  the  Laird  behoved  either  to  gae 
back  o'  his  word  or  wager  twa  hunder  merks  ;  and  so  he  e'en 
took  the  wager,  rather  than  be  shamed  wi'  the  like  o'  them. 
And  now  he's  like  to  get  it  to  pay,  and  I'm  thinking  that's 
what  makes  him  sae  swear  to  come  hame  at  e'en." 

" Indeed,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "from  my  idea  of  your 
family  plate,  Donald,  your  master  is  certain  to  lose  such  a 
wager." 

"  Your  honor  may  swear  that ;  an'  where  he's  to  get  the 
siller  I  kenna,  although  he  borrowed  out  o'  twenty  purses.  I 
advised  him  to  pit  the  twa  Saxon  gentlemen  and  their 
servants  cannily  into  the  pit  o'  the  tower  till  they  gae  up 
the  bargain  o'  free  gude-will,  but  the  Laird  winna  hear 
reason." 

Allan  here  started  up,  strode  forward,  and  interrupted 
the  conversation,  saying  to  the  domestic  in  a  voice  like 
thunder,  "  And  how  dared  you  to  give  my  brother  such  dis- 
honorable advice  ?  or  how  dare  you  to  say  he  will  lose  this  or 
any  other  wager  which  it  is  his  pleasure  to  lay  ?  " 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  177 

'*^  Troth,  Allan  M'Aulay/^  answered  the  old  man,  ^*^it's 
no  for  my  father^s  son  to  gainsay  what  your  father's  son 
thinks  fit  to  say,  an'  so  the  Laird  may  no  doubt  win  his 
wager.  A'  that  I  ken  against  it  is,  that  the  teil  a  candlestick, 
or  onything  like  it,  is  in  the  house,  except  the  auld  airn 
branches  that  hae  been  here  since  Laird  Kenneth's  time,  and 
the  tin  sconces  that  your  father  garred  be  made  by  auld  Willie 
Winkie  the  tinkler,  mair  betoken  that  deil  an  unce  of  siller 
plate  is  about  the  house  at  a',  forbye  the  lady's  auld  posset 
dish,  that  wants  the  cover  and  ane  o'  the  lugs." 

*'  Peace,  old  man  ! "  said  Allan,  fiercely  ;  '^and  do  you, 
gentlemen,  if  your  refection  is  finished,  leave  this  apartment 
clear  ;  I  must  prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  these  southern 
guests." 

''  Come  away,"  said  the  domestic,  pulling  Lord 
Menteith  by  the  sleeve  ;  ^^^lis  hour  is  on  him,"  said  he, 
looking  towards  Allan,  *^  and  he  will  not  be  controlled." 

They  left  the  hall  accordingly.  Lord  Menteith  and  the 
Captain  being  ushered  one  way  by  old  Donald,  and  the  two 
attendants  conducted  elsewhere  by  another  Highlander.  The 
former  had  scarcely  reached  a  sort  of  withdrawing  apartment 
ere  they  were  joined  by  the  lord  of  the  mansion,  Angus 
M'Aulay  by  name,  and  his  English  guests.  Great  joy  was 
expressed  by  all  parties,  for  Lord  Menteith  and  the  English 
gentlemen  were  well  known  to  each  other  ;  and  on  Lord 
Menteith's  introduction  Captain  Dalgetty  was  well  received 
by  the  Laird.  But,  after  the  first  burst  of  hospitable  con- 
gratulation was  over.  Lord  Menteith  could  observe  that  there 
was  a  shade  of  sadness  on  the  brow  of  his  Highland  friend. 

"You  must  have  heard,"  said  Sir  Christopher  Hall, 
*' that  our  fine  undertaking  in  Cumberland  is  all  blown  up. 
The  militia  would  not  march  into  Scotland,  and  your  prick- 
eared  Covenanters  have  been  too  hard  for  our  friends  in  the 
southern  shires.  And  so,  understanding  there  is  some  stir- 
ring work  here,  Musgrave  and  I,  rather  than  sit  idle  at  home, 
are  come  to  have  a  campaign  among  your  kilts  and  plaids." 

"  I  hope  you  have  brought  arms,  men,  and  money  with 
you,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  smiling. 

"  Only  some  dozen  or  two  of  troopers,  whom  we  left  at  the 
last  Lowland  village,"  said  Musgrave,  ''  and  trouble  enough 
we  had  to  get  them  so  far." 

"  As  for  money,"  said  his  companion,  "  we  expect  a  small 
supply  from  our  friend  and  host  here." 

The  Laird  now,  coloring  highly,  took  Menteith  a  little 
apart,  and  expressed  to  him  his  regret  that  he  had  fallen  into 
a  foolish  blunder. 


178  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''I  heard  it  from  Donald,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  scarce 
able  to  suppress  a  smile. 

"  Devil  take  that  old  man/'  said  M'Aulay,  ''  he  would 
tell  everything,  were  it  to  cost  one's  life  ;  but  it's  no  jesting 
matter  to  you  neither,  my  lord,  for  I  reckon  on  your  friendly 
and  fraternal  benevolence,  as  a  near  kinsman  of  our  house,  to 
help  me  out  with  the  money  due  to  these  pock-puddings  ;  or 
else,  to  be  plain  wi'  ye,  the  deil  a  M'Aulay  will  there  be  at  the 
muster,  for  curse  me  if  I  do  not  turn  Covenanter  rather  than 
face  these  fellows  without  paying  them ;  and,  at  the  best, 
I  shall  be  ill  enough  off,  getting  both  the  skaith  and  the 
scorn." 

"You  may  suppose,  cousin,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "I  am 
not  too  well  equipped  just  now ;  but  you  may  be  assured  I 
shall  endeavor  to  help  you  as  well  as  I  can,  for  tlie  sake  of  old 
kindred,  neighborhood,  and  alliance." 

"  Thank  ye — thank  ye — thank  ye,"  reiterated  M'Aulay  ; 
*'  and,  as  they  are  to  spend  the  money  in  the  King's  service, 
what  signifies  whether  you,  they,  or  1  pay  it  ?  we  are  a'  one 
man's  bairns,  I  hope  ?  But  you  must  help  me  out  too  with 
some  reasonable  excuse,  or  else  I  shall  be  for  taking  to 
Andrew  Ferrara  ;  for  I  like  not  to  be  treated  like  a  liar  or  a 
braggart  at  my  own  board-end,  when,  God  knows,  I  only 
meant  to  support  my  honor  and  that  of  my  family  and 
country." 

Donald,  as  they  were  speaking,  entered  with  rather  a 
blither  face  than  he  might  have  been  expected  to  wear,  con- 
sidering the  impending  fate  of  his  master's  purse  and  credit. 
'*  Gentlemens,  her  dinner  is  ready,  and  her  candles  are  lighted 
too"  said  Donald,  with  a  strong  guttural  emphasis  on  the 
last  clause  of  his  speech. 

''What  the  devil  can  he  mean  ?"  said  Musgrave,  looking 
to  his  countryman. 

Lord  Menteith  put  the  same  question  with  his  eyes  to  the 
Laird,  which  M'Aulay  answered  by  shaking  his  head. 

A  short  dispute  about  precedence  somewhat  delayed  their 
leaving  the  apartment.  Lord  Menteith  insisted  upon  yield- 
ing up  that  which  belonged  to  his  rank,  on  consideration  of 
his  bein^  in  his  own  country,  and  of  his  near  connection  with 
the  famdy  in  which  they  found  themselves.  The  two  Eng- 
lish strangers,  therefore,  were  first  ushered  into  the  hall, 
where  an  unexpected  display  awaited  them.  The  large  oaken 
table  was  spread  with  substantial  joints  of  meat,  and  seat? 
were  placed  in  order  for  the  guests.  Behind  every  seat  stood 
a  gigantic  Highlander,  completely  dressed  and  armed  aftei 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  17d 

the  fashion  of  his  country,  holding  in  his  right  hand  his 
drawn  sword  with  the  point  turned  downwards,  and  in  the 
left  a  blazing  torch  made  of  the  bog-pine.  This  wood,  found 
in  the  morasses,  is  so  full  of  turpentine  that,  when  splir  and 
dried,  it  is  frequently  used  in  the  Highlands  instead  of 
candles.  The  unexpected  and  somewhat  startling  apparition 
was  seen  by  the  red  glare  of  the  torches,  which  displayed  the 
wild  features,  unusual  dress,  and  glittering  arms  of  those  who 
bore  them,  while  the  smoke,  eddying  up  to  the  roof  of  the  hall, 
over-canopied  them  with  a  volume  of  vapor.  Ere  the 
strangers  had  recovered  from  their  surprise,  Allan  stepped  for- 
ward and,  pointing  with  his  sheathed  broadsword  to  the  torch- 
bearers,  said,  in  a  deep  and  stern  tone  of  voice,  ''  Behold, 
gentlemen  cavaliers,  the  chandeliers  of  my  brother^s  house, 
the  ancient  fashion  of  our  ancient  name.  Xot  one  of  these 
men  knows  any  law  but  their  Chief's  command.  Would  you 
dare  to  compare  to  them  in  value  the  richest  ore  that  ever 
was  dug  out  of  the  mine  ?  How  say  you,  cavaliers  ?  is  your 
wager  won  or  lost  ? '' 

*^Lost,  lost,'' said  Musgrave,  gayly ;  *'my  own  silver 
candlesticks  are  all  melted  and  riding  on  horseback  by  this 
time,  and  I  wish  the  fellows  that  enlisted  were  half  as  trusty 
as  these.  Here,  sir,''  he  added  to  the  Chief,  "  is  your  money  ; 
it  impairs  Hall's  finances  and  mine  somewhat,  but  debts  of 
honor  must  be  settled." 

*'  My  father's  curse  upon  my  father's  son,"  said  Allan, 
interrupting  him,  "if  he  receive  from  you  one  penny !  It  is 
enough  that  you  claim  no  right  to  exact  from  him  what  is 
his  own." 

Lord  Menteith  eagerly  supported  Allan's  opinion,  and  the 
elder  M'Aulay  readily  joined,  declaring  the  whole  to  be  a 
fool's  business,  and  not  worth  speaking  more  about.  The 
Englishmen,  after  some  courteous  opposition,  were  persuaded 
to  regard  the  whole  as  a  joke. 

**  And  now,  Allan,"  said  the  Laird,  "  please  to  remove 
your  candles ;  for,  since  the  Saxon  gentlemen  have  seen 
them,  they  will  eat  their  dinner  as  comfortably  by  the  light 
of  the  old  tin  sconces,  without  scomfishing  them  with  so 
much  smoke." 

Accordingly,  at  a  sign  from  Allan,  the  living  chandeliers, 
recovering  their  broadswords  and  holding  the  point  erect, 
marched  out  of  the  hall  and  left  the  guests  to  enjoy  their 
refreshment.  * 

*  Such  a  bet  as  that  mentioned  in  the  text  is  said  to  have  been  taken  by  Mac- 
Donald  of  Keppoch,  who  extricated  himself  in  the  manner  here  narrated. 


CHAPTER  V 


Thareby  so  f earlesse  and  so  fell  he  grewe 
That  his  own  syre  and  maister  of  his  guise 
Did  often  tremble  at  his  horrid  view  ; 
And  oft  for  dread  of  hurt  would  him  advise, 
The  angry  beastes  not  rashly  to  despise, 
Nor  too  much  to  provoke ;  for  he  would  learne 
The  lyon  stoup  to  him  in  lowly  wise, 
(A  lesson  hard),  and  make  the  libbard  sterna 
Leave  roaring,  when  in  rage  he  for  revenge  did  eame. 

Spenseb. 

NoTWiTHSTAN^DiNG  the  proverbial  epicurism  of  the  English 
— proverbial,  that  is  to  say,  in  Scotland  at  the  period — the 
English  visitors  made  no  figure  whatever  at  the  entertain- 
ment compared  with  the  portentous  voracity  of  Captain  Dal- 
getty,  although  that  gallant  soldier  had  already  displayed 
much  steadiness  and  pertinacity  in  his  attack  upon  the  lighter 
refreshment  set  before  them  at  their  entrance  by  way  of  for- 
lorn hope.  He  spoke  to  no  one  during  the  time  of  his  meal ; 
and  it  was  not  until  the  victuals  were  nearly  withdrawn  from 
the  table  that  he  gratified  the  rest  of  the  company,  who  had 
watched  him  with  some  surprise,  with  an  account  of  the 
reasons  why  he  ate  so  very  fast  and  so  very  long. 

*'  The  former  quality,"  he  said,  "  he  had  acquired  while 
he  filled  a  place  at  the  bursar's  table  at  the  Marischal  Col- 
lege of  Aberdeen ;  when,"  said  he,  *'  if  you  did  not  move 
your  jaws  as  fast  as  a  pair  of  castanets,  you  were  very  unlikely 
to  get  anything  to  put  between  them.  And  as  for  the  quantity 
of  my  food,  be  it  known  to  this  honorable  company,"  con- 
tinued the  Captain,  "  that  it's  the  duty  of  every  commander 
of  a  fortress,  on  all  occasions  which  offer,  to  secure  as  much 
munition  and  vivers  as  their  magazines  can  possibly  hold,  not 
knowing  when  they  may  have  to  sustain  a  siege  or  a  block- 
ade ;  upon  which  principle,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  '^  when  a 
cavalier  finds  that  provant  is  good  and  abundant,  he  will,  in 
my  estimation,  do  wisely  to  victual  himself  for  at  least  three 
days,  as  there  is  no  knowing  when  he  may  come  by  another 
meal." 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  181 

The  Laird  expressed  his  acquiescence  in  the  prndence  of 
this  principle,  and  recommended  to  the  veteran  to  add  a  tass 
of  brandy  and  a  flagon  of  claret  to  the  substantial  provisions 
he  had  already  laid  in,  to  which  proposal  the  Captain  readily 
agreed. 

When  dinner  was  removed  and  the  servants  had  withdrawn 
excepting  the  Laird's  page  or  henchman,  who  remained  in  th« 
apartment  to  call  for  or  bring  whatever  was  wanted,  or,  in  a 
word,  to  answer  the  purposes  of  a  modern  bell- wire,  the  con- 
versation began  to  turn  upon  politics  and  the  state  of  the 
country  ;  and  Lord  Menteith  inquired  anxiously  and  particu- 
larly what  clans  were  expected  to  join  the  proposed  muster  of 
the  King's  friends. 

"That  depends  much,  my  lord,  on  the  person  who  lifts 
the  banner,''  said  the  Laird  ;  ''for  you  know  we  Highlanders, 
when  a  few  clans  are  assembled,  are  not  easily  commanded  by 
one  of  our  own  Chiefs,  or,  to  say  the  truth,  by  any  other 
body.  We  have  heard  a  rumor,  indeed,  that  Colkitto — that  is, 
young  Colkitto,  or  Alaster  M'Donnell — is  come  over  the  kyle 
from  Ireland  with  a  body  of  the  Earl  of  Antrim's  people,  and 
that  they  had  got  as  far  as  Ardnamurchan.  They  might  have 
been  here  before  now,  but  I  suppose  they  loitered  to  plunder 
the  country  as  they  came  along." 

''  Will  Colkitto  not  serve  you  for  a  leader,  then  ?  "  said  Lord 
Menteith. 

''  Colkitto  !"  said  Allan  M'Aulay,  scornfully  ;  ''who talks 
of  Colkitto  ?  There  lives  but  one  man  whom  we  will  follow, 
and  that  is  Montrose." 

"  But  Montrose,  sir,"  said  Sir  Christopher  Hall,  "has  not 
been  heard  of  since  our  ineffectual  attempt  to  rise  in  the 
north  of  England.  It  is  thought  he  has  returned  to  the  King 
at  Oxford  for  farther  instructions." 

"  Returned  !"  said  Allan,  with  a  scornful  laugh  ;  "I  could 
tell  ye,  but  it  is  not  worth  my  while  ;  ye  will  know  soon 
enough." 

"  By  my  honor,  Allan,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "you  will 
weary  out  your  friends  with  this  intolerable,  forward,  and  sul- 
len humor.  But  I  know  the  reason,"  added  he,  laughingly ; 
"you  have  not  seen  Annot  Lyle  to-day." 

"  Whom  did  you  say  I  had  not  seen  ?  "  said  Allan,  sternly. 

"  Annot  Lyle,  the  fairy  queen  of  song  and  minstrelsy,'* 
said  Lord  Menteith. 

"  Would  to  God  I  were  never  to  see  her  again,"  said  Allan, 
sighing,  "  on  condition  the  same  weird  w^ere  laid  on  you  I" 

"And  why  on  me  ?"  said  Lord  Menteith,  carelessly. 


182  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

" Because/' said  Allan,  "it  is  written  on  your  forehead 
that  you  are  to  be  the  ruin  of  each  other."  So  saying,  he 
rose  up  and  left  the  room. 

"Has  he  been  long  in  this  way  ?"  asked  Lord  Menteith, 
addressing  his  brother. 

"  About  three  days/'  answered  Angus  ;  "the  fit  is  well- 
nigh  over,  he  will  be  better  to-morrow.  But  come,  gentle- 
men, don't  let  the  tappit-hen  scraugh  to  be  emptied.  The 
King's  health — King  Charles's  health  !  and  may  the  Cove- 
nanting dog  that  refuses  it  go  to  Heaven  by  the  road  of  the 
Grassmarket  !" 

The  health  was  quickly  pledged,  and  as  fast  succeeded  by 
another  and  another  and  another,  all  of  a  party  cast,  and 
enforced  in  an  earnest  manner.  Captain  Dalgetty,  however, 
thought  it  necessary  to  enter  a  protest. 

"Gentlemen  cavaliers,"  he  said,  "I  drink  these  healths, 
primo,  both  out  of  respect  to  this  honorable  and  hospitable 
roof -tree,  and,  secundo,  because  I  hold  it  not  good  to  be  pre- 
ceese  in  such  matters,  ifiter  pocula  ;  but  I  protest,  agreeable 
to  the  warrandice  granted  by  this  honorable  lord,  that  it 
shall  be  free  to  me,  notwithstanding  my  present  complaisance, 
to  take  service  with  the  Covenanters  to-morrow,  providing 
I  shall  be  so  minded." 

M'Aulay  and  his  English  guests  stared  at  this  declara- 
tion, which  would  have  certainly  bred  new  disturbance  if 
Lord  Menteith  had  not  taken  up  the  affair  and  explained  the 
circumstances  and  conditions.  " I  trust,"  he  concluded,  "  we 
shall  be  able  to  secure  Captain  Dalgetty's  assistance  to  our 
own  party." 

"And  if  not,"  said  the  Laird,  "I  protest,  as  the  Captain 
says,  that  nothing  that  has  passed  this  evening,  not  even  his 
having  eaten  my  bread  and  salt,  and  pledged  me  in  brandy, 
Bordeaux,  or  usquebaugh,  shall  prejudice  my  cleaving  him 
to  the  neck-bone." 

"  You  shall  be  heartily  welcome,"  said  the  Captain,  "pro- 
viding my  sword  cannot  keep  my  head,  which  it  has  done  in 
worse  dangers  than  your  feud  is  likely  to  make  for  me." 

Here  Lord  Menteith  again  interposed,  and  the  concord  of 
the  company  being  with  no  small  difficulty  restored,  was 
cemented  by  some  deep  carouses.  Lord  Menteith,  how- 
ever, contrived  to  brealc  up  the  party  earlier  than  was  the 
usage  of  the  castle,  under  pretence  of  fatigue  and  indis- 
position. This  was  somewhat  to  the  disappointment  of  the 
valiant  Captain,  who,  among  other  habits  acquired  in  the 
Low  Countries,  had  acquired  both  a  disposition  to  drink  and 
a  capacity  to  bear  an  exorbitant  quantity  of  strong  liquors. 


i' 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  183 

Their  landlord  ushered  them  in  person  to  a  sort  of  sleep- 
ing gallery,  in  which  there  was  a  four-post  bed,  with  tartan 
curtains,  and  a  number  of  cribs,  or  long  hampers,  placed 
along  the  wall,  three  of  which,  well  stuffed  with  blooming 
heather,  were  prepared  for  the  reception  of  guests. 

'^  I  need  not  tell  your  lordship,"  said  M^Aulay  to  Lord 
Menteith,  a  little  apart,  "  our  Highland  mode  of  quartering  ; 
only  that,  not  liking  you  should  sleep  in  the  room  alone  with 
this  German  landlouper,  I  have  caused  your  servants'  beds 
to  be  made  here  in  the  gallery.  By  G — d,  my  lord,  these  are 
times  when  men  go  to  bed  with  a  throat  hale  and  sound  as 
ever  swallowed  brandy,  and  before  next  morning  it  may  be 
gaping  like  an  oyster-shell. '^ 

Lord  Menteith  thanked  him  sincerely,  saying,  "It  was 
list  the  arrangement  he  would  have  requested  ;  for,  although 
e  had  not  the  least  apprehension  of  violence  from  Captain 
Dalgetty,  yet  Anderson  was  a  better  kind  of  person,  a  sort  of 
gentleman,  whom  he  always  liked  to  have  near  his  person. '^ 

"I  have  not  seen  this  Anderson,"  said  M'Aulay ;  "did 
you  hire  him  in  England  ?  " 

"I  did  so,"  said  Lord  Menteith  ;  "you  will  see  the  man 
to-morrow ;  in  the  mean  time  I  wish  you  good-night." 

His  host  left  the  apartment  after  the  evening  salutation, 
and  was  about  to  pay  the  same  compliment  to  Captain  Dal- 
getty, but,  observing  him  deeply  engaged  in  the  discussion  of 
a  huge  pitcher  filled  with  brandy  posset,  he  thought  it  a  pity 
to  disturb  him  in  so  laudable  an  employment,  and  took  his 
leave  without  farther  ceremony. 

Lord  Menteith's  two  attendants  entered  the  apartment  al- 
most immediately  after  his  departure.  The  good  Captain, 
who  was  now  somewhat  encumbered  with  his  good  cheer, 
began  to  find  the  undoing  of  the  clasps  of  his  armor  a  task 
somewhat  difficult,  and  addressed  Anderson  in  these  words, 
interrupted  by  a  slight  hiccough — "Anderson,  my  good 
friend,  you  may  read  in  Scripture  that  he  that  putteth  off  his 
armor  should  not  boast  himself  like  he  that  putteth  it  on.  I 
believe  that  is  not  the  right  word  of  command  ;  but  the  plain 
truth  of  it  is,  I  am  like  to  sleep  in  my  corselet,  like  many  an 
honest  fellow  that  never  waked  again,  unless  you  unloose  this 
buckle." 

"  Undo  his  armor,  Sibbald,"  said  Anderson  to  the  other 
servant. 

"  By  St.  Andrew  !  "  exclaimed  the  Captain,  turning  round 
in  great  astonishment,  "  here's  a  common  fellow,  a  stipendi- 
ary with  four  pounds  a  year  and  a  livery  cloak,  thinks  him- 


184  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

self  too  good  to  serve  Kittmaster  Dugald  Dalgetty  of  Drum- 
thwacket,  who  has  studied  humanity  at  the  Marischal  College 
of  Aberdeen,  and  served  half  the  princes  of  Europe  ! " 

^'  Captain  Dalgetty/*  said  Lord  Menteith,  whose  lot  it 
was  to  stand  peacemaker  throughout  the  evening,  ^^  please  to 
understand  that  Anderson  waits  upon  no  one  but  myself ; 
but  I  will  help  Sibbald  to  undo  your  corselet  with  much 
pleasure." 

^^Too  much  trouble  for  you,  my  lord,"  said  Dalgetty; 
"and  yet  it  would  do  you  no  harm  to  practise  how  a  hand- 
some harness  is  put  on  and  put  off.  I  can  step  in  and  out  of 
mine  like  a  glove  ;  only  to-night,  although  not  ehrius,  I  am, 
in  the  classic  phrase,  vino  cihoque  gravatus." 

By  this  time  he  was  unshelled,  and  stood  before  the  fire 
musing  with  a  face  of  drunken  wisdom  on  the  events  of  the 
evening.  What  seemed  chiefly  to  interest  him  was  the  char- 
acter of  Allan  M^Aulay.  "  To  come  over  the  Englishmen  so 
cleverly  with  his  Highland  torch- bearers — eight  bare-breeched 
Rories  for  six  silver  candlesticks  !  it  was  a  masterpiece — a  tour 
de  passe — it  was  perfect  legerdemain  ;  and  to  be  a  madman 
after  all !  I  doubt  greatly,  my  lord  [shaking  his  head],  that  I 
must  allow  him,  notwithstanding  his  relationship  to  your 
lordship,  the  privileges  of  a  rational  person,  and  either  baton 
him  sufficiently  to  expiate  the  violence  offered  to  my  person, 
or  else  bring  it  to  a  matter  of  mortal  arbitrament,  as  becometh 
an  insulted  cavalier." 

"If  you  care  to  hear  a  long  story,"  said  Lord  Menteith, 
"  at  this  time  of  night,  I  can  tell  you  how  the  circumstances 
of  Allan's  birth  account  so  well  for  his  singular  character  as 
to  put  such  satisfaction  entirely  out  of  the  question." 

"A  long  story,  my  lord,  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  "is, 
next  to  a  good  evening  draught  and  a  warm  nightcap,  the 
best  shoeing-horn  for  drawing  on  a  sound  sleep.  And,  since 
your  lordship  is  pleased  to  take  the  trouble  to  tell  it,  I  shall 
rest  your  patient  and  obliged  auditor." 

"Anderson,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  ^'and  you,  Sibbald, 
are  dying  to  hear,  I  suppose,  of  this  strange  man  too  ;  and  I 
believe  I  must  indulge  your  curiosity,  that  you  may  know 
how  to  behave  to  him  in  time  of  need.  You  had  better  step 
to  the  fire  then." 

Having  thus  assembled  an  audience  about  him.  Lord  Men- 
teith sat  down  upon  the  edge  of  the  four-post  bed,  while  Cap- 
tain Dalgetty,  wiping  the  relics  of  the  posset  from  his  beard 
and  mustachios,  and  repeating  the  first  verse  of  the  Lu- 
theran psalm,  Alle  guter  Geister  loben  de7i  Herrn,  etc.,  rolled 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  185 

himself  into  one  of  the  places  of  repose,  and,  thrusting  his 
shock  pate  from  between  the  blankets,  listened  to  Lord  Men- 
teith's  relation  in  a  most  luxurious  state,  between  sleeping 
and  waking. 

"  The  father, '^  said  Lord  Menteith,  '^  of  the  two  brothers, 
Angus  and  Allan  M'Aulay,  was  a  gentleman  of  consideration 
and  family,  being  the  chief  of  a  Highland  clan,  of  good  at- 
count,  though  not  numerous  ;  his  lady,  the  mother  of  these 
young  men,  was  a  gentlewoman  of  good  family,  if  I  may  be 
permitted  to  say  so  of  one  nearly  connected  with  my  own. 
Her  brother,  an  honorable  and  spirited  young  man,  obtained 
from  James  VI.  a  grant  of  forestry  and  other  privileges  over 
a  royal  chase  adjacent  to  this  castle  ;  and,  in  exercising  and 
defending  these  rights,  he  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  involve 
himself  in  a  quarrel  with  some  of  our  Highland  freebooters 
or  caterans,  of  whom  I  think.  Captain  Dalgetty,  you  must 
have  heard.'' 

'^  And  that  I  have,"  said  the  Captain,  exerting  himself  to 
answer  the  appeal.  "  Before  I  left  the  Marischal  College  of 
Aberdeen,  Dugald  Garr  was  playing  the  devil  in  the  Garioch, 
and  the  Farquharsons  on  Dee-side,  and  the  Clan  Chattan  on 
the  Gordons'  lands,  and  the  Grants  and  Camerons  in  Moray- 
land.  And  since  that  I  have  seen  the  Cravats  and  Pandours 
in  Pannonia  and  Transylvania,  and  the  Cossacks  from  the 
Polish  frontier,  and  robbers,  banditti,  and  barbarians  of  all 
countries  besides,  so  that  I  have  a  distinct  idea  of  your  broken 
Highlandmen." 

"  The  clan,''  said  Lord  Menteith,  "  with  whom  the  mater- 
nal uncle  of  the  M'Aulays  had  been  placed  in  feud  was  a  small 
sept  of  banditti,  called,  from  their  houseless  state  and  their 
incessantly  wandering  among  the  mountains  and  glens,  the 
Children  of  the  Mist.  They  are  a  fierce  and  hardy  people,  with 
all  the  irritability  and  wild  and  vengeful  passions  proper  to 
men  who  have  never  known  the  restraint  of  civilized  society. 
A  party  of  them  lay  in  wait  for  the  unfortunate  warden  of  the 
forest,  surprised  him  while  hunting  alone  and  unattended,  and 
slew  him  with  every  circumstance  of  inventive  cruelty.  They 
cut  off  his  head,  and  resolved,  m  a  bravado,  to  exhibit  it  at  the 
castle  of  his  brother-in-law.  The  Laird  was  absent,  and  the 
lady  reluctantly  received  as  guests  men  against  whom,  per- 
haps, she  was  afraid  to  shut  her  gates.  Refreshments  were 
placed  before  the  Children  of  the  Mist,  who  took  an  opportunity 
to  take  the  head  of  their  victim  from  the  plaid  in  which  it  was 
wrapped,  placed  it  on  the  table,  put  a  piece  of  bread  between 
the  lifeless  jaws,  bidding  them  do  their  office  now,  since  many 


186  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

a  good  meal  tliey  had  eaten  at  that  table.  The  lady,  who  had 
been  absent  for  some  household  purpose,  entered  at  this 
moment,  and,  upon  beholding  her  brother's  head,  fled  like  an 
arrow  out  of  the  house  into  the  woods,  uttering  shriek  upon 
shriek.  The  ruffians,  satisfied  with  this  savage  triumph,  with- 
drew. The  terrified  menials,  after  overcoming  the  alarm  to 
which  they  had  been  subjected,  sought  their  unfortunate 
mistress  in  every  direction,  but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 
The  miserable  husband  returned  next  day,  and,  with  the  as- 
sistance of  his  people,  undertook  a  more  anxious  and  distant 
search,  but  to  equally  little  purpose.  It  was  believed  univer- 
sally that,  in  the  ecstasy  of  her  terror,  she  must  either  have 
thrown  herself  over  one  of  the  numerous  precipices  which  over- 
hang the  river  or  into  a  deep  lake  about  a  mile  from  the  castle. 
Her  loss  was  the  more  lamented  as  she  was  six  months  ad- 
vanced in  her  pregnancy  ;  Angus  M'Aulay,  her  eldest  son, 
having  been  born  about  eighteen  months  before.  But  I  tire 
you.  Captain  Dalgetty,  and  you  seem  inclined  to  sleep." 

"By  no  means,"  answered  the  soldier  ;  " I  am  no  whit 
somnolent.  I  always  hear  best  with  my  eyes  shut ;  it  is  a 
fashion  I  learned  when  I  stood  sentinel." 

"  And  I  dare  say,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  aside  to  Anderson, 
"  the  weight  of  the  halberd  of  the  sergeant  of  the  rounds 
often  made  him  open  them." 

Being  apparently,  however,  in  the  humor  of  story- telling, 
the  young  nobleman  went  on,  addressing  himself  chiefly  to 
his  servants,  without  minding  the  slumbering  veteran. 

"Every  baron  in  the  country,"  said  he,  "now  swore  re- 
venge for  this  dreadful  crime.  They  took  arms  with  the  re- 
lations and  brother-in-law  of  the  murdered  person,  and  the 
Children  of  the  Mist  were  hunted  down,  I  believe,  with  as 
little  mercy  as  they  had  themselves  manifested.  Seventeen 
heads,  the  bloody  trophies  of  their  vengeance,  were  distributed 
among  the  allies,  and  fed  the  crows  upon  the  gates  of  their 
castles.  The  survivors  sought  out  more  distant  wildernesses, 
to  which  they  retreated." 

"  To  your  right  hand,  counter-march  and  retreat  to  your 
former  ground,  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  the  military  phrase 
having  produced  the  correspondent  word  of  command  ;  and 
then,  starting  up,  professed  he  had  been  profoundly  attentive 
to  every  word  that  had  been  spoken. 

"  It  is  the  custom  in  summer,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  with- 
out attending  to  his  apology,  "  to  send  the  cows  to  the  upland 
pastures  to  have  the  benefit  of  the  grass  ;  and  the  maids  of 
the  village  and  of  the  family  go  there  to  milk  them  in  the 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  187 

morning  and  evening.  While  thus  employed,  the  females  of 
this  family,  to  their  great  terror,  perceived  that  their  motions 
were  watched  at  a  distance  by  a  pale,  thin,  meagre  figure, 
bearing  a  strong  resemblance  to  their  deceased  mistress,  and 
passing,  of  course,  for  her  apparition.  When  some  of  the 
boldest  resolved  to  approach  this  faded  form,  it  fled  from 
them  into  the  woods  with  a  wild  shriek.  The  husband,  in- 
formed of  this  circumstance,  came  up  to  the  glen  with  some 
attendants,  and  took  his  measures  so  Avell  as  to  intercept  the 
retreat  of  the  unhappy  fugitive,  and  to  secure  the  person  of 
his  unfortunate  lady,  though  her  intellect  proved  to  be  totally 
deranged.  How  she  supported  herself  during  her  wandering 
in  the  woods  could  not  be  known  ;  some  supposed  she  lived 
upon  roots  and  wild  berries,  with  which  the  woods  at  that 
season  abounded,  but  the  greater  part  of  the  vulgar  were  sat- 
isfied that  she  must  have  subsisted  upon  the  milk  of  the  wild 
does,  or  been  nourished  by  the  fairies,  or  supported  in  some 
manner  equally  marvellous.  Her  reappearance  was  more 
easily  accounted  for.  She  had  seen  from  the  thicket  the 
milking  of  the  cows,  to  superintend  which  had  been  her  fa- 
vorite domestic  employment,  and  the  habit  had  prevailed 
even  in  her  deranged  state  of  mind. 

*^  In  due  season  the  unfortunate  lady  was  delivered  of  a 
boy,  who  not  only  showed  no  appearance  of  having  suffered 
from  his  mother^s  calamities,  but  appeared  to  be  an  infant  of 
uncommon  health  and  strength.  The  unhappy  mother  after 
her  confinement  recovered  her  reason — at  least  in  a  great 
measure — but  never  her  health  and  spirits.  Allan  was  her 
only  joy.  Her  attention  to  him  was  unremitting  ;  and  un- 
questionably she  must  have  impressed  upon  his  early  mind 
many  of  those  superstitious  ideas  to  which  his  moody  and 
enthusiastic  temper  gave  so  ready  a  reception.  She  died 
when  he  was  about  ten  years  old.  Her  last  words  were  spoken 
to  him  in  private ;  but  there  is  little  doubt  that  they  conveyed 
an  injunction  of  vengeance  upon  the  Children  of  the  Mist, 
with  which  he  has  since  amply  complied. 

'^  From  this  moment  the  habits  of  Allan  M^Aulay  were 
totally  changed.  He  had  hitherto  been  his  mother^s  con- 
stant companion,  listening  to  her  dreams  and  repeating  his 
own,  and  feeding  his  imagination,  which,  probably  from  the 
circumstances  preceding  his  birth,  was  constitutionally  de- 
ranged, with  all  the  wild  and  terrible  superstitions  so  com- 
mon to  the  mountaineers,  to  which  his  unfortunate  mother 
had  become  much  addicted  since  her  brother's  death.  By 
living  in  this  manner,  the  boy  had  gotten  a  timid,  wild. 


188  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

startled  look,  loved  to  seek  out  solitary  places  in  the  woods, 
and  was  never  so  much  terrified  as  by  the  approach  of  chil- 
dren of  the  same  age.  I  remember,  although  some  years 
younger,  being  brought  up  here  by  my  father  upon  a  visit, 
nor  can  I  forget  the  astonishment  with  which  I  saw  this  in- 
fant hermit  shun  every  attempt  I  made  to  engage  him  in  the 
sports  natural  to  our  age.  I  can  remember  his  father  bewail- 
ing his  disposition  to  mine,  and  alleging,  at  the  same  time, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  take  from  his  wife  the  com- 
pany of  the  boy,  as  he  seemed  to  be  the  only  consolation  that 
remained  to  her  in  this  world,  and  as  the  amusement  which 
Allan^s  society  afforded  her  seemed  to  prevent  the  recurrence, 
at  least  in  its  full  force,  of  that  fearful  malady  by  which  she 
had  been  visited.  But,  after  the  death  of  his  mother,  the 
habits  and  manners  of  the  boy  seemed  at  once  to  change.  It 
is  true  he  remained  as  thoughtful  and  serious  as  before  ;  and 
long  fits  of  silence  and  abstraction  showed  plainly  that  his 
disposition  in  this  respect  was  in  no  degree  altered.  But  at 
other  times  he  sought  out  the  rendezvous  of  the  youth  of  the 
clan,  which  he  had  hitherto  seemed  anxious  to  avoid.  He 
took  share  in  all  their  exercises  ;  and,  from  his  very  extraor- 
dinary personal  strength,  soon  excelled  his  brother  and  other 
youths  whose  age  considerably  exceeded  his  own.  They,  who 
had  hitherto  held  him  in  contempt,  now  feared  if  they  did 
not  love  him;  and,  instead  of  Allan^s  being  esteemed  a 
dreaming,  womanish,  and  feeble-minded  boy,  those  who  en- 
countered him  in  sports  or  military  exercise  now  complained 
that,  when  heated  by  the  strife,  he  was  too  apt  to  turn  game 
into  earnest,  and  to  forget  that  he  was  only  engaged  in  a 
friendly  trial  of  strength.  But  I  speak  to  regardless  ears," 
said  Lord  Menteith,  interrupting  himself,  for  the  Captain's 
nose  now  gave  the  most  indisputable  signs  that  he  was  fast 
locked  in  the  arms  of  oblivion. 

'^  If  you  mean  the  ears  of  that  snorting  swine,  my  lord,'' 
said  Anderson,  **they  are,  indeed,  shut  to  anything  that  you 
can  say  ;  nevertheless,  this  place  being  unfit  for  more  private 
conference,  I  hope  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  proceed,  for 
Sibbald's  benefit  and  for  mine.  The  history  of  this  poor 
young  fellow  has  a  deep  and  wild  interest  in  it." 

'*  Yon  must  know,  then,"  proceeded  Lord  Menteith, 
*^that  Allan  continued  to  increase  in  strength  and  activity  till 
his  fifteenth  year,  about  which  time  he  assumed  a  total  inde- 
pendence of  character  and  impatience  of  control  which  much 
alarmed  his  surviving  parent.  He  was  absent  in  the  woods 
for  whole  days  and  nights,  under  pretence  of  hunting,  though 


A   LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  189 

he  did  not  always  bring  home  game.  His  father  was  the  more 
alarmed  because  several  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist,  encour- 
aged by  the  increasing  troubles  of  the  state,  had  ventured  back 
to  their  old  haunts,  nor  did  he  think  it  altogether  safe  to  re- 
new any  attack  upon  them.  The  risk  of  Allan,  in  his  wan- 
derings, sustaining  injury  from  these  vindictive  freebooters 
was  a  perpetual  source  of  apprehension. 

''  I  was  myself  upon  a  visit  to  the  castle  when  this  matter 
was  brought  to  a  crisis.  Allan  had  been  absent  since  day- 
break in  the  woods,  where  I  had  sought  for  him  in  vain ;  it 
was  a  dark  stormy  night,  and  he  did  not  return.  His  father 
expressed  the  utmost  anxiety,  and  spoke  of  detaching  a  party 
at  the  dawn  of  morning  in  quest  of  him  ;  when,  as  we  were 
sitting  at  the  supper- table,  the  door  suddenly  opened  and 
Allan  entered  the  room  with  a  proud,  firm,  and  confident  air. 
His  intractability  of  temper,  as  well  as  the  unsettled  state  of 
his  mind,  had  such  an  influence  over  his  father  that  he  sup- 
pressed all  other  tokens  of  displeasure  excepting  the  observa- 
tion that  I  had  killed  a  fat  buck,  and  had  returned  before 
sunset,  while  he  supposed  Allan,  who  had  been  on  the  hill 
till  midnight,  had  returned  with  empty  hands.  'Are  you 
sure  of  that  ? '  said  Allan,  fiercely ;  '  here  is  something  will 
tell  you  another  tale.' 

"  We  now  observed  his  hands  were  bloody,  and  that  there 
were  spots  of  blood  on  his  face,  and  waited  the  issue  with  im- 
patience ;  when  suddenly,  undoing  the  corner  of  his  plaid, 
he  rolled  down  on  the  table  a  human  head,  bloody  and  new 
severed,  saying  at  the  same  time,  '  Lie  thou  where  the  head 
of  a  better  man  lay  before  ye.'  From  the  haggard  features, 
and  matted  red  hair  and  beard,  partly  grizzled  with  age, 
his  father  and  others  present  recognized  the  head  of  Hector 
of  the  Mist,  a  well-known  leader  among  the  outlaws,  re- 
doubted for  strength  and  ferocity,  who  had  been  active  in  the 
murder  of  the  unfortunate  forester,  uncle  to  Allan,  and  had 
escaped  by  a  desperate  defence  and  extraordinary  agility  when 
so  many  of  his  companions  were  destroyed.  We  were  all,  it 
may  be  believed,  struck  with  surprise,  but  Allan  refused  to 
gratify  our  curiosity  ;  and  we  only  conjectured  that  he  must 
have  overcome  the  outlaw  after  a  desperate  struggle,  because 
we  discovered  that  he  had  sustained  several  wounds  from  the 
contest.  All  measures  were  now  taken  to  insure  him  against 
the  vengeance  of  the  freebooters  ;  but  neither  his  wounds 
nor  the  positive  command  of  his  father,  nor  even  the  locking 
of  the  gates  of  the  castle  and  the  doors  of  his  apartment,  were 
precautions  adequate  to  prevent  Allan  from  seeking  out  the 


190  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

very  persons  to  whom  he  was  peculiarly  obnoxious.  He  made 
his  escape  by  night  from  the  window  of  the  apartment,  and, 
laughing  at  his  father's  vain  care,  produced  on  one  occasion 
the  head  of  one,  and  upon  another  those  of  two,  of  the  Chil- 
dren of  the  Mist.  At  length  these  men,  fierce  as  they  were, 
became  appalled  by  the  inveterate  animosity  and  audacity 
with  which  Allan  sought  out  their  recesses.  As  he  never 
hesitated  to  encounter  any  odds,  they  concluded  that  he  must 
bear  a  charmed  life,  or  fight  under  the  guardianship  of  some 
supernatural  influence.  Neither  gun,  dirk,  nor  dourlach, 
they  said,  availed  aught  against  him.  They  imputed  this  to 
the  remarkable  circumstances  under  which  he  was  born  ;  and 
at  length  five  or  six  of  the  stoutest  caterans  of  the  Highlands 
would  have  fled  at  Allan^'s  halloo  or  the  blast  of  his  horn. 

*'  In  the  mean  while,  however,  the  Children  of  the  Mist 
carried  on  their  old  trade,  and  did  the  M'Aulays,  as  well  as 
their  kinsmen  and  allies,  as  much  mischief  as  they  could. 
This  provoked  another  expedition  against  the  tribe,  in  w^hich 
I  had  my  share  ;  we  surprised  them  effectually  by  besetting 
at  once  the  upper  and  under  passes  of  the  country,  and  made 
such  clean  work  as  is  usual  on  these  occasions,  burning  and 
slaying  right  before  us.  In  this  terrible  species  of  war  even 
the  females  and  the  helpless  do  not  always  escape.  One 
little  maiden  alone,  who  smiled  upon  Allan's  drawn  dirk, 
escaped  his  vengeance  upon  my  earnest  entreaty.  She  was 
brought  to  the  castle  and  here  bred  up  under  the  name  of 
Annot  Lyle,  the  most  beautiful  little  fairy  certainly  that  ever 
'danced  upon  a  heath  by  moonlight.  It  was  long  ere  Allan 
could  endure  the  presence  of  the  child,  until  it  occurred  to 
his  imagination,  from  her  features  perhaps,  that  she  did  not 
belong  to  the  hated  blood  of  his  enemies,  but  had  become 
their  captive  in  some  of  their  incursions  ;  a  circumstance  not 
in  itself  impossible,  but  in  which  he  believes  as  firmly  as  in 
Holy  Writ.  He  is  particularly  delighted  by  her  skill  in 
music,  which  is  so  exquisite  that  she  far  exceeds  the  best 
performers  in  this  country  in  playing  on  the  clairshach  or 
harp.  It  was  discovered  that  this  produced  upon  the  dis- 
turbed spirits  of  Allan  in  his  gloomiest  moods  beneficial 
effects  similar  to  those  experienced  by  the  Jewish  monarch 
of  old  ;  and  so  engaging  is  the  temper  of  Annot  Lyle,  so 
fascinating  the  innocence  and  gayety  of  her  disposition,  that 
she  is  considered  and  treated  in  the  castle  rather  as  the  sister 
of  the  proprietor  than  as  a  dependant  upon  his  charity.  In- 
deed, it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  see  her  without  being 
deeply  interested  by  the  ingenuity,  liveliness,  and  sweetness  of 
her  disposition.".-      : 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  IW 

''  Take  care,  my  lord,"  said  Anderson,  sntiling  ;  ''  there 
is  danger  in  such  violent  commendations.  Allan  M'Aulay, 
as  your  lordship  describes  him,  would  prove  no  very  safe 
rival." 

"Pooh!  pooh!'"'  said  Lord  Menteith,  laughing,  yet 
blushing  at  the  same  time.  **  Allan  is  not  accessible  to  the 
passion  of  love ;  and  for  myself, '^  said  he,  more  gravely, 
**^  Annot's  unknown  birth  is  a  sufficient  reason  against  serious 
designs,  and  her  unprotected  state  precludes  every  other.'' 

*^It  is  spoken  like  yourself,  my  lord,"  said  Anderson. 
"But  I  trust  you  will  proceed  with  your  interesting  story." 

'^It  is  well-nigh  finished,"  said  Lord  Menteith  ;  "1  have 
only  to  add  that  from  the  great  strength  and  courage  of  Allan 
M'Aulay,  from  his  energetic  and  uncontrollable  disposition, 
and  from  an  opinion  generally  entertained  and  encouraged 
by  himself,  that  he  holds  communion  with  suj)ernatural 
beings,  and  can  predict  future  events,  the  clan  pay  a  much 
greater  degree  of  deference  to  him  than  even  to  his  brother, 
who  is  a  bold-hearted  rattling  Highlander,  but  with  nothing 
which  can  possibly  rival  the  extraordinary  character  of  his 
younger  brother," 

"  Such  a  character,"  said  Anderson,  "  cannot  but  have 
the  deepest  effect  on  the  minds  of  a  Highland  host.  We 
must  secure  Allan,  my  lord,  at  all  events.  What  between 
his  bravery  and  his  second-sight " 

"Hush  !"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "  that  owl  is  awaking." 

"  Do  you  talk  of  the  second-sight  or  deuteroscopia  f '^  said 
the  soldier.  "  I  remember  memorable  Major  Monro  telling 
me  how  Murdoch  Mackenzie,  born  in  Assint,  a  private  gen- 
tleman in  a  company  and  a  pretty  soldier,  foretold  the  death 
of  Donald  Tough,  a  Lochaber  man,  and  certain  other  persons, 
as  well  as  the  hurt  of  the  major  himself  at  a  sudden  onfall  at 
the  siege  of  Trailsund." 

"  I  have  often  heard  of  this  faculty,"  observed  Anderson, 
"but  I  have  always  thought  those  pretending  to  it  wero 
either  enthusiasts  or  impostors." 

"  I  should  be  loth,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "  to  apply  either 
character  to  my  kinsman,  Allan  M^Aulay.  He  has  shown  on 
many  occasions  too  much  acuteness  and  sense,  of  which  you 
this  night  had  an  instance,  for  the  character  of  an  enthusiast ; 
and  his  high  sense  of  honor  and  manliness  of  disposition  free 
him  from  the  charge  of  imposture." 

"Your  lordship,  then,"  said  Anderson,  "is  a  believer  in 
his  supernatural  attributes  ?  " 

"By  no  means^"  jsaid  the  young  nobleman;    "I  think 


192  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

that  he  persuades  himself  that  the  predictions  which  are  in 
reality  the  result  of  judgment  and  reflection  are  supernatural 
impressions  on  his  mind,  just  as  fanatics  conceive  the  work- 
ings of  their  own  imagination  to  be  divine  inspiration ;  at 
least,  if  this  will  not  serve  you,  Anderson,  I  have  no  better 
explanation  to  give  ;  and  it  is  time  we  were  all  asleep  after 
che  toilsome  journey  of  the  day/' 


CHAPTER  YI 

CJoming  events  cast  their  shadows  before. 

Campbell. 

At  an  early  hour  in  the  morning  the  guests  of  the  castle 
sprang  from  their  repose ;  and,  after  a  moment's  private 
conversation  with  his  attendants.  Lord  Menteith  addressed 
the  soldier,  who  was  seated  in  a  comer  burnishing  his 
corselet  with  rot-stone  and  chamois-leather,  while  he  hummed 
the  old  song  in  honor  of  the  victorious  Gustavus  Adolphus  : 

When  cannons  are  roaring,  and  bullets  are  flying, 

The  lad  that  would  have  honor,  boys,  must  never  fear  dying. 

"Captain  Dalgetty,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "the  time  is 
come  that  we  must  part  or  become  comrades  in  service." 

"Not  before  breakfast,  I  hope  V  said  Captain  Dalgetty. 

" I  should  have  thought,"  replied  his  lordship,  "that  your 
garrison  was  victualled  for  three  days  at  least." 

"  I  have  still  some  stowage  left  for  beef  and  bannocks," 
said  the  Captain  ;  "  and  I  never  miss  a  favorable  opportunity 
of  renewing  my  supplies." 

"But,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "no  judicious  commander 
allows  either  flags  of  truce  or  neutrals  to  remain  in  his  camp 
longer  than  is  prudent ;  and  therefore  we  must  know  your 
mind  exactly,  according  to  which  you  shall  either  have  a 
safe-conduct  to  depart  in  peace  or  be  welcome  to  remain 
with  us." 

"  Truly,"  said  the  Captain,  "that  being  the  case,  I  will 
not  attempt  to  protract  the  capitulation  by  a  counterfeited 
parley — a  thing  excellently  practised  by  Sir  James  Ramsay  at 
the  siege  of  Hanau,  in  the  year  of  God  1636 — but  I  will 
frankly  own  that,  if  I  like  your  pay  as  well  as  your  provant 
and  your  company,  I  care  not  how  soon  I  take  the  oath  to 
your  colors." 

"Our  pay,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "must  at  present  be 
small,  since  it  is  paid  out  of  the  common  stock  raised  by  the 
few  among  us  who  can  command  some  funds.     As  major  and 


194  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

adjutant,  I  dare  not  promise  Captain  Dalgetty  more  than  half 
a  dollar  a  day." 

"The  devil  take  all  halves  and  quarters!"  said  the 
Captain;  "were  it  in  my  option,  I  could  no  more  consent 
to  the  halving  of  that  dollar  than  the  woman  in  the  Judg- 
ment of  Solomon  to  the  disseverment  of  the  child  of  her 
bowels." 

"  The  parallel  will  scarce  hold.  Captain  Dalgetty,  for  I 
think  you  would  rather  consent  to  the  dividing  of  the  dollar 
than  give  it  up  entire  to  your  competitor.  However,  in  the 
way  of  arrears,  I  may  promise  you  the  other  half-dollar  at  the 
end  of  the  campaign." 

"Ah  !  these  arrearages!"  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  "that 
are  always  promised  and  always  go  for  nothing  !  Spain,  Aus- 
tria, and  Sweden  all  sing  one  song.  Oh  !  long  life  to  the 
Hoganmogans  !  if  they  were  no  officers  or  soldiers,  they  were 
good  paymasters.  And  yet,  my  lord,  if  I  could  but  be  made 
certiorate  that  my  natural  hereditament  of  Drumthwacket 
had  fallen  into  possession  of  any  of  these  loons  of  Covenant- 
ers, who  could  be,  in  the  event  of  our  success,  conveniently 
made  a  traitor  of,  I  have  so  much  value  for  that  fertile  and 
pleasant  spot  that  I  would  e'en  take  on  with  you  for  the  cam- 
paign." 

"  I  can  resolve  Captain  Dalgetty's  question,"  saidSibbald, 
Lord  Menteith's  second  attendant;  "for,  if  his  estate  of 
Drumtliwacket  be,  as  I  conceive,  the  long  waste  moor  so  called 
that  lies  five  miles  south  of  Aberdeen,  I  can  tell  him  it  was 
lately  purchased  by  Elias  Strachan,  as  rank  a  rebel  as  ever 
swore  the  Covenant." 

"  The  crop-eared  hound  ! "  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  in  a  rage ; 
"  what  the  devil  gave  him  the  assurance  to  purchase  the  in- 
heritance of  a  family  of  four  hundred  years'  standing  ? 
Cynthius  aurem  vellit,  as  we  used  to  say  at  Marischal  College  ; 
that  is  to  say,  I  will  pull  him  out  of  my  father's  house  by  the 
ears.  And  so,  my  Lord  Menteith,  I  am  yours,  hand  and 
sword,  body  and  soul,  till  death  do  us  part,  or  to  the  end  of 
the  next  campaign,  whichever  event  shall  first  come  to  pass." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  young  nobleman,  "  rivet  the  bargain  by 
a  month's  pay  in  advance." 

"  That  is  more  than  necessary,"  said  Dalgetty,  pocketing 
the  money  however.  "  But  now  I  must  go  down,  look  after 
my  war-saddle  and  abuilyiements,  and  see  that  Gustavus  has 
his  morning,  and  tell  him  we  have  taken  new  service." 

"  There  goes  your  precious  i-ecruit,"  said  Lord  Menteith 
to  Anderson,  as  the  Captain  left  the  room ;  "  I  fear  we  shall 
have  little  credit  of  him." 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  195 

''He  is  a  man  of  the  times,  however/'  said  Andereon  ; 
''  and  without  such  we  should  hardly  be  able  to  carry  on  our 
enterprise." 

"  Let  us  go  down/'  answered  Lord  Menteith,  ''  and  see 
how  our  muster  is  likely  to  thrive,  for  I  hear  a  good  deal  of 
bustle  in  the  castle/' 

When  they  entered  the  hall,  the  domestics  keeping 
modestly  in  the  background,  morning  greetings  passed  be- 
tween Lord  Menteith,  Angus  M'Aulay,  and  his  English 
guests,  while  Allan,  occupying  the  same  settle  which  he  had 
filled  the  preceding  evening,  paid  no  attention  whatever  to 
any  one. 

Old  Donald  hastily  rushed  into  the  apartment.  *'  A 
message  from  Vich  Alister  More  ;  *  he  is  coming  up  in  the 
evening." 

"  With  how  many  attendants  ?  "  said  M'Aulay. 

''  Some  five-and-twenty  or  thirty,"  said  Donald,  "  his 
ordinary  retinue." 

*' Shake  down  plenty  of  straw  in  the  great  bam,"  said  the 
Laird. 

Another  servant  here  stumbled  hastily  in,  announcing  the 
expected  approach  of  Sir  Hector  M'Lean,  ''who  is  arriving 
with  a  large  following." 

"  Put  them  in  the  malt-kiln,"  said  MlAulay ;  "  and  keep 
the  breadth  of  the  middenstead  between  them  and  the  M'Don- 
alds  ;  they  are  but  unfriends  to  each  other." 

Donald  now  re-entered,  his  visage  considerably  length- 
ened. "  The  teil's  i'  the  folk,"  he  said  ;  "  the  haill  Hielands 
are  asteer,  I  think.  Evan  Dhu  of  Lochiel  will  be  here  in  an 
hour,  with  Lord  kens  how  many  gillies." 

"  Into  the  great  barn  with  them  beside  the  M'Donalds," 
said  the  Laird. 

More  and  more  chiefs  were  announced,  the  least  of  whom 
would  have  accounted  it  derogatory  to  his  dignity  to  stir  with- 
out a  retinue  of  six  or  seven  persons.  To  every  new  annun- 
ciation Angus  M'Aulay  answered  by  naming  some  place  of 
accommodation — the  stables,  the  loft,  the  cow-house,  the 
sheds,  every  domestic  office,  were  destined  for  the  night  to 
some  hospitable  purpose  or  other.  At  length  the  arrival  of 
MT)ougal  of  Lorn,  after  all  his  means  of  accommodation 
w^e  exhausted,  reduced  him  to  some  perplexity.  "  What  the 
devil  is  to  be  done,  Donald?"  said  he.  "The  great  barn 
.  would  hold  fifty  more,  if  they  would  lie  heads  and  thraws  ; 
but  there  would  be  drawn  dirks  amang  them  which  should  lie 

*  The  patronymic  of  M'Dounell  or  M'Donald  of  Glengarry. 


196  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

uppermost,  and  so  wo  should  have  bloody  puddings  before 
morning ! " 

'^  What  needs  all  this  ?  "  said  Allan,  starting  up  and  com- 
ing forward  with  the  stern  abruptness  of  his  usual  manner ; 
"  are  the  G-ael  to-day  of  softer  flesh  or  whiter  blood  than  their 
fathers  were  ?  Knock  the  head  out  of  a  cask  of  usquebaugh  ; 
let  that  be  their  night-gear,  their  plaids  their  bed-clothes, 
the  blue  sky  their  canopy,  and  the  heather  their  couch. 
Come  a  thousand  more,  and  they  would  not  quarrel  on  the 
broad  heath  for  want  of  room  ! " 

"Allan  is  right,"  said  his  brother.  ^'It  is  very  odd  how 
Allan,  who,  between  ourselves,"  said  he  to  Musgrave,  *^'isa 
little  wowf,  seems  at  times  to  have  more  sense  than  us  all  put 
together.     Observe  him  now." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Allan,  fixing  his  eyes  with  a  ghastly 
stare  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall,  "they  may  well  begin 
as  they  are  to  end ;  many  a  man  will  sleep  this  night  upon 
the  heath,  that,  when  the  Martinmas  wind  shall  blow,  shall 
lie  there  stark  enough,  and  reck  little  of  cold  or  lack  of  cov- 
ering." 

"  Do  not  forespeakus,  brother,"  said  Angus  ;  "that  is  not 
lucky." 

"  And  what  luck  is  it  then  that  you  expect  ?  "  said  Allan  ; 
and,  straining  his.  eyes  until  they  almost  started  from  their 
sockets,  he  fell  with  a  convulsive  shudder  into  the  arms  of 
Donald  and  his  brother,  who,  knowing  the  nature  of  his  fits, 
had  come  near  to  prevent  his  fall.  They  seated  him  upon  a 
bench,  and  supported  him  until  he  came  to  himself  and  was 
about  to  speak. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Allan,"  said  his  brother,  who  knew 
the  impression  his  mystical  words  were  likely  to  make  on 
many  of  the  guests,  "say  nothing  to  discourage  us." 

'•'  Am  I  he  who  discourages  you  ?  "  said  Allan  ;  "  let  every 
man  face  his  weird  as  I  shall  face  mine.  That  which  must 
come,  will  come  ;  and  we  shall  stride  gallantly  over  many  a 
field  of  victory  ere  we  reach  yon  fatal  slaughter-place  or 
tread  yon  sable  scaffolds." 

"What  slaughter-place  ?  what  scaffolds  ?"  exclaimed  sev- 
eral voices  ;  for  Allan  s  renown  as  a  seer  was  generally  estab- 
lished in  the  Highlands. 

"You  will  know  that  but  too  soon,"  answered  Allan. 
"  Speak  to  me  no  more,  I  am  weary  of  your  questions."  He 
then  pressed  his  hand  against  his  brow,  rested  his  elbow  up- 
on his  knee,  and  sank  into  a  deep  reverie. 

"  Send  for  Annot  Lyle  and  the  harp,"  said  Angus,  in  a 


Annot  Lyle,  Lord  Monteith  and  Allan  McAulay. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  197 

whisper,  to  his  servants ;  ^^  and  let  those  gentlemen  follow 
me  who  do  not  fear  a  Highland  breakfast/^ 

All  accompanied  their  hospitable  landlord  excepting  only 
Lord  Menteith,  who  lingered  in  one  of  the  deep  embrasures 
formed  by  the  windows  of  the  hall.  Annot  Lyle  shortly  after 
glided  into  the  room,  not  ill-described  by  Lord  Menteith  as 
being  the  lightest  and  most  fairy  figure  that  ever  trod  the  turf  by 
moonlight.  Her  stature,  considerably  less  than  the  ordinary 
size  of  women,  gave  her  the  appearance  of  extreme  youth,  in 
somuch  that,  although  she  was  near  eighteen,  she  might  have 
passed  for  four  years  younger.  Her  figure,  hands,  and  feet, 
Avere  formed  upon  a  model  of  exquisite  symmetry  with  the 
size  and  lightness  of  her  person,  so  that  Titania  herself  could 
scarce  have  found  a  more  fitting  representative.  Her  hair 
was  a  dark  shade  of  the  color  usually  termed  flaxen,  whose 
clustering  ringlets  suited  admirably  with  her  fair  complexion, 
and  with  the  playful  yet  simple  expression  of  her  features. 
When  we  add  to  these  charms  that  Annot,  in  her  orphan  state, 
seemed  the  gayest  and  happiest  of  maidens,  the  reader  must 
allow  us  to  claim  for  her  the  interest  of  almost  all  who  looked 
on  her.  In  fact,  it  was  impossible  to  find  a  more  universal 
favorite,  and  she  often  came  among  the  rude  inhabitants  of 
the  castle,  as  Allan  himself,  in  a  poetical  mood,  expressed  it, 
"like  a  sunbeam  on  a  sullen  sea,  communicating  to  all  others 
the  cheerfulness  that  filled  her  own  mind. 

Annot,  such  as  we  have  described  her,  smiled  and  blushed 
when,  on  entering  the  apartment.  Lord  Menteith  came  from 
his  place  of  retirement  and  kindly  wished  her  good-morn- 
ing. 

"  And  good-morning  to  you,  my  lord,'^  returned  she,  ex- 
tending her  hand  to  her  friend  ;  "  we  have  seldom  seen  you  of 
late  at  the  castle,  and  now  I  fear  it  is  with  no  peaceful  pur- 
pose." 

"  At  least,  let  me  not  interrupt  your  harmony,  Annot," 
said  Lord  Menteith,  "though  my  arrival  may  breed  discord 
elsewhere.  My  cousin  Allan  needs  the  assistance  of  your  voice 
and  music." 

"  My  preserver,"  said  Annot  Lyle,  "  has  a  right  to  my 
poor  exertions  ;  and  you,  too,  my  lord — you,  too,  are  my  pre- 
server, and  were  the  most  active  to  save  a  life  that  is  worth- 
less enough  unless  it  can  benefit  my  protectors." 

So  saying,  she  sat  down  at  a  little  distance  upon  the  bench 
on  which  Allan  M'Aulay  was  placed,  and,  tuning  her  clair- 
ghach,  a  small  harp,  about  thirty  inches  in  height,  she  ac- 
companied it  with  her  voice.    The  air  was  an  ancient  Gaelic 


198  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

melody,  and  the  words,  which  were  supposed  to  be  very  old, 
were  in  the  same  language  ;  but  we  subjoin  a  translation  of 
them  by  Secundus  Macpherson,  Esq. ,  of  Glenf  orgen,  which, 
although  submitted  to  the  fetters  of  English  rhythm,  we 
trust  will  be  found  nearly  as  genuine  as  the  version  of  Ossian 
by  his  celebrated  namesake. 

Birds  of  omen  dark  and  foul, 
Night-crow,  raven,  bat,  and  owl. 
Leave  the  sick  man  to  his  dream — 
All  night  long  he  heard  your  scream- 
Haste  to  cave  and  ruin'd  tower, 
Ivy-tod,  or  dingled  bower. 
There  to  wink  and  mope,  for,  hark  I 
In  the  mid  air  sings  the  lark. 

Hie  to  moorish  gills  and  rocks, 
Prowling  wolf  and  wily  fox ; 
Hie  you  fast,  nor  turn  your  view, 
Though  the  lamb  bleats  to  the  ewe. 
Couch  your  trains,  and  speed  your  flight. 
Safety  parts  with  parting  night ; 
And  on  distant  echo  borne. 
Comes  the  hunter's  early  horn. 

The  moon's  wan  crescent  scarcely  gleamg, 
Ghost-like  she  fades  in  morning  beams  ; 
Hie  hence  each  peevish  imp  and  fay. 
That  scare  the  pilgrim  on  his  way. 
Quench,  kelpy  I  quench,  in  bog  and  fen. 
Thy  torch  that  cheats  benighted  men  ; 
Thy  dance  is  o'er,  thy  reign  is  done. 
For  Benyieglo  hath  seen  the  sun. 

Wild  thoughts,  that,  sinful,  dark,  and  deep, 
O'erpower  the  passive  mind  in  sleep, 
Pass  from  the  slumberer's  soul  away. 
Like  night-mists  from  the  brow  of  day : 
Foul  hag,  whose  blasted  visage  grim 
Smothers  the  pulse,  unnerves  the  limb, 
Spu   thy  dark  palfrey,  and  begone  1 
Thou  darest  not  face  the  godhke  sun. 

As  the  strain  pr  ceeded,  Allan  M^'Aulay  gradually  gave 
signs  of  recoverin  his  presence  of  mind  and  attention  to  the 
objects  around  him.  The  deep-knit  furrows  of  his  brow  re- 
laxed and  smoothed  themselves ;  and  the  rest  of  his  features, 
which  had  seemed  contorted  with  internal  agony,  relapsed 
into  a  more  natural  state.  When  he  raised  his  head  and  sat 
upright,  his  countenance,  though  still  deeply  melancholy, 
was  divested  of  its  wildness  and  ferocity  ;  and  in  its  com- 
posed state,  although  by  no  means  handsome,  the  expression 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  199 

of  his  features  was  striking,  manly,  and  even  noble.  His 
thick  brown  eyebrows,  which  had  hitherto  been  drawn  close 
together,  were  now  slightly  separated  as  in  the  natural  state ; 
and  his  gray  eyes,  which  had  rolled  and  flashed  from  under 
them  with  an  unnatural  and  portentous  gleam,  now  recov- 
ered a  steady  and  determined  expression. 

*^  Thank  God!'^  he  said,  after  sitting  silent  for  about  a 
minute,  until  the  very  last  sounds  of  the  harp  had  ceased  to 
vibrate,  ^^my  soul  is  no  longer  darkened;  the  mist  hath 
passed  from  my  spirit." 

*^You  owe  thanks,  cousin  Allan,"  said  Lord  Menteith, 
coming  forward,  '^to  Annot  Lyle  as  well  as  to  Heaven  for 
this  happy  change  in  your  melancholy  mood." 

*'My  noble  cousin  Menteith,"  said  Allan,  rising  and 
greeting  him  very  respectfully,  as  well  as  kindly,  **  has  known 
my  unhappy  circumstances  so  long  that  his  goodness  will  re- 
quire no  excuse  for  my  being  thus  late  in  bidding  him  wel- 
come to  the  castle." 

'^  We  are  too  old  acquaintances,  Allan,"  said  Lord  Men- 
teith, *'and  too  good  friends,  to  stand  on  the  ceremonial  of 
outward  greeting  ;  but  half  the  Highlands  will  be  here  to-day, 
and  you  know  with  our  mountain  Chiefs  ceremony  must  not 
be  neglected.  What  will  you  give  little  Annot  for  making 
you  fit  company  to  meet  Evan  Dhu  and  I  know  not  how 
many  bonnets  and  feathers  ?  " 

"What  will  he  give  me?"  said  Annot,  smiling;  *' noth- 
ing less,  I  hope,  than  the  best  ribbon  at  the  Fair  of  Doune." 

"The  Fair  of  Doune,  Annot?"  said  Allan,  sadly. 
"  There  will  be  bloody  work  before  that  day,  and  I  may  never 
see  it ;  but  you  have  well  reminded  me  of  what  I  have  long 
intended  to  do." 

Having  said  this,  he  left  the  room. 

"Should  he  talk  long  in  this  manner,"  said  Lord  Men- 
teith, "  you  must  keep  your  harp  in  tune,  my  dear  Annot." 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Annot,  anxiously  ;  "  this  fit  has  been 
a  long  one,  and  probably  will  not  soon  return.  It  is  fearful  to 
see  a  mind,  naturally  generous  and  affectionate,  afilicted  by 
this  constitutional  malady." 

As  she  spoke  in  a  low  and  confidential  tone.  Lord  Men- 
teith naturally  drew  close  and  stooped  forward  that  he  might 
the  better  catch  the  sense  of  what  she  said.  W^hen  Allan  sud- 
denly entered  the  apartment,  they  as  naturally  drew  back 
from  each  other,  with  a  manner  expressive  of  consciousness, 
as  if  surprised  in  a  conversation  which  they  wished  to  keep 
secret  from  him.     This  did  not  escape  Allan's  observation  :  he 


200  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

stopped  short  at  the  door  of  the  apartment,  his  brows  were 
contracted,  his  eyes  rolled  ;  but  it  was  only  the  paroxysm  of  a 
moment.  He  passed  his  broad  sinewy  hand  across  his  brow, 
as  if  to  obliterate  these  signs  of  emotion,  and  advanced  to- 
wards Annot,  holding  in  his  hand  a  very  small  box  made  of 
oak-wood,  curiously  inlaid.  '^I  take  you  to  witness,'^  he 
said,  '^  cousin  Menteith,  that  I  give  this  box  and  its  contents 
to  Annot  Lyle.  It  contains  a  few  ornaments  that  belonged 
to  my  poor  mother,  of  trifling  value,  you  may  guess,  for  the 
wife  of  a  Highland  laird  has  seldom  a  rich  jewel-casket.^' 

"  But  these  ornaments,"  said  Annot  Lyle,  gently  and  timidly 
refusing  the  box,  '^^  belong  to  the  family  ;  I  cannot  ac- 
cept  " 

^'  They  belong  to  me  alone,  Annot,"  said  Allan,  inter- 
rupting her  ;  ^Hhey  were  my  mother's  dying  bequest.  They 
are  all  I  can  call  my  own,  except  my  plaid  and  my  claymore. 
Take  them,  therefore,  they  are  to  me  valueless  trinkets  ;  and 
keep  them  for  my  sake,  should  I  never  return  from  these 
wars." 

So  saying,  he  opened  the  case  and  presented  it  to  Annot. 
"  If,"  said  he,"  they  are  of  any  value,  dispose  of  them  for  your 
own  support  when  this  house  has  been  consumed  with  hostile 
fire,  and  can  no  longer  afford  you  protection.  But  keep  one 
ring  in  memory  of  Allan,  who  has  done,  to  requite  your  kind- 
ness, if  not  all  he  wished,  at  least  all  he  could." 

Annot  Lyle  endeavored  in  vain  to  restrain  the  gathering 
tears  when  she  said,  "  One  ring,  Allan,  I  will  accept  from  you 
as  a  memorial  of  your  goodness  to  a  poor  orphan,  but  do  not 
press  me  to  take  more  ;  for  I  cannot,  and  will  not,  accept  a 
gift  of  such  disproportioned  value." 

"Make  your  choice,  then,"  said  Allan;  "your  delicacy 
may  be  well  founded  ;  the  others  will  assume  a  shape  in  which 
they  may  be  more  useful  to  you." 

"  Think  not  of  it,"  said  Annot,  choosing  from  the  con- 
tents of  the  casket  a  ring,  apparently  the  most  trifling  in 
value  which  it  contained  ;  "keep  them  for  your  own  or  your 
brother's  bride.  But,  good  Heavens  ! "  she  said,  interrupting 
herself,  and  looking  at  the  ring,  "  what  is  this  that  I  have 
chosen  ?  " 

Allan  hastened  to  look  upon  it,  with  eyes  of  gloomy  ap- 
prehension :  it  bore,  in  enamel,  a  death's  head  above  two 
crossed  daggers.  When  Allan  recognized  the  device  he 
uttered  a  sigh  so  deep  that  she  dropped  the  ring  from  her 
hand,  which  rolled  upon  the  floor.  Lord  Menteith  picked  it 
up  and  returned  it  to  the  terrified  Annot. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MOhTROSE  20i 

''I  take  God  to  witness/^  said  Allan,  in  a  solemn  tone, 
''that  your  hand,  young  lord,  and  not  mine,  has  again  de- 
livered to  her  this  ill-omened  gift.  It  was  the  mourning  ring 
worn  by  my  mother  in  memorial  of  her  murdered  brother/-* 

"1  fear  no  omens, ^'  said  Annot,  smiling  through  her  tears  ; 
''  and  nothing  coming  through  the  hands  of  my  two  patrons,^' 
so  she  was  wont  to  call  Lord  Menteith  and  Allan,  ''can  bring 
bad  luck  to  the  poor  orphan." 

She  put  the  ring  on  her  finger,  and,  turning  to  her  harp, 
sang  to  a  lively  air  the  following  verses  of  one  of  the  fashion- 
able songs  of  the  period,  which  had  found  its  way,  marked  as 
it  was  with  the  quaint  hyperbolical  taste  of  King  Charles's 
time,  from  some  court  mask  to  the  wilds  of  Perthshire  : 

"  Gaze  not  upon  the  stars,  fond  sage, 
In  them  no  influence  lies  ; 
To  read  the  fate  of  youth  or  age, 
Look  on  my  Helen's  eyes. 

**  Yet,  rash  astrologer,  refrain  I 
Too  dearly  would  be  won 
The  prescience  of  another's  pain, 
If  purchased  by  thine  own." 

"  She  is  right,  Allan,"  said  Lord  Menteith ;  "  and  this  end 
of  an  old  song  is  worth  all  we  shall  gain  by  our  attempt  to 
look  into  futurity." 

"  She  is  VTRONG,  my  lord,"  said  Allan,  sternly,  "  though 
you,  who  treat  with  lightness  the  warnings  I  have  given  you, 
may  not  live  to  see  the  event  of  the  omen.  Laugh  not  so 
scornfully,"  he  added,  interrupting  himself,  "or  rather  laugh 
on  as  loud  and  as  long  as  you  will ;  your  term  of  laughter  w  ill 
find  a  pause  ere  long." 

"  I  care  not  for  your  visions,  Allan,"  said  Lord  Menteith  ; 
"  however  short  my  span  of  life,  the  eye  of  no  Highland  seer 
can  see  its  termination." 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,"  said  Annot  Lyle,  mterrupting  him, 
"  you  know  his  nature,  and  how  little  he  can  endure " 

"Fear  me  not,"  said  Allan,  interrupting  her,  "my  mind 
is  now  constant  and  calm.  But  for  you,  young  lord,"  said  he, 
fcurning  to  Lord  Menteith,  "  my  eye  has  sought  you  through 
fields  of  battle,  where  Highlanders  and  Lowlanders  lay  strewed 
as  thick  as  ever  the  rooks  sat  on  those  ancient  trees,"  point- 
ing to  a  rookery  which  was  seen  from  the  window — "  my  eye 
sought  you,  but  your  corpse  was  not  there ;  my  eye  sought 
you  among  a  train  of  unresisting  and  disarmed  captives, 
drawn  up  within  the  bounding  walls  of  an  ancient  and  rugged 


202  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

fortress  :  flash  after  flash — platoon  after  platoon — the  hostile 
shot  fell  among  them,  they  dropped  like  the  dry  leaves  in 
autumn,  but  you  were  not  among  their  ranks  ;  scaffolds  were 
prepared,  blocks  were  arranged,  sawdust  was  spread,  the 
priest  was  ready  with  his  book,  the  headsman  with  his  axe ; 
but  there,  too,  mine  eye  found  you  not.'' 

^^  The  gibbet,  then,  I  suppose,  must  be  my  doom  ?  ^'  said 
Lord  Menteith.  "  Yet  I  wish  they  had  spared  me  the  halter, 
were  it  but  for  the  dignity  of  the  peerage/' 

He  spoke  this  scornfully,  yet  not  without  a  sort  of  curios- 
ity, and  a  wish  to  receive  an  answer ;  for  the  desire  of  prying 
into  futurity  frequently  has  some  influence  even  on  the  minds 
of  those  who  disavow  all  belief  in  the  possibility  of  such  pre- 
dictions. 

'^Your  rank,  my  lord,  will  suffer  no  dishonor  in  your 
person  or  by  the  manner  of  your  death.  Three  times  have 
I  seen  a  Highlander  plant  his  dirk  in  your  bosom,  and  such 
will  be  your  fate. " 

*'  I  wish  you  would  describe  him  to  me,"  said  Lord  Men- 
teith, "and  I  shall  save  him  the  trouble  of  fulfilling  your 
prophecy,  if  his  plaid  be  passable  to  sword  or  pistol." 

'*  Your  weapons,"  said  Allan,  "  would  avail  you  little  ; 
nor  can  I  give  you  the  information  you  desire.  The  face  of 
the  vision  has  been  ever  averted  from  me." 

"  So  be  it  then,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "and  let  it  rest  in 
the  uncertainty  in  which  your  augury  has  placed  it.  I  shall 
dine  not  the  less  merrily  among  plaids  and  dirks  and  kilts  to- 
day." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  said  Allan  ;  "  and  it  may  be  you  do  Avell 
to  enjoy  these  moments,  which  to  me  are  poisoned  by  au- 
guries of  future  evil.  But  I,"  he  continued — "  I  repeat  to  you, 
that  this  weapon — that  is,  such  a  weapon  as  this,"  touching 
the  hilt  of  the  dirk  which  he  wore — "carries  your  fate." 

"  In  the  meanwhile,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  "you,  Allan, 
have  frightened  the  blood  from  the  cheeks  of  Annot  Lyle ; 
let  us  leave  this  discourse,  my  friend,  and  go  to  see  what  we 
both  understand — the  progress  of  our  military  preparations." 

They  joined  Angus  M'Aulay  and  his  English  guests,  and, 
in  the  military  discussions  which  immediately  took  place, 
Allan  showed  a  clearness  of  mind,  strength  of  judgment,  and 
precision  of  thought  totally  inconsistent  with  the  mystical 
light  in  which  his  character  has  been  hitherto  exhibited. 


CHAPTER  VII 


When  Albin  her  claymore  indignantly  draws, 

When  her  bonneted  chieftains  around  her  shall  crowd, 

Clan-Ranald  the  dauntless,  and  Moray  the  proud, 

All  plaided  and  plumed  in  their  tartan  array 

Lochiel's  Warning. 

Whoever  saw  that  morning  the  Castle  of  Damlinvarach, 
beheld  a  busy  and  a  gallant  sight. 

The  various  Chiefs,  arriving  with  their  different  retinues, 
which,  notwithstanding  their  numbers,  formed  no  more  than 
their  usual  equipage  and  body-guard  upon  occasions  of 
solemnity,  saluted  the  lord  of  the  castle  and  each  other  with 
overflowing  kindness  or  with  haughty  and  distant  politeness, 
according  to  the  circumstances  of  friendship  or  hostility  in 
which  their  clans  had  recently  stood  to  each  other.  Each 
Chief,  however  small  his  comparative  importance,  showed 
the  full  disposition  to  exact  from  the  rest  the  deference  due 
to  a  separate  'and  independent  prince  ;  while  the  stronger 
and  more  powerful,  divided  among  themselves  by  recent  con- 
tentions or  ancient  feuds,  were  constrained  in  policy  to  use 
great  deference  to  the  feelings  of  their  less  powerful  brethren, 
in  order,  in  case  of  need,  to  attach  as  many  well-wishers  as 
might  be  to  their  own  interest  and  standard.  Thus  the 
meeting  of  Chiefs  resembled  not  a  little  those  ancient  Diets 
of  the  Empire,  where  the  smallest  Freygraf  who  possessed  a' 
castle  perched  upon  a  barren  crag,  with  a  few  hundred  acres 
around  it,  claimed  the  state  and  honors  of  a  sovereign  prince, 
and  a  seat  according  to  his  rank  among  the  dignitaries  of 
the  Empire. 

The  followers  of  the  different  leaders  were  separately  ar- 
ranged and  accommodated,  as  room  and  circumstances  best 
permitted,  each  retaining,  however,  his  henchman,  wno 
waited,  close  as  the  shadow,  upon  his  person,  to  execute  what- 
ever might  be  required  by  his  patron. 

The  exterior  of  the  castle  afforded  a  singular  scene.  The 
Highlanders,  from  different  islands,  glens,  and  straths,  eyed 
each  other  at  a  distance  with  looks  of  emulation,  inquisitive 
curiosity,  or  hostile  malevolence ;  but  the  most  astounding 

308 


204  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

part  of  the  assembly,  at  least  to  a  Lowland  ear,  was  the  rival 
performance  of  the  bagpipers.  These  warlike  minstrels,  who 
had  the  highest  opinion  each  of  the  superiority  of  his  own 
tribe,  joined  to  the  most  overweening  idea  of  the  importance 
connected  with  his  profession,  at  first  performed  their  various 
pibrochs  in  front  each  of  his  own  clan.  At  length,  however, 
as  the  blackcocks  towards  the  end  of  the  season,  when,  in 
sportsman^s  language,  they  are  said  to  flock  or  crowd,  at- 
tracted together  by  the  sound  of  each  other's  triumphant 
crow,  even  so  did  the  pipers,  swelling  their  plaids  and  tartans 
in  the  same  triumphant  manner  in  which  the  birds  ruffle  up 
their  feathers,  begin  to  approach  each  other  within  such  dis- 
tance as  might  give  to  their  brethren  a  sample  of  their  skill. 
Walking  within  a  short  interval,  and  eying  each  other  with 
looks  in  which  self-importance  and  defiance  might  be  traced, 
they  strutted,  puffed,  and  plied  their  screaming  instruments, 
each  playing  his  own  favorite  tune  with  such  a  din  that,  if 
an  Italian  musician  had  lain  buried  within  ten  miles  of  them, 
he  must  have  risen  from  the  dead  to  run  out  of  hearing. 

The  Chieftains  meanwhile  had  assembled  in  close  conclave 
in  the  great  hall  of  the  castle.  Among  them  were  the  persons 
of  the  greatest  consequence  in  the  Highlands,  some  of  them 
attracted  by  zeal  for  the  royal  cause,  and  many  by  aversion 
to  that  severe  and  general  domination  which  the  Marquis 
of  Argyle,  since  his  rising  to  such  influence  in  the  state,  had 
exercised  over  his  Highland  neighbors.  That  statesman, 
indeed,  though  possessed  of  considerable  abilities  and  great 
power,  had  failings  which  rendered  him  unpopular  among 
the  Highland  chiefs.  The  devotion  which  he  professed  was 
of  a  morose  and  fanatical  character  ;  his  ambition  appeared 
to  be  insatiable  ;  and  inferior  chiefs  complained  of  his  want 
of  bounty  and  liberality.  Add  to  this  that,  although  a  High- 
lander, and  of  a  family  distinguished  for  valor  before  and 
since,  Gillespie  Grumach  (which,  from  an  obliquity  in  his 
eyes,  was  the  personal  distinction  he  bore  in  the  Highlands, 
where  titles  of  rank  are  unknown)  was  suspected  of  being  a 
better  man  in  the  cabinet  than  in  the  field.  He  and  his 
tribe  were  particularly  obnoxious  to  the  McDonalds  and  the 
McLeans,  two  numerous  sects,  who,  though  disunited  by 
ancient  feuds,  agreed  in  an  intense  dislike  to  the  Campbells, 
or,  as  they  were  called,  the  Children  of  Diarmid. 

For  some  time  the  assembled  Chiefs  remained  silent,  until 
Bome  one  should  open  the  business  of  the  meeting.  At  length 
one  of  the  most  powerful  of  them  commenced  the  diet  by 
saying,  "  We  have  been  summoned  hither,  M'Aulay,  to  con* 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  205 

salt  of  weighty  matters  concerning  the  King's  affairs  and 
those  of  the  state,  and  we  crave  to  know  by  whom  they  are 
to  be  explained  to  us  ?'^ 

M'Aulay,  whose  strength  did  not  lie  in  oratory,  intimated 
his  wish  that  Lord  Menteith  should  open  the  business  of  the 
council.  With  great  modesty,  and  at  the  same  time  with 
spirit,  that  young  lord  said,  "  He  wished  what  he  was  about 
to  propose  had  come  from  some  person  of  better  known  and 
more  established  character.  Since,  however,  it  lay  with  him 
to  be  spokesman,  he  had  to  state  to  the  Chiefs  assembled  that 
those  who  wished  to  throw  off  the  base  yoke  which  fanaticism 
had  endeavored  to  wreath  round  their  necks  had  not  a 
moment  to  lose.  The  Covenanters,"  he  said,  "  after  having 
twice  made  war  upon  their  sovereign,  and  having  extorted 
from  him  every  request,  reasonable  or  unreasonable,  which 
they  thought  proper  to  demand  ;  after  their  Chiefs  had  been 
loaded  with  dignities  and  favors ;  after  having  publicly 
declared,  when  his  Majesty,  after  a  gracious  visit  to  the  land 
of  his  nativity,  was  upon  his  return  to  England,  that  he  re- 
turned a  contented  king  from  a  contented  people — after  all 
this,  and  without  even  the  pretext  for  a  national  grievance, 
the  same  men  have,  upon  doubts  and  suspicions  equally  dis- 
honorable to  the  King  and  groundless  in  themselves,  detached 
a  strong  army  to  assist  his  rebels  in  England  in  a  quarrel 
with  which  Scotland  had  no  more  to  do  than  she  has  with  the 
wars  in  Germany.  It  was  well,''  he  said,  ''that  the  eager- 
ness with  which  this  treasonable  purpose  was  pursued  had 
blinded  the  junta  who  now  usurped  the  government  of  Scot- 
land to  the  risk  which  they  were  about  to  incur.  The  army 
which  they  had  dispatched  to  England  under  old  Leven  com- 
prehended their  veteran  soldiers,  the  strength  of  those  armies 
which  had  been  levied  in  Scotland  during  the  two  former 
wars " 

Here  Captain  Dalgetty  endeavored  to  rise  for  the  purpose 
of  explaining  how  many  veteran  officers,  trained  in  the  German 
wars,  were,  to  his  certain  knowledge,  in  the  army  of  the  Earl 
of  Leven.  But  Allan  M'Aulay,  holding  him  down  in  his  seat 
with  one  hand,  pressed  the  forefinger  of  the  other  upon  his 
own  lips,  and,  though  T\^th  some  difficulty,  prevented  his 
interference.  Captain  Dalgetty  looked  upon  him  with  a  very 
scornful  and  indignant  air,  by  which  the  other's  gravity  was 
in  no  way  moved,  and  Lord  Menteith  proceeded  without 
farther  interruption. 

''The  moment,"  he  said,  "was  most  favorable  for  all 
true-hearted  and  loyal  Scotchmen  to  show  that  the  reproach 


206  WaVERLEY  novels 

their  country  had  lately  undergone  arose  from  the  selfish  am- 
bition of  a  few  turbulent  and  seditious  men,  joined  to  the 
absurd  fanaticism  which,  disseminated  from  five  hundred 
pulpits,  had  spread  like  a  land  flood  over  the  Lowlands  of 
Scotland.  He  had  letters  from  the  Marquis  of  Huntly  in  the 
north,  which  he  should  show  to  the  Chiefs  separately.  That 
nobleman,  equally  loyal  and  powerful,  was  determined  to  exert 
his  utmost  energy  in  the  common  cause,  and  the  powerful 
Earl  of  Seaforth  was  prepared  to  join  the  same  standard. 
From  the  Earl  of  Airly  and  the  Ogilvies  in  Angus-shire  he 
had  had  communications  equally  decided  ;  and  there  was  no 
doubt  that  these,  who,  with  the  Hays,  Leiths,  Burnets,  and 
other  loyal  gentlemen,  would  be  soon  on  horseback,  would 
form  a  body  far  more  than  sufficient  to  overawe  the  northern 
Covenanters,  who  had  already  experienced  their  valor  in  the 
well-known  rout  which  was  popularly  termed  the  '  Trot  of 
Turriff.'  South  of  Forth  and  Tay,''  he  said,  "  the  King  had 
many  friends,  who,  oppressed  by  enforced  oaths,  compulsatory 
levies,  heavy  taxes,  unjustly  imposed  and  unequally  levied  by 
the  tyranny  of  the  Committee  of  Estates  and  the  inquisi- 
torial insolence  of  the  Presbyterian  divines,  waited  but  the 
waving  of  the  royal  banner  to  take  up  arms.  Douglas,  Tra- 
quair,  Koxburgh,  Hume,  all  friendly  to  the  royal  cause, 
would  counterbalance,"  he  said,  ^*the  Covenanting  interest 
in  the  south  ;  and  two  gentlemen  of  name  and  quality  here 
present,  from  the  north  of  England,  would  answer  for  the 
zeal  of  Cumberland,  Westmoreland,  and  Northumberland. 
Against  so  many  gallant  gentlemen  the  southern  Covenanters 
could  but  arm  raw  levies — the  Whigamores  of  the  western 
shires  and  the  ploughmen  and  mechanics  of  the  Low  Country. 
For  the  West  Highlands,  he  knew  no  interest  which  the 
Covenanters  possessed  there  except  that  of  one  individual,  as 
well  known  as  he  was  odious.  But  was  there  a  single  man 
who,  on  casting  his  eye  round  this  hall,  and  recognizing  the 
power,  the  gallantry,  and  the  dignity  of  the  Chiefs,  assembled, 
could  entertain  a  moment's  doubt  of  their  success  against  the 
utmost  force  which  Gillespie  Grumach  could  collect  against 
them  ?  He  had  only  farther  to  add  that  considerable  funds, 
both  of  money  and  ammunition,  had  been  provided  for  the 
army  [here  Dalgetty  pricked  up  his  ears]  ;  that  officers  of 
ability  and  experience  in  the  foreign  wars,  one  of  whom  was 
now  present  [the  Captain  drew  himself  up,  and  looked 
round],  had  engaged  to  train  such  levies  as  might  require  to 
be  disciplined  ;  and  that  a  numerous  body  of  auxiliary  forces 
from  Ireland,  having  been  detached  from  the  Earl  of  Antrim, 


I 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  207 

from  Ulster,  had  successfully  accomplished  their  descent  upon 
the  mainland,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  Clan  Ranald's  peo- 
ple, having  taken  and  fortified  the  Castle  of  Mingarry,  in 
spite  of  Argyle's  attempts  to  intercept  them,  were  in  full 
march  to  this  place  of  rendezvous.  It  only  remained,^'  he 
said,  ^'that  the  noble  Chiefs  assembled,  laying  aside  every 
lesser  consideration,  should  unite,  heart  and  hand,  in  the 
common  cause  ;  send  the  fiery  cross  through  their  clans,  in 
order  to  collect  their  utmost  force  ;  and  form  their  junction 
with  such  celerity  as  to  leave  the  enemy  no  time  either  for 
preparation  or  recovery  from  the  panic  which  would  spread 
at  the  first  sound  of  their  pibroch.  He  himself,"  he  said, 
^'  though  neither  among  the  richest  nor  the  most  powerful 
of  the  Scottish  nobility,  felt  that  he  had  to  support  the  dig- 
nity of  an  ancient  and  honorable  house,  the  independence  of 
an  ancient  and  honorable  nation,  and  to  that  cause  he  was 
determined  to  devote  both  life  and  fortune.  If  those  who 
were  more  powerful  were  equally  prompt,  he  trusted  they 
would  deserve  the  thanks  of  their  King  and  the  gratitude  of 
posterity." 

Loud  applause  followed  this  speech  of  Lord  Menteith,  and 
testified  the  general  acquiescence  of  all  present  in  the  senti- 
ments which  he  had  expressed ;  but  when  the  shout  had  died 
away,  the  assembled  Chiefs  continued  to  gaze  upon  each 
other  as  if  something  yet  remained  to  be  settled.  After  some 
whispers  among  themselves,  an  aged  man,  whom  his  gray 
hairs  rendered  respectable,  although  he  was  not  of  the  highest 
order  of  Chiefs,  replied  to  what  had  been  said.  ^'  Thane  of 
Menteith,"  he  said,  *^you  have  well  spoken  ;  nor  is  there  one 
of  us  in  whose  bosom  the  same  sentiments  do  not  burn  like 
fire.  But  it  is  not  strength  alone  that  wins  the  fight ;  it  is 
the  head  of  the  commander  as  well  as  the  arm  of  the  soldier 
that  brings  victory.  I  ask  of  you  who  is  to  raise  and  sustain 
the  banner  under  which  we  are  invited  to  rise  and  muster 
ourselves  ?  Will  it  be  expected  that  we  should  risk  our  chil- 
dren and  the  flower  of  our  kinsmen  ere  we  know  to  whose 
guidance  they  are  to  be  intrusted  ?  This  were  leading  those 
to  slaughter  whom,  by  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  it  is  our 
duty  to  protect.  Where  is  the  royal  commission  under  which 
the  lieges  are  to  be  convocated  in  arms  ?  Simple  and  rude  as 
we  may  be  deemed,  we  know  something  of  the  established 
rules  of  war,  as  well  as  the  laws  of  our  country  ;  nor  will  we 
arm  ourselves  against  the  general  peace  of  Scotland  unless  by 
the  express  commands  of  the  King,  and  under  a  leader  fit  to 
command  such  men  as  are  here  assembled." 


203  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''Where  would  you  find  such  aleader/'  said  another  Chief, 
starting  up,  "  saving  the  representative  of  the  Lord  of  the 
Isles,  entitled  by  birth  and  hereditary  descent  to  lead  fortlji 
the  array  of  every  clan  of  the  Highlands  ?  and  where  is  that 
dignity  lodged,  save  in  the  house  of  Vich  Alister  More  ? '' 

"  I  acknowledge, '*  said  another  Chief,  eagerly  interrupt- 
ing the  speaker,  ''the  truth  in  what  has  been  first  said,  but 
not  the  inference.  If  Vich  Alister  More  desires  to  be  held 
representative  of  the  Lord  of  the  Isles,  let  him  first  show  his 
blood  is  redder  than  mine/^ 

"  That  is  soon  tried,^'  said  Vich  Alister  More,  laying  his 
hand  upon  the  basket  hilt  of  his  claymore.  Lord  Menteith 
threw  himself  between  them,  entreating  and  imploring  each  to 
remember  that  the  interests  of  Scotland,  the  liberty  of  their 
country,  and  the  cause  of  their  King  ought  to  be  superior  iu 
their  eyes  to  any  personal  disputes  respecting  descent,  rank, 
and  precedence.  Several  of  the  Highland  Chiefs,  who  had 
no  desire  to  admit  the  claims  of  either  chieftain,  interfered 
to  the  same  purpose,  and  none  with  more  emphasis  than  the 
celebrated  Evan  Dhu. 

"  I  have  come  from  my  lakes,"  he  said,  "as  a  stream  de- 
scends from  the  hills,  not  to  turn  again,  but  to  accomplish 
my  course.  It  is  not  by  looking  back  to  our  own  pretensions 
that  we  shall  serve  Scotland  or  King  Charles.  My  voice 
shall  be  for  that  general  whom  the  King  shall  name,  who 
will  doubtless  possess  those  qualities  which  are  necessary  to 
command  men  like  us.  High-born  he  must  be,  or  we  shall 
lose  our  rank  in  obeying  him ;  wise  and  skilful,  or  we  shall 
endanger  the  safety  of  our  people ;  bravest  among  the  brave, 
or  we  shall  peril  our  own  honor ;  temperate,  firm,  and  manly, 
to  keep  us  united.  Such  is  the  man  that  must  command  us. 
Are  you  prepared.  Thane  of  Menteith,  to  say  where  such  a 
general  is  to  be  found  ?  " 

"There  is  but  o^^"  said  Allan  M'Aulay  ;  "and  here,'* 
he  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  Anderson,  who 
stood  behind  Lord  Menteith — "  here  he  stands !" 

The  general  surprise  of  the  meeting  was  expressed  by  an 
impatient  murmur;  when  Anderson,  throwing  back" the 
cloak  in  which  his  face  was  muffled,  and  stepping  forward, 
spoke  thus :  "  I  did  not  long  intend  to  be  a  silent  spectator 
of  this  interesting  scene,  althougli  my  hasty  friend  has 
obliged  me  to  disclose  myself  somewhat  sooner  than  was  my 
intention.  Whether  I  deserve  the  honor  reposed  in  me  by 
this  parchment  will  best  appear  from  what  I  shall  be  able  to 
do  for  the  King's  service.     It  is  a  commission,  under  th^ 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  209 

great  seal,  to  James  Graham,  Earl  of  Montrose,  to  command 
those  forces  which  are  to  be  assembled  for  the  service  of  his 
Majesty  in  this  kingdom/' 

A  loud  shout  of  approbation  burst  from  the  assembly. 
There  was,  in  fact,  no  other  person  to  whom,  in  point  of 
rank,  these  proud  mountaineers  would  have  been  disposed  to 
submit.  His  inveterate  and  hereditary  hostility  to  the  Mar- 
quis of  Argyle  insured  his  engaging  in  the  war  with  sufficient 
energy,  while  his  well-known  military  talents  and  his  tried 
valor  afforded  every  hope  of  his  bringing  it  to  a  favorable 
conclusion. 


CHAPTER  YIII 

Our  plot  is  a  good  plot  as  ever  was  laid  ;  our  friends  true  and  con- 
stant— a  good  plot,  good  friends,  and  full  of  expectation — an 
excellent  plot,  very  good  friends. 

Hmry  IV.,  Part  I. 

No  sooner  had  the  general  acclamation  of  joyful  surprise  sub- 
sided than  silence  was  eagerly  demanded  for  reading  the  royal 
commission  ;  and  the  bonnets,  which  hitherto  each  Chief  had 
worn,  probably  because  unwilling  to  be  the  first  to  uncover, 
were  now  at  once  veiled  in  honor  of  the  royal  warrant.  It  was 
couched  in  the  most  full  and  ample  terms,  authorizing  the 
Earl  of  Montrose  to  assemble  the  subjects  in  arms,  for  the 
putting  down  the  present  rebellion,  which  divers  traitors  and 
seditious  persons  had  levied  against  the  King,  to  the  manifest 
forfaulture,  as  it  stated,  of  their  allegiance,  and  to  the  breach 
of  the  pacification  between  the  two  kingdoms.  It  enjoined 
all  subordinate  authorities  to  be  obedient  and  assisting  to 
Montrose  in  his  enterprise  ;  gave  him  the  power  of  making 
ordinances  and  proclamations,  punishing  misdemeanors,  par- 
doning criminals,  placing  and  displacing  governors  and  com- 
manders. In  fine,  it  was  as  large  and  full  a  commission  as 
any  with  which  a  prince  could  intrust  a  subject.  As  soon  as 
it  was  finished  a  shout  burst  from  the  assembled  Chiefs,  in 
testimony  of  their  ready  submission  to  the  will  of  their  sov- 
ereign. Not  contented  with  generally  thanking  them  for  a 
reception  so  favorable,  Montrose  hastened  to  address  himself 
to  individuals.  The  most  important  Chiefs  had  already  been 
long  personally  known  to  him,  but  even  to  those  of  inferior 
consequence  he  now  introduced  himself,  and  by  the  acquaint- 
ance he  displayed  with  their  peculiar  designations  and  the 
circumstances  and  history  of  their  clans,  he  showed  how  long 
he  must  have  studied  the  character  of  the  mountaineers,  and 
prepared  himself  for  such  a  situation  as  he  now  held. 

While  he  was  engaged  in  these  acts  of  courtesy  his  grace- 
ful manner,  expressive  features,  and  dignity  of  deportment 
made  a  singular  contrast  with  the  coarseness  and  meanness  of 
his  dress.     Montrose  possessed  that  sort  of  form  and  face  in 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  211 

which  the  beholder,  at  the  first  glance,  sees  nothing  extraordi- 
nary, but  of  which  the  interest  becomes  more  impressive  the 
longer  we  gaze  upon  them.  His  stature  was  very  little  above 
the  middle  size,  but  in  person  he  was  uncommonly  well-built, 
and  capable  both*  of  exerting  great  force  and  enduring  much 
fatigue.  In  fact,  he  enjoyed  a  constitution  of  iron,  without 
which  he  could  not  have  sustained  the  trials  of  his  extraordi- 
nary campaigns,  through  all  of  which  he  subjected  himself 
to  the  hardships  of  the  meanest  soldier.  He  was  perfect  in 
all  exercises,  whether  peaceful  or  martial,  and  possessed,  of 
course,  that  graceful  ease  of  deportment  proper  to  those  to 
whom  habit  has  rendered  all  postures  easy. 

His  long  brown  hair,  according  to  the  custom  of  men  of 
quality  among  the  Royalists,  was  parted  on  the  top  of  his 
head,  and  trained  to  hang  down  on  each  side  in  curled  locks, 
one  of  which,  descending  two  or  three  inches  lower  than  the 
others,  intimated  Montrose^s  compliance  with  that  fashion 
against  which  it  pleased  Mr.  Prynne,  the  Puritan,  to  write  a 
treatise  entitled  The  Unloveliness  of  Love-lochs.  The  features 
which  these  tresses  inclosed  were  of  that  kind  which  derive 
their  interest  from  the  character  of  the  man  rather  than 
from  the  regularity  of  their  form.  But  a  high  nose,  a  full, 
decided,  well-opened,  quick  gray  eye,  and  a  sanguine  com- 
plexion, made  amends  for  some  coarseness  and  irregularity  in 
the  subordinate  parts  of  the  face ;  so  that,  altogether,  Mon- 
trose might  be  termed  rather  a  handsome  than  a  hard-featured 
man.  But  those  who  saw  him  when  his  soul  looked  through 
those  eyes  with  all  the  energy  and  fire  of  genius,  those  who 
heard  him  speak  with  the  authority  of  talent  and  the  elo- 
quence of  nature,  were  impressed  with  an  opinion  even  of  his  ex- 
ternal form  more  enthusiastically  favorable  than  the  portraits 
which  still  survive  would  entitle  us  to  ascribe  to  it.  Such,  at 
least,  was  the  impression  he  made  upon  the  assembled  Chiefs 
of  the  mountaineers,  over  whom,  as  upon  all  persons  in  their 
state  of  society,  personal  appearance  has  no  small  influence. 

In  the  discussions  which  followed  his  discovering  himself, 
Montrose  explained  the  various  risks  which  he  had  run  in  his 
present  undertaking.  His  first  attempt  had  been  to  assemble 
a  body  of  loyalists  in  the  north  of  England,  who,  in  obedience 
to  the  orders  of  the  Marquis  of  ^Newcastle,  he  expected  would 
have  marched  into  Scotland ;  but  the  disinclination  of  the 
English  to  cross  the  Border,  and  the  delay  of  the  Earl  of  An- 
trim, who  was  to  have  landed  in  the  Solway  Firth  with  his 
Irish  army,  prevented  his  executing  this  design.  Other 
plans  having  in  like  manner  failed,  he  stated  that  he  found 


212  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

himself  under  the  necessity  of  assuming  a  disguise  to  render 
his  passage  secure  through  the  Lowlands,  in  which  he  had 
been  kindly  assisted  by  his  kinsman  of  Menteith.  By  what 
means  Allan  M'Aulay  had  come  to  know  him  he  could  not 
pretend  to  explain.  Those  who  knew  Allan's  prophetic  pre- 
tensions smiled  mysteriously ;  but  he  himself  only  replied, 
that  ^Hhe  Earl  of  Montrose  need  not  be  surprised  if  he  was 
known  to  thousands  of  whom  he  himself  could  retain  no 
memory." 

'^  By  the  honor  of  a  cavalier,''  saM  Captain  Dalgetty,  find- 
ing at  length  an  opportunity  to  thrust  in  his  word,  ^'  I  am 
proud  and  happy  in  having  an  opportunity  of  drawing  a  sword 
under  your  lordship's  command ;  and  I  do  forgive  all  grudge, 
malcontent,  and  malice  of  my  heart  to  Mr.  Allan  M'Aulay  for 
having  thrust  me  down  to  the  lowest  seat  of  the  board  yes- 
treen. Oertes,  he  hath  this  day  spoken  so  like  a  man  having 
full  command  of  his  senses  that  I  had  resolved  in  my  secret 
purpose  that  he  was  no  way  entitled  to  claim  the  privilege  of 
insanity.  But  since  I  was  only  postponed  to  a  noble  earl,  my 
future  commander-in-chief,  I  do,  before  you  all,  recognize  the 
justice  of  the  preference,  and  heartily  salute  Allan  as  one  who 
is  to  be  his  hon  camarado." 

Having  made  this  speech,  which  was  little  understood  or 
attended  to,  without  putting  off  his  military  glove,  he  seized 
on  Allan's  hand  and  began  to  shake  it  with  violence,  which 
Allan,  with  a  grip  like  a  smith's  vise,  returned  with  such 
force  as  to  drive  the  iron  splints  of  the  gauntlet  into  the  hand 
of  the  wearer. 

Captain  Dalgetty  might  have  construed  this  into  a  new 
affront  had  not  his  attention,  as  he  stood  blowing  and  shaking 
the  injured  member,  been  suddenly  called  by  Montrose 
himseli. 

"Hear  this  news,"  he  said,  "  Captain  Dalgetty — I  should 
say  Major  Dalgetty — the  Irish,  who  are  to  profit  by  your  mili- 
tary experience,  are  now  within  a  few  leagues  of  us." 

"Our  deer-stalkers,"  said  Angus  M'Aulay,  "  who  were 
abroad  to  bring  in  venison  for  this  honorable  party,  have 
heard  of  a  band  of  strangers,  speaking  neither  Saxon  nor  pure 
Gaelic,  and  with  difficulty  making  themselves  understood  by 
the  people  of  the  country,  who  are  marching  this  way  in 
arms,  under  the  leading,  it  is  said,  of  Alaster  M'Donnell,  who 
is  commonly  called  Young  Colkitto." 

"  These  must  be  our  men,"  said  Montrose  ;  "  we  must 
hasten  to  send  messengers  forward,  both  to  act  as  guides  and 
to  relieve  their  wants. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  213 

^'  The  last/'  said  Angus  M'Aulay,  '^  will  be  no  easy  matter  ; 
for  I  am  informed  that,  excepting  muskets  and  a  very  little 
ammunition,  they  want  everything  that  soldiers  should  have  ; 
and  they  are  particularly  deficient  in  money,  in  shoes,  and  in 
raiment." 

^*^  There  is  at  least  no  use  in  saying  so,''  said  Montrose, 
'^in  so  loud  a  tone.  The  Puritan  weavers  of  Glasgow  shall 
provide  them  plenty  of  broadcloth  when  we  make  a  descent 
from  the  Highlands ;  and  if  the  ministers  could  formerly 
preach  the  old  women  of  the  Scottish  boroughs  out  of  their 
webs  of  napery  to  make  tents  to  the  fellows  on  Dunse  Law,* 
I  will  try  whether  I  have  not  a  little  interest  both  to  make 
these  godly  dames  renew  their  patriotic  gift  and  the  prick- 
eared  knaves,  their  husbands,  open  their  purses." 

'^And  respecting  arms,"  said  Captain  Dalgetty,  "if  your 
lordship  will  permit  an  old  cavalier  to  speak  his  mind,  so  that 
the  one-third  have  muskets,  my  darling  weapon  would  be  the 
pike  for  the  remainder,  whether  for  resisting  a  charge  of  horse 
or  for  breaking  the  infantry.  A  common  smith  will  make  a 
hundred  pike-heads  in  a  day ;  here  is  plenty  of  wood  for 
shafts ;  and  I  will  uphold  that,  according  to  the  best  usages 
of  war,  a  strong  battalion  of  pikes,  drawn  up  in  the  fashion 
of  the  Lion  of  the  North,  the  immortal  Giistavus,  would  beat 
the  Macedonian  phalanx,  of  which  I  used  to  read  in  the  Mari- 
schal  College,  when  I  studied  in  the  ancient  town  of  Bon  Ac- 
cord ;  and  further,  I  will  venture  to  predicate " 

Tlie  Captain's  lecture  upon  tactics  was  here  suddenly  in- 
terrupted by  Allan  M'Aulay,  who  said  hastily — "Room  for 
an  unexpected  and  unwelcome  guest  ! " 

At  the  same  moment  the  door  of  the  hall  opened,  and  a 
gray-haired  man,  of  a  very  stately  appearance,  presented  him- 
self to  the  assembly.  There  was  much  dignity,  and  even 
authority,  in  his  manner.  His  stature  was  above  the  common 
size,  and  his  looks  such  as  were  used  to  command.  He  cast 
a  severe,  and  almost  stern,  glance  upon  the  assembly  of  Chiefs. 
Those  of  the  higher  rank  among  them  returned  it  with  scorn- 
ful indifference ;  but  some  of  the  western  gentlemen  of  in- 
ferior power  looked  as  if  they  wished  themselves  elsewhere. 

"  To  which  of  this  assembly,"  said  the  stranger,  "am  I  to 
address  myself  as  leader  ?  or  have  you  not  fixed  upon  the  per- 
son who  is  to  hold  an  office  at  least  as  perilous  as  it  is  honor- 
able?" 

"Address  yourself  to  me.  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,"  said 
Montrose,  stepping  forward. 

♦  The  Covenanters  encamped  on  Dunse  Law  during  the  troubles  of  1639, 


214  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  To  you  ! ''  said  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  with  some  scorn. 

'^Yes,  to  me,"  repeated  Montrose — "  to  the  Earl  of  Mon- 
trose, if  you  have  forgot  him." 

**  I  should  now,  at  least,"  said  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  '^  have 
had  some  difficulty  in  recognizing  him  in  the  disguise  of  a 
groom.  And  yet  I  might  have  guessed  that  no  evil  influence 
inferior  to  your  lordship's,  distinguished  as  one  who  troubles 
Israel,  could  have  collected  together  this  rash  assembly  of 
misguided  persons." 

"  I  will  answer  unto  you,"  said  Montrose,  ^^  in  the  manner 
of  your  own  Puritans.  I  have  not  troubled  Israel,  but  thou 
and  thy  father's  house.  But  let  us  leave  an  altercation  which 
is  of  little  consequence  but  to  ourselves,  and  hear  the  tidings 
you  have  brought  from  your  Chief  of  Argyle  ;  for  I  must  con- 
clude that  it  is  in  his  name  that  you  have  come  to  this  meet- 
ing." 

"It  is  in  the  name  of  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,"  said  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell — "  in  the  name  of  the  Scottish  Convention 
of  Estates,  that  I  demand  to  know  the  meaning  of  this  singu- 
lar convocation.  If  it  is  designed  to  disturb  the  peace  of 
the  country,  it  were  but  acting  like  neighbors  and  men  of 
honor  to  give  us  some  intimation  to  stand  upon  our  guard." 

"  It  is  a  singular  and  new  state  of  affairs  in  Scotland," 
said  Montrose,  turning  from  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  to  the 
assembly,  "when  Scottish  men  of  rank  and  family  cannol 
meet  in  the  house  of  a  common  friend  without  an  inquisi- 
torial visit  and  demand,  on  the  part  of  our  rulers,  to  know  the 
subject  of  our  conference.  Methinks  our  ancestors  were  ac- 
customed to  hold  Highland  huntings  or  other  purposes  of 
meeting  without  asking  the  leave  either  of  the  great  M'Callum 
More  himself  or  any  of  his  emissaries  or  dependants." 

"^^  The  times  have  been  such  in  Scotland,"  answered  one 
of  the  Western  Chiefs,  "and  such  they  will  again  be,  when 
the  intruders  on  our  ancient  possessions  are  again  reduced  to 
be  Lairds  of  Lochow,  instead  of  overspreading  us  like  a  band 
of  devouring  locusts." 

"Am  I  to  understand,  then,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  'that  it  is 
against  my  name  alone  that  these  preparations  are  directed  ?  or 
are  the  race  of  Diarmid  only  to  be  sufferers  in  common  with 
the  whole  of  the  peaceful  and  orderly  inhabitants  of  Scot- 
land ?" 

"  I  would  ask,"  said  a  wild-looking  Chief,  starting  hastily 
up,  "  one  question  of  the  Kniglit  of  Ardenvohr  ere  he  pro- 
ceeds farther  in  his  daring  catechism.  Has  he  brought  more 
than  one  life  to  this  castle,  that  he  ventures  to  intrude  among 
us  for  the  purposes  o£  fnsnlf,  jf" 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  JW6 

**  Gentlemen/' said  Montrose,  '4et  me  implore  your  pa- 
tience ;  a  messenger  who  comes  among  us  for  the  purpose  of 
embassy  is  entitled  to  freedom  of  speech  and  a  safe-conduct. 
And  since  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  is  so  pressing,  I  care  not  if 
I  inform  him,  for  his  guidance,  that  he  is  in  an  assembly  of 
the  King's  loyal  subjects,  convoked  by  me,  in  his  Majesty's 
name  and  authority,  and  as  empowered  by  his  Majesty's  royal 
commission." 

'^^We  are  to  have,  then,  I  presume,"  said  Sir  Duncan 
Campbell,  ^'a  civil  war  in  all  its  forms?  I  have  been  too 
long  a  soldier  to  view  its  approach  with  anxiety  ;  but  it 
would  have  been  for  my  Lord  of  Montrose's  honor  if  in  this 
matter  he  had  consulted  his  own  ambition  less  and  the  peace 
of  the  country  more." 

^' Those  consulted  their  own  ambition  and  self-interest. 
Sir  Duncan/'  answered  Montrose,  ^'  who  brought  the  country 
to  the  pass  in  which  it  now  stands,  and  rendered  necessary  the 
sharp  remedies  which  we  are  now  reluctantly  about  to  use." 

''  And  what  rank  among  these  self-seekers,"  said  Sir  Dun- 
can Campbell,  "  shall  we  assign  to  a  noble  Earl  so  violently  at- 
tached to  the  Covenant  that  he  was  the  first,  in  1639,  to 
cross  the  Tyne,  wading  middle  deep  at  the  head  of  his  regi- 
ment, to  charge  the  royal  forces  ?  It  was  the  same,  I  think, 
who  imposed  the  Covenant  upon  the  burgesses  and  colleges 
of  Aberdeen  at  the  point  of  sword  and  pike." 

*^I  understand  your  sneer.  Sir  Duncan,"  said  Montrose, 
temperately  ;  *^and  I  can  only  add  that,  if  sincere  repentance 
can  make  amends  for  youthful  error,  and  for  yielding  to  the 
artful  representation  of  ambitious  hypocrites,  I  shall  be  par- 
doned for  the  crimes  with  which  you  taunt  me.  I  will  at 
least  endeavor  to  deserve  forgiveness,  for  I  am  here,  with  my 
eword  in  my  hand,  willing  to  spend  the  best  blood  of  my 
^ody  to  make  amends  for  my  error ;  and  mortal  man  can  do 
no  more." 

^^Well,  my  lord,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  ^^I  shall  be  sorry  to 
carry  back  this  language  to  the  Marcjuis  of  Argyle.  I  had  it 
in  farther  charge  from  the  Marquis  that,  to  prevent  the 
bloody  feuds  which  must  necessarily  follow  a  Highland  war, 
his  lordship  will  be  contented  if  terms  of  truce  could  be 
arranged  to  the  north  of  the  Highland  line,  as  there  is  ground 
enough  in  Scotland  to  fight  upon,  without  neighbors  de- 
stroying each  other's  families  and  inheritances." 

*'  It  is  a  peaceful  proposal,"  said  Montrose,  smiling,  ''such 
as  it  should  be,  coming  from  one  whose  personal  actions 
have  always  been  more  peaceful  than  his  measures.     Yet,  if  the 


216  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

terms  of  such  a  truce  could  be  equally  fixed,  and  if  we  can 
obtain  security — for  that.  Sir  Duncan,  is  indispensable — that 
your  Marquis  will  observe  these  terms  with  strict  fidelity, 
I,  for  my  part,  should  be  content  to  leave  peace  behind  us, 
since  we  must  needs  carry  war  before  us.  But,  Sir  Duncan, 
you  are  too  old  and  experienced  a  soldier  for  us  to  permit  you  to 
remain  in  our  leaguer  and  witness  our  proceedings  ;  we  shall 
therefore,  when  you  have  refreshed  yourself,  recommend 
your  speedy  return  to  Inverary,  and  we  shall  send  with  you 
a  gentleman  on  our  part  to  adjust  the  terms  of  the  Highland 
armistice,  in  case  the  Marquis  shall  be  found  serious  in  pro- 
posing such  a  measure." 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  assented  by  a  bow. 

"  My  Lord  of  Menteith,"^  continued  Montrose,  "  will  you 
have  the  goodness  to  attend  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  of  Arden- 
vohr,  while  we  determine  who  shall  return  with  him  to  his 
Chief  ?  M'Aulay  will  permit  us  to  request  that  he  be  enter- 
tained with  suitable  hospitality." 

'^I  will  give  orders  for  that,"  said  Allan  M'Aulay,  rising 
and  coming  forward.  ^'I  love  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  ;  we 
have  been  joint  sufferers  in  former  days,  and  I  do  not  forget 
it  now." 

'^  My  Lord  of  Menteith,"  said  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  '*  I 
am  grieved  to  see  ydu,  at  your  early  age,  engaged  in  such 
desperate  and  rebellious  courses." 

''I  am  young,"  answered  Menteith,  ''yet  old  enough  to 
distinguish  between  right  and  wrong,  between  loyalty  and 
rebellion  ;  and  the  sooner  a  good  course  is  begun,  the  longer 
and  the  better  have  I  a  chance  of  running  it." 

''  And  you  too,  my  friend,  Allan  M'Aulay,"  said  Sir  Dun- 
can, taking  his  hand,  "  must  we  also  call  each  other  enemies, 
that  have  been  so  often  allied  against  a  common  foe  ?  "  Then 
turning  round  to  the  meeting,  he  said,  ''  Farewell,  gentle- 
men ;•  there  are  so  many  of  you  to  whom  I  wish  well  that 
your  rejection  of  all  terms  of  mediation  gives  me  deep  afflic- 
tion. May  Heaven,"  he  said,  looking  upwards,  ''judge  be- 
tween our  motives  and  those  of  the  movers  of  this  civil 
commotion  ! " 

"  Amen/'  said  Montrose  ;  "  to  that  tribunal  we  all  submit 
ns/' 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  left  the  hall,  accompanied  by  Allan 
M'Aulay  and  Lord  Menteith.  "  There  goes  a  true-bred 
Campbell,"  said  Montrose  as  the  envoy  departed,  "  for  they 
are  ever  fair  and  false." 

"  Pardon  me,   my  lord,"  said  Evan  Dhu  ;  "  hereditary 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  217 

enemy  as  I  am  to  their  name,  I  have  ever  found  the  Knight 
of  Ardenvohr  brave  in  war,  honest  in  peace,  and  true  in 
council/^ 

'^  Of  his  own  disposition,"  said  Montrose,  '^  such  he  is  un- 
doubtedly ;  but  he  now  acts  as  the  organ  or  mouthpiece  of  his 
Chief,  the  Marquis,  the  falsest  man  that  ever  drew  breath. 
And,  M^Aulay,"  he  continued  in  a  whisper  to  his  host,  ^'  lest 
he  should  make  some  impression  upon  the  inexperience  of 
Menteith  or  the  singular  disposition  of  your  brother,  you  had 
better  send  music  into  their  chamber,  to  prevent  his  invei- 
gling them  into  any  private  conference." 

"  The  devil  a  musician  have  I,"  answered  M'Aulay,  '' ex- 
cepting the  piper,  who  has  nearly  broke  his  wind  by  an  am- 
bitious contention  for  superiority  with  three  of  his  own  craft ; 
but  I  can  send  Annot  Lyle  and  her  harp."  And  he  left  the 
apartment  to  give  orders  accordingly. 

Meanwhile  a  warm  discussion  took  place  who  should  un- 
dertake the  perilous  task  of  returning  with  Sir  Duncan  to  In- 
verary.  To  the  higher  dignitaries,  accustomed  to  consider 
themselves  upon  an  equality  even  with  M'Callum  More,  this 
was  an  office  not  to  be  proposed  ;  unto  others  who  could  not 
plead  the  same  excuse  it  was  altogether  unacceptable.  One 
would  have  thought  Inverary  had  been  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  the  inferior  Chiefs  showed  such  reluctance 
to  approach  it.  After  a  considerable  hesitation,  the  plain 
reason  was  at  length  spoken  out,  namely,  that  whatever  High- 
lander should  undertake  an  office  so  distasteful  to  M^Callum 
More,  he  would  be  sure  to  treasure  the  offence  in  his  remem- 
brance, and  one  day  or  other  to  make  him  bitterly  repent  of  it. 

In  this  dilemma,  Montrose,  who  considered  the  proposed 
armistice  as  a  mere  stratagem  on  the  part  of  Argyle,  although 
he  had  not  ventured  bluntly  to  reject  it  in  presence  of  those 
whom  it  concerned  so  nearly,  resolved  to  impose  the  danger 
and  dignity  upon  Captain  Dalgetty,  who  had  neither  clan  nor 
estate  in  the  Highlands  upon  which  the  wrath  of  Argyle 
could  wreak  itself. 

"But  I  have  a  neck  though,"  said  Dalgetty,  bluntly  ; 
'^  and  what  if  he  chooses  to  avenge  himself  upon  that  ?  I  have 
known  a  case  where  an  honorable  ambassador  has  been 
hanged  as  a  spy  before  now.  Neither  did  the  Romans  use 
ambassadors  much  more  mercifully  at  the  siege  of  Capua,  al- 
though I  read  that  they  only  cut  off  their  hands  and  noses, 
put  out  their  eyes,  and  suffered  them  to  depart  in  peace." 

*'  By  my  honor,  Captain  Dalgetty,"  said  Montrose, 
'*  should  the  Marquis,  contrary  to  the  rules  of  war,  dare  to 


218  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

practise  any  atrocity  against  yon,  you  may  depend  upon  my 
taking  such  signal  vengeance  that  all  Scotland  shall  ring  of  it." 

''  That  will  do  but  little  for  Dalgetty/'  returned  the 
Captain;  "but  corragio !  as  the  Spaniard  says.  With  the 
Land  of  Promise  full  in  view,  the  moor  of  Drumthwacket, 
7nea  paapera  regna,  as  we  said  at  Marischal  College,  I  will 
not  refuse  your  Excellency's  commission,  being  conscious  it 
becomes  a  cavalier  of  honor  to  obey  his  commander's  orders, 
in  defiance  both  of  gibbet  and  sword." 

"  Gallantly  resolved,"  said  Montrose  ;  ^'  and  if  you  will 
come  apart  with  me,  1  will  furnish  you  with  the  conditions 
to  be  laid  before  M'Callum  More,  upon  which  we  are  willing 
to  grant  him  a  truce  for  his  Highland  dominions.'' 

With  these  we  need  not  trouble  our  readers.  They  were 
of  an  evasive  nature,  calculated  to  meet  a  proposal  which 
Montrose  considered  to  have  been  made  only  for  the  purpose 
of  gaining  time.  When  he  had  put  Captain  Dalgetty  in 
complete  possession  of  his  instructions,  and  when  that  worthy, 
making  his  military  obeisance,  was  near  the  door  of  his  apart- 
ment, Montrose  made  him  a  sign  to  return. 

"  I  presume,"  said  he,  '*I  need  not  remind  an  officer  who 
has  served  under  the  great  Gustavus  that  a  little  more  is 
required  of  a  person  sent  with  a  flag  of  truce  than  mere  dis- 
charge of  his  instructions,  and  that  his  general  will  expect 
f-rom  him,  on  his  return,  some  account  of  the  state  of  the 
enemy's  affairs,  as  far  as  they  come  under  his  observation. 
In  short.  Captain  Dalgetty,  you  must  be  un  peu  clairvoyant. " 

^'  Ah  ha !  your  Excellency,"  said  the  Captain,  twisting 
his  hard  features  into  an  inimitable  expression  of  cunning 
and  intelligence,  *' if  they  do  not  put  my  head  in  a  poke, 
which  I  have  known  practised  upon  honorable  soldados  who 
have  been  suspected  to  come  upon  such  errands  as  the  present, 
your  Excellency  may  rely  on  a  preceese  narration  of  whatever 
Dugald  Dalgetty  shall  hear  or  see,  were  it  even  how  many 
turns  of  tune  there  are  in  M'Callum  More's  pibroch,  or  how 
many  checks  in  the  sett  of  his  plaid  and  trews." 

"Enough,"  answered  Montrose;  "farewell.  Captain 
Dalgetty ;  and,  as  they  say  that  a  lady's  mind  is  always  ex- 
pressed in  her  postscript,  so  I  would  have  you  think  that  the 
most  important  part  of  your  commission  lies  in  what  I  have 
last  said  to  you." 

Dalgetty  once  more  grinned  intelligence,  and  withdrew  to 
victual  his  charger  and  himself  for  the  fatigues  of  his  approach- 
ing mission. 

At  tlie  door  of  the  stable — for  Gustavus  always  claimed 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  219 

his  first  care — he  met  Angus  M'Anlay  and  Sir  Miles  Mus- 
grave,  who  had  been  looking  at  his  horse ;  and,  after  prais- 
ing his  points  and  carriage,  both  united  in  strongly  dissuad- 
ing the  Captain  from  taking  an  animal  of  such  value  with 
him  upon  his  present  very  fatiguing  journey. 

Angus  painted  in  the  most  alarming  colors  the  roads,  or 
rather  wild  tracks,  by  which  it  would  be  necessary  for  him  to 
travel  into  Argyleshire,  and  the  wretched  huts  or  bothies 
where  he  would  be  condemned  to  pass  the  night,  and  where 
no  forage  could  be  procured  for  his  horse,  unless  he  could 
eat  the  stumps  of  old  heather.  In  short,  he  pronounced  it 
absolutely  impossible  that,  after  undertaking  such  a  pilgrim- 
age, the  animal  could  be  in  any  case  for  military  service. 
The  Englishman  strongly  confirmed  all  that  Angus  had  said, 
and  gave  himself,  body  and  soul,  to  the  devil  if  he  thought 
it  was  not  an  act  little  short  of  absolute  murder  to  carry  a 
horse  worth  a  fartliing  into  such  a  waste  and  inhospitable 
desert.  Captain  Dalgetty  for  an  instant  looked  steadily  first 
at  one  of  the  gentlemen  and  next  at  the  other,  and  then 
asked  them,  as  if  in  a  state  of  indecision,  what  they  would 
advise  him  to  do  with  Gustavus  under  such  circumstances. 

'^  By  the  hand  of  my  father,  my  dear  friend,'^  an- 
swered M'Aulay,  ^'  if  you  leave  the  beast  in  my  keeping,  you 
may  rely  on  his  being  fed  and  sorted  according  to  his  worth 
and  quality,  and  that,  upon  your  happy  return,  you  will  find 
him  as  sleek  as  an  onion  boiled  in  butter.^' 

"  Or,"  said  Sir  Miles  Musgrave,  "  if  this  worthy  cavalier 
chooses  to  part  with  his  charger  for  a  reasonable  sum,  I  have 
some  part  of  the  silver  candlesticks  still  dancing  the  heys  in 
my  purse,  which  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  transfer  to  his." 

*'^  In  brief,  mine  honorable  friends,"  said  Captain  Dalgetty, 
again  eying  them  both  with  an  air  of  comic  penetration,  "  I 
find  it  would  not  be  altogether  unacceptable  to  either  of  you 
to  have  some  token  to  remember  the  old  soldier  by  in  case  it 
shall  please  M^Callum  More  to  hang  him  up  at  the  gate  of 
his  own  castle.  And  doubtless  it  would  be  no  small  satisfac- 
tion to  me,  in  such  an  event,  that  a  noble  and  loyal  cavalier 
like  Sir  Miles  Musgrave,  or  a  worthy  and  hospitable  Chief- 
tain like  our  excellent  landlord,  should  act  as  my  executor." 

Both  hastened  to  protest  that  they  had  no  such  object, 
and  insisted  again  upon  the  impassable  character  of  the  High- 
land paths.  Angus  M'Aulay  mumbled  over  a  number  of 
hard  Gaelic  names,  descriptive  of  the  difficult  passes,  preci- 
pices, corries,  and  beals  through  which  he  said  the  road  lay 
to  Inverary,  when  old  Donald,,  who  had  now  entered,  sanc- 
tioned his  master^s  account  of  these  difliculties  by  holding  up 


220  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  hands,  and  elevating  his  eyes,  and  shaking  his  head  at 
every  guttural  which  M^Aulay  pronounced.  But  all  this  did 
not  move  the  inflexible  Captain. 

"  My  worthy  friends,^'  said  he,  '^Gustavus  is  not  new  to 
the  dangers  of  travelling  and  the  mountains  of  Bohemia  ;  and 
— no  disparagement  to  the  beals  and  corries  Mr.  Angns  is 
pleased  to  mention,  and  of  which  Sir  Miles,  who  never  saw 
them,  confirms  the  horrors — these  mountains  may  compete 
with  the  vilest  roads  in  Europe.  In  fact,  my  horse  hath  a 
most  excellent  and  social  quality ;  for,  although  he  cannot 
pledge  in  my  cup,  yet  we  share  our  loaf  between  us,  and  it 
will  be  hard  if  he  suffers  famine  where  cakes  or  bannocks  are 
to  be  found.  And,  to  cut  this  matter  short,  I  beseech  you, 
my  good  friends,  to  observe  the  state  of  Sir  Duncan  Camp- 
belFs  palfrey,  which  stands  in  that  stall  before  us,  fat  and, 
fair  ;  and,  in  return  for  your  anxiety  on  my  account,  I  give 
you  my  honest  asseveration  that,  while  we  travel  the  same 
road,  both  that  palfrey  and  his  rider  shall  lack  for  food  before 
either  Gustavus  or  I." 

Having  said  this,  he  filled  a  large  measure  with  corn  and 
walked  up  with  it  to  his  charger,  who,  by  his  low  whinnying 
neigh,  his  pricked  ears,  and  his  pawing,  showed  how  close  the 
alliance  was  betwixt  him  and  his  rider.  Nor  did  he  taste  his 
corn  until  he  had  returned  his  master's  caresses  by  licking 
his  hands  and  face.  After  this  interchange  of  greeting,  the 
steed  began  to  his  provender  with  an  eager  dispatch  which 
showed  old  military  habits  ;  and  the  master,  after  looking  on 
the  animal  with  great  complacency  for  about  five  minutes, 
said,  *'Much  good  may  it  do  your  honest  heart,  Gus- 
tavus  ;  now  must  I  go  and  lay  in  provant  myself  for  the  cam- 
paign." 

He  then  departed,  having  first  saluted  the  Englishman 
and  Angus  M'Aulay,  who  remained  looking  at  each  other 
for  some  time  in  silence,  and  then  burst  out  into  a  fit  of 
laughter. 

'*  That  fellow,"  said  Sir  Miles  Musgrave,  *'  is  formed  to  go 
through  the  world." 

**I  shall  think  so  too,"  said  M'Aulay,  *'if  he  can  slip 
through  M'Callum  More's  fingers  as  easily  as  he  has  done 
through  ours." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  the  Englishman,  "  that  the  Marquis 
will  not  respect  in  Captain  Dalgetty's  person  the  laws  of  civ- 
ilized war  ?  " 

"  No  more  than  I  would  respect  a  Lowland  proclamation," 
said  Angus  M'Aulay.  '*  But  come  along,  it  is  time  I  were 
returning  to  my  guests." 


CHAPTER  IX 

In  a  rebellion. 
When  what's  not  meet,  but  what  must  be,  was  law. 
Then  were  they  chosen  ;  in  a  better  hour, 
l.et  what  is  meet  be  said  it  must  be  meet, 
And  throw  their  power  i'  the  dust. 

Coriolanu8. 

Ik  a  small  apartment,  remote  from  the  rest  of  the  guests 
assembled  at  the  castle,  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  was  presented 
with  every  species  of  refreshment  and  respectfully  attended 
by  Lord  Menteith  and  by  Allan  M'Aulay.  His  discourse  with 
the  latter  turned  upon  a  sort  of  hunting  campaign,  in  which 
they  had  been  engaged  together  against  the  Children  of  the 
Mist,  with  whom  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr,  as  well  as  the 
M'Aulays,  had  a  deadly  and  irreconcilable  feud.  Sir  Duncan, 
however,  speedily  endeavored  to  lead  back  the  conversation 
to  the  subject  of  his  present  errand  to  the  Castle  of  Damlin- 
varach. 

"  It  grieved  him  to  the  very  heart,"  he  said,  "  to  see  that 
friends  and  neighbors,  who  should  stand  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
were  likely  to  be  engaged  hand  to  hand  in  a  cause  which  so 
little  concerned  them.  What  signifies  it,"  he  said,  "  to  the 
Highland  Chiefs  whether  King  or  Parliament  got  uppermost  ? 
Were  it  not  better  to  let  them  settle  their  own  differences 
without  interference,  while  the  Chiefs,  in  the  mean  time,  took 
the  opportunity  of  establishing  their  own  authority  in  a 
manner  not  to  be  called  in  question  hereafter  by  either  King 
or  Parliament  ?"  He  reminded  Allan  M'Aulay  that  the 
measures  taken  in  the  last  reign  to  settle  the  peace,  as  was 
alleged,  of  the  Highlands,  were  in  fact  levelled  at  the  patri- 
archal power  of  the  Chieftains  ;  and  he  mentioned  the  cele- 
brated settlement  of  the  Fife  Undertakers,  as  they  were  called, 
in  the  Lewis,  as  part  of  a  deliberate  plan,  formed  to  introduce 
strangers  among  the  Celtic  tribes,  to  destroy  by  degrees  their 
ancient  customs  and  mode  of  government,  and  to  despoil 
them  of  the  inheritance  of  their  fathers.*  ^*  And  yet,"  he 
continued,  addressing  Allan,  ^^it  is  for  the  purpose  of  giving 

*  See  Colonization  of  Lewis.    Note  2, 
221 


^22  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lespotic  anthority  to  the  monarch  by  whom  these  designs 
have  been  nursed  that  so  many  Highland  Chiefs  are  upon  the 
point  of  quarrelling  with,  and  drawing  the  sword  against, 
their  neighbors,  allies,  and  ancient  confederates/* 

**  It  is  to  my  brother,'' said  Allan — ''  it  is  to  the  eldest  son  of 
my  father's  house,  that  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  must  address 
these  remonstrances.  I  am,  indeed,  the  brother  of  Angus ; 
but  in  being  so  I  am  only  the  first  of  his  clansmen,  and  bound 
to  show  an  example  to  the  others  by  my  cheerful  and  ready 
obedience  to  his  commands/' 

"The  cause  also,"  said  Lord  Menteith,  interposing,  "  is  far 
more  general  than  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  seems  to  suppose  it. 
It  is  neither  limited  to  Saxon  nor  to  Gael,  to  mountain  nor  to 
strath,  to  Highlands  nor  to  Lowlands.  The  question  is,  if 
we  will  continue  to  be  governed  by  the  unlimited  authority 
assumed  by  a  set  of  persons  in  no  respect  superior  to  ourselves, 
instead  of  returning  to  the  natural  government  of  the  prince 
against  whom  they  have  rebelled.  And  respecting  the  inter- 
est of  the  Highlands  in  particular,"  he  added,  "  I  crave  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell's  pardon  for  my  plainness  ;  but  it  seems  very 
clear  to  me  that  the  only  effect  produced  by  the  present  usur- 
pation will  be  the  aggrandizement  of  one  overgrown  clan  at 
the  expense  of  every  independent  chief  in  the  Highlands." 

'*  I  will  not  reply  to  you,  my  lord,"  said  Sir  Duncan 
Campbell,  "because  I  know  your  prejudices,  and  from  whom 
they  are  borrowed  ;  yet  you  will  pardon  my  saying  that,  being 
at  the  head  of  a  rival  branch  of  the  house  of  Graham,  I  have 
both  read  of  and  known  an  Earl  of  Menteith  who  would  have 
disdained  to  have  been  tutored  in  politics  or  to  have  been  com- 
manded in  war  by  an  Earl  of  Montrose." 

"  You  will  find  it  in  vain.  Sir  Duncan,"  said  Lord  Men- 
teith, haughtily,  "to  set  my  vanity  in  arms  against  my  prin- 
ciples. The  King  gave  my  ancestors  their  title  and  rank  ; 
and  these  shall  never  prevent  my  acting,  in  the  royal  cause, 
under  any  one  who  is  better  qualified  than  myself  to  be  a  com- 
mander-in-chief. Least  of  all  shall  any  miserable  jealousy 
prevent  me  from  placing  my  hand  and  sword  under  the  guid- 
ance of  the  bravest,  the  most  loyal,  the  most  heroic  spirit 
among  our  Scottish  nobility." 

"  Pity,"  said  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  "that  you  cannot  add 
to  his  panegyric  the  farther  epithets  of  the  most  steady  and 
the  most  consistent.  But  I  have  no  purpose  of  debating  these 
points  with  you,  my  lord,"  waving  his  hand,  as  if  to  avoid 
farther  discussion  ;  "  the  die  is  cast  with  you  ;  allow  me  only 
to  express  my  sorrow  for  the  disastrous  fate  to  which  Angus 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  223 

M'Anlay^s  natural  rashness  and  your  lordship's  influence  are 
dragging  my  gallant  friend  Allan  here,  with  his  father's  clan 
and  many  a  brave  man  besides." 

'^  The  die  is  cast  for  us  all.  Sir  Duncan,"  replied  Allan, 
looking  gloomy,  and  arguing  on  his  own  hypochondriac  feel- 
ings ;  "the  iron  hand  of  destiny  branded  our  fate  upon  our 
forehead  long  ere  we  could  form  a  wish  or  raise  a  finger  in 
our  own  behalf.  Were  this  otherwise,  by  what  means  does 
the  seer  ascertain  the  future  from  those  shadowy  presages 
which  haunt  his  waking  and  his  sleeping  eye  ?  Naught  can 
be  foreseen  but  that  which  is  certain  to  happen." 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  was  about  to  reply,  and  the  darkest 
and  most  contested  point  of  metaphysics  might  have  been 
brought  into  discussion  betwixt  two  Highland  disputants, 
when  the  door  opened  and  Annot  Lyle,  with  her  clairshach 
in  her  hand,  entered  the  apartment.  The  freedom  of  a 
Highland  maiden  was  in  her  step  and  in  her  eye  ;  for,  bred 
up  in  the  closest  intimacy  with  the  Laird  of  M'Aulay  and 
his  brother,  with  Lord  Menteith  and  other  young  men  who 
frequented  Darnlinvarach,  she  possessed  none  of  that  timidity 
which  a  female  educated  chiefly  among  her  own  sex  would 
either  have  felt  or  thought  necessary  to  assume  on  an  occasion 
kke  the  present. 

Her  dress  partook  of  the  antique,  for  new  fashions  seldom 
penetrated  into  the  Highlands,  nor  would  they  easily  have 
found  their  way  to  a  castle  inhabited  chiefly  by  men  whose 
sole  occupation  was  war  and  the  chase.  Yet  Annot's  gar- 
ments were  not  only  becoming  but  even  rich.  Her  open 
jacket,  with  a  high  collar,  was  composed  of  blue  cloth,  richly 
embroidered,  and  had  silver  clasps  to  fasten  when  it  pleased 
the  wearer.  Its  sleeves,  which  were  wide,  came  no  lower 
than  the  elbow,  and  terminated  in  a  golden  fringe ;  under 
this  upper  coat,  if  it  can  be  so  termed,  she  wore  an  under 
dress  of  blue  satin,  also  richly  embroidered,  but  which  was 
several  shades  lighter  in  color  than  the  upper  garment.  The 
petticoat  was  formed  of  tartan  silk,  in  the  sett  or  pattern  of 
which  the  color  of  blue  greatly  predominated,  so  as  to  remove 
the  tawdry  effect  too  frequently  produced  in  tartan  by  the 
mixture  and  strong  opposition  of  colors.  An  antique  silver 
chain  hung  round  her  neck  and  supported  the  "  wrest "  or 
key  with  which  she  tuned  her  instrument.  A  small  ruff 
rose  above  her  collar  and  was  secured  by  a  brooch  of  some 
value,  an  old  keepsake  from  Lord  Menteith.  Her  profusion 
of  light  hair  almost  hid  her  laughing  eyes,  while,  with  a  smile 
and  a  blush,  she  mentioned  that  she  had  M'Aulay's  directions 


234  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  ask  them  if  they  chose  music.  Sir  Duncan  Campbell 
gazed  with  considerable  surprise  and  interest  at  the  lovely 
)arition   which  thus    interrupted  his   debate  with  Allan 


**  Can  this/'  he  said  to  him  in  a  whisper,  "  a  creature  so 
beautiful  and  so  elegant,  be  a  domestic  musician  of  your 
brother's  establishment  ? '' 

*^By  no  means,''  answered  Allan,  hastily,  yet  with  some 
hesitation;  *'she  is  a — a — near  relation  of  our  family,  and 
treated,"  he  added,  more  firmly,  ''^as  an  adopted  daughter  of 
our  father's  house." 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  arose  from  his  seat,  and,  with  that 
air  of  courtesy  which  every  Highlander  can  assume  when  it 
suits  him  to  practise  it,  he  resigned  it  to  Annot,  and  offered 
to  her  at  the  same  time  whatever  refreshments  the  table  af- 
forded, with  an  assiduity  which  was  probably  designed  to  give 
Sir  Duncan  an  impression  of  her  rank  and  consequence.  If 
such  was  Allan's  purpose,  however,  it  was  unnecessary.  Sir 
Duncan  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  Annot  with  an  expression 
of  much  deeper  interest  than  could  have  arisen  from  any  im- 
pression that  she  was  a  person  of  consequence.  Annot  even 
felt  embarrassed  under  the  old  knight's  steady  gaze  ;  and  it 
was  not  without  considerable  hesitation  that,  tuning  her  in- 
strument, and  receiving  an  assenting  look  from  Lord  Men- 
teith  and  Allan,  she  executed  the  following  ballad,  which  our 
friend,  Mr.  Secundus  Macpherson,  whose  goodness  we  had 
before  to  acknowledge,  has  thus  translated  into  the  English 
tongue : * 

XLbc  ^cpban  ASaiD 

November's  hail-cloud  drifts  away, 

November's  sunbeam  wan 
Looks  coldly  on  the  castle  gray, 

When  forth  comes  Lady  Anne. 

The  orphan  by  the  oak  was  set, 

Her  arms,  her  feet,  were  bare ; 
The  hail-drops  had  not  melted  yet. 

Amid  her  raven  hair. 

"  And,  Dame,"  she  said,  **  by  all  the  ties 
That  child  and  mother  know, 
Aid  one  who  never  knew  these  joys, 
Relieve  an  orphan's  woe." 

The  lady  said,  "  An  orphan's  state 

Is  hard  and  sad  to  bear  ; 
Yet  worse  the  widow'd  mother's  fate, 

Who  mourns  both  lord  and  heir. 

*  See  Literal  Prose  Translation.    Note  8. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  225 

'*  Twelve  times  the  rolling  year  has  sped, 
Since,  when  from  vengeance  wild 
Of  fierce  Strathallan's  Chief  I  fled  ; 
Forth's  eddies  whelm'd  my  child." 

'*  Twelve  times  the  year  its  course  has  bom," 

The  wandering  maid  replied, 
*'  Since  fishers  on  St.  Bridget's  mom 

Drew  nets  on  Campsie  side. 

*'  St.  Bridget  sent  no  scaly  spoil  : 
An  infant,  well-nigh  dead. 
They  saved,  and  rear'd  in  want  and  toil, 
To  beg  from  you  her  bread." 

That  orphan  maid  the  lady  kiss'd — 
' '  My  husband's  looks  you  bear ; 
St.  Bridget  and  her  morn  be  bless'd  I 
You  are  his  widow's  heir." 

They've  robed  that  maid,  so  poor  and  pale. 

In  silk  and  sandals  rare  ; 
And  pearls,  for  drops  of  frozen  hail, 

Are  glistening  in  her  hair. 

While  the  song  proceeded.  Lord  Menteith  observed  with 
some  surprise  that  it  appeared  to  produce  a  much  deeper 
effect  upon  the  mind  of  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  than  he  could 
possibly  have  anticipated  from  his  age  and  character.  He 
well  knew  that  the  Highlanders  of  that  period  possessed  a 
much  greater  sensibility  both  for  tale  and  song  than  was 
found  among  their  Lowland  neighbors  ;  but  even  this,  he 
thought,  hardly  accounted  for  the  embarrassment  with  which 
the  old  man  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  songstress,  as  if  un- 
willing to  suffer  them  to  rest  on  an  object  so  interesting.  Still 
less  was  it  to  be  expected  that  features  which  expressed  pride, 
stern  common  sense,  and  the  austere  habit  of  authority  should 
have  been  so  much  agitated  by  so  trivial  a  circumstance.  As 
the  Chiefs  broAV  became  clouded,  he  drooped  his  large  shaggy- 
gray  eyebrows  until  they  almost  concealed  his  eyes,  on  the  lids 
of  which  something  like  a  tear  might  be  seen  to  glisten.  He 
remained  silent  and  fixed  in  the  same  posture  for  a  minute  or 
two  after  the  last  note  had  ceased  to  vibrate.  He  then  raised 
his  head,  and,  having  looked  at  Annot  Lyle,  as  if  purposing  to 
speak  to  her,  he  as  suddenly  changed  that  purpose,  and  was 
about  to  address  Allan,  when  the  door  opened  and  the  lord  of 
the  castle  made  his  appearance. 


CHAPTEE  X 

Dark  on  their  journey  lour'd  the  gloomy  day, 
Wild  were  the  hills,  and  doubtful  grew  the  way ; 
More  dark,  more  gloomy,  and  more  doubtful  show'd 
The  mansion  which  received  them  from  the  road. 

The  Travellers,  a  Romance. 

Angus  M'Aulay  was  charged  with  a  message  which  he 
seemed  to  find  some  difficulty  in  communicating ;  for  it  was 
not  till  after  he  had  framed  his  speech  several  different  ways, 
and  blundered  them  all,  that  he  succeeded  in  letting  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell  know  that  the  cavalier  who  was  to  accom- 
pany him  was  waiting  in  readiness,  and  that  all  was  prepared 
for  his  return  to  Inverary.  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  rose  up 
very  indignantly  ;  the  affront  which  this  message  implied  im- 
mediately driving  out  of  his  recollection  the  sensibility  which 
had  been  awakened  by  the  music. 

'^  I  little  expected  this,"  he  said,  looking  indignantly  at 
Angus  M'Aulay.  '^  I  little  thought  that  there  was  a  Chief  in 
the  West  Highlands  who,  at  the  pleasure  of  a  Saxon,  would 
have  bid  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  leave  his  castle  when  the 
sun  was  declining  from  the  meridian,  and  ere  the  second  cup 
had  been  filled.  But  farewell,  sir,  the  food  of  a  churl  does 
not  satisfy  the  appetite  ;  when  I  next  revisit  Darnlinvarach 
it  shall  be  with  a  naked  sword  in  one  hand  and  a  firebrand  in 
the  other." 

'^  And  if  you  so  come,"  said  Angus,  ^^I  pledge  myself  to 
meet  you  fairly,  though  you  brought  five  hundred  Campbells 
at  your  back,  and  to  afford  you  and  them  such  entertainment 
that  you  shall  not  again  complain  of  the  hospitality  of 
Darnlinvarach." 

''  Threatened  men,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  ^'  live  long.  Your 
turn  for  gasconading.  Laird  of  M'Aulay,  is  too  well  known 
that  men  of  honor  should  regard  your  vaunts.  To  you,  my 
lord,  and  to  Allan,  who  have  supplied  the  place  of  my  churl- 
ish host,  I  leave  my  thanks.  And  to  you,  pretty  mistress," 
he  said,  addressing  Annot  Lyle,  ''  this  little  token,  for  having 
opened  a  fountain  which  hath  been  dry  for  many  a  year."  So 
saying,  he  left  the  apartment,  and  commanded  his  attendants 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  227 

to  be  summoned.  Angus  M'Aulay,  equally  embarrassed  and 
incensed  at  the  charge  of  inhospitality,  which  was  the  great- 
est possible  affront  to  a  Highlander,  did  not  follow  Sir  Dun- 
can to  the  courtyard,  where,  mounting  his  palfrey,  which 
was  in  readiness,  followed  by  six  mounted  attendants,  and  ac- 
companied by  the  noble  Captain  Dalgetty,  who  had  also 
awaited  him,  holding  Gustavus  ready  for  action,  though  he 
did  not  draw  his  girths  and  mount  till  Sir  Duncan  appeared, 
the  whole  cavalcade  left  the  castle. 

The  journey  was  long  and  toilsome,  but  without  any  of 
the  extreme  privations  which  the  Laird  of  M'Aulay  had 
prophesied.  In  truth,  Sir  Duncan  was  very  cautious  to  avoid 
those  nearer  and  more  secret  paths  by  means  of  which  the 
county  of  Argyle  was  accessible  from  the  eastward  ;  for  his  re- 
lation and  chief,  the  Marquis,  was  used  to  boast  that  he  would 
not  for  a  liundred  thousand  crowns  any  mortal  should  know 
the  passes  by  which  an  armed  force  could  penetrate  into  his 
country. 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  therefore,  rather  shunned  the  High- 
lands, and,  falling  into  the  Low  Country,  made  for  the  nearest 
seaport  in  the  vicinity,  where  he  had  several  half-decked  gal- 
leys, or  birlings,  as  they  were  called,  at  his  command.  In  one 
of  these  they  embarked,  with  Gustavus  in  company,  who  was 
so  seasoned  to  adventure  that  land  and  sea  seemed  as  indiffer- 
ent to  him  as  to  his  master. 

The  wind  being  favorable,  they  pursued  their  way  rapidly 
with  sails  and  oars ;  and  early  the  next  morning  it  was  an- 
nounced to  Captain  Dalgetty,  then  in  a  small  cabin  beneath 
the  half -deck,  that  the  galley  was  under  the  walls  of  Sir  Dun- 
can CampbelFs  castle. 

Ardenvohr,  accordingly,  rose  high  above  him  when  he 
came  upon  the  deck  of  the  galley.  It  was  a  gloomy  square 
tower,  of  considerable  size  and  great  height,  situated  upon  a 
headland  projecting  into  the  salt-water  lake,  or  arm  of  the 
sea,  which  they  had  entered  on  the  preceding  evening.  A 
wall,  with  flanking  towers  at  each  angle,  surrounded  the  castle 
to  landward ;  but  towards  the  lake  it  was  built  so  near  the 
brink  of  the  precipice  as  only  to  leave  room  for  a  battery  of 
seven  guns,  designed  to  protect  the  fortress  from  any  insult 
from  that  side,  although  situated  too  high  to  be  of  any  effect- 
ual use  according  to  the  modern  system  of  warfare. 

The  eastern  sun,  rising  behind  the  old  tower,  flung  its 
shadow  far  on  the  lake,  darkening  the  deck  of  the  galley,  on 
which  Captain  Dalgetty  now  walked,  waiting  with  some  im- 
patience the  signal  to  land.     Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  as  he  was 


228  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

informed  by  his  attendants,  was  already  within  the  walls  of 
the  castle  ;  but  no  one  encouraged  the  Captain's  proposal  of 
following  him  ashore,  until,  as  they  stated,  they  should  re- 
ceive the  direct  permission  or  order  of  the  Knight  of  Arden- 
vohr. 

In  a  short  time  afterwards  the  mandate  arrived,  while  a 
boat,  with  a  piper  in  the  bow,  bearing  the  Knight  of  Arden- 
vohr's  crest  in  silver  upon  his  left  arm,  and  playing  with  all 
his  might  the  family  march,  entitled  '^  The  Campbells  are 
Coming,'*  approached  to  conduct  the  envoy  of  Montrose  to 
the  castle  of  Ardenvohr.  The  distance  between  the  galley 
and  the  beach  was  so  short  as  scarce  to  require  the  assistance 
of  the  eight  sturdy  rowers,  in  bonnets,  short  coats,  and  trews, 
whose  efforts  sent  the  boat  to  the  little  creek  in  which  they 
usually  landed  before  one  could  have  conceived  that  it  had 
left  the  side  of  the  birling.  Two  of  the  boatmen,  in  spite  of 
Dalgetty's  resistance,  horsed  the  Captain  on  the  back  of  a 
thir4  Highlander,  and,  wading  through  the  surf  with  him, 
landed  him  high  and  dry  upon  the  beach  beneath  the  castle 
rock.  In  the  face  of  this  rock  there  appeared  something  like 
the  entrance  of  a  low-browed  cavern,  towards  which  the  assist- 
ants were  preparing  to  hurry  our  friend  Dalgetty,  when, 
shaking  himself  loose  from  them  with  some  difficulty,  he 
insisted  upon  seeing  Gustavus  safely  landed  before  he  pro- 
ceeded one  step  farther.  The  Highlanders  could  not  com- 
prehend what  he  meant,  until  one  who  had  picked  up  a  little 
Baglish,  or  rather  Lowland  Scotch,  exclaimed,  "Houts  !  it's 
a'  about  her  horse,  ta  useless  baste."  Farther  remonstrance 
on  the  part  of  Captain  Dalgetty  was  interrupted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  himself,  from  the  mouth 
of  the  cavern  which  we  have  described,  for  the  purpose  of 
inviting  Captain  Dalgetty  to  accept  of  the  hospitality  of 
Ardenvohr,  pledging  his  honor,  at  the  same  time,  that  Gus- 
t.ivus  should  be  treated  as  became  the  hero  from  whom  he 
derived  his  name,  not  to  mention  the  important  person  to 
whom  he  now  belonged.  Notwithstanding  this  satisfactory 
guarantee.  Captain  Dalgetty  would  still  have  hesitated,  such 
was  his  anxiety  to  witness  the  fate  of  his  companion  Gustavus, 
had  not  two  Highlanders  seized  him  by  the  arms,  two  more 
pushed  him  on  behind,  while  a  fifth  exclaimed,  *'  Hout  awa 
wi'  the  daft  Sassenach  !  does  she  no  hear  the  Laird  bidding 
her  up  to  her  ain  castle,  wi'  her  special  voice,  and  isna  that 
very  mickle  honor  for  the  like  o'  her  ?  " 

Thus  impelled,  Captain  Dalgetty  could  only  for  a  short 
space  keep  a  reverted  eye  towards  the  galley  in  which  he  had 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  229 

left  the  partner  of  his  military  toils.  In  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards he  found  himself  involved  in  the  total  darkness  of  a 
staircase  which,  entering  from  the  low-browed  cavern  we  have 
mentioned,  winded  upwards  through  the  entrails  of  the  living 
rock. 

''The  cursed  Highland  savages  !"  muttered  the  Captain, 
half  aloud ;  "  what  is  to  become  of  me  if  Gustavus,  the  name- 
sake of  the  invincible  Lion  of  the  Protestant  League,  should 
be  lamed  among  their  untenty  hands  I"^ 

*'Have  no  fear  of  that/^  said  the  voice  of  Sir  Duncan, 
who  was  nearer  to  him  than  he  imagined  ;  ''my  men  are  ac- 
customed to  handle  horses,  both  in  embarking  and  dressing 
them,  and  you  will  soon  see  Gustavus  as  safe  as  when  you 
last  dismounted  from  his  back." 

Captain  Dalgetty  knew  the  world  too  well  to  offer  any 
farther  remonstrance,  whatever  uneasiness  he  might  suppress 
within  his  own  bosom.  A  step  or  two  higher  up  the  stair 
showed  light  and  a  door,  and  an  iron-grated  wicket  led  him 
out  upon  a  gallery  cut  in  the  open  face  of  the  rock,  extending 
a  space  of  about  six  or  eight  yards,  until  he  reached  a  second 
door,  where  the  path  re-entered  the  rock,  and  which  was  also 
defended  by  an  iron  portcullis.  "An  admirable  traverse," 
observed  the  Captain  ;  "and  if  commanded  by  a  field-piece, 
or  even  a  few  muskets,  quite  sufficient  to  insure  the  place 
against  a  storming  party. 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  made  no  answer  at  the  time ;  but, 
the  moment  afterwards,  when  they  had  entered  the  second 
cavern,  he  struck  with  the  stick  which  he  had  in  his  hand 
first  on  the  one  side  and  then  on  the  other  of  the  wicket,  and 
the  sullen  ringing  sound  which  replied  to  the  blows  made 
Captain  Dalgetty  sensible  that  there  was  a  gun  placed  on 
each  side,  for  the  purpose  of  raking  the  gallery  through 
which  they  had  passed,  although  the  embrasures,  through 
which  they  might  be  fired  on  occasion,  were  masked  on  the 
outside  with  sods  and  loose  stones.  Having  ascended  the 
second  staircase,  they  found  themselves  again  on  an  open 
platform  and  gallery,  exposed  to  a  fire  both  of  musketry  and 
wall-guns,  if,  being  come  with  hostile  intent,  they  had  ven- 
tured farther.  A  third  flight  of  steps,  cut  in  the  rock  like 
the  former,  but  not  caverned  over,  led  them  finally  into  the 
battery  at  the  foot  of  the  tower.  This  last  stair  also  was 
narrow  and  steep,  and,  not  to  mention  the  fire  which  might 
be  directed  on  it  from  above,  one  or  two  resolute  men,  with 
pikes  and  battle-axes,  could  have  made  the  pass  good  against 
hundreds;   for  the  staircase  would  not  admit  two  persons 


230  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

abreast,  and  was  not  secured  by  any  sort  of  balustrade  or 
railing  from  the  sheer  and  abrupt  precipice,  on  the  foot  of 
which  the  tide  now  rolled  with  a  voice  of  thunder.  So 
that,  under  the  jealous  precautions  used  to  secure  this  an- 
cient Celtic  fortress,  a  person  of  weak  nerves  and  a  brain  lia- 
ble to  become  dizzy  might  have  found  it  something  difficult 
to  have  achieved  the  entrance  to  the  castle  even  supposing  no 
resistance  had  been  offered. 

Captain  Dalgetty,  too  old  a  soldier  to  feel  such  tremors, 
had  no  sooner  arrived  in  the  courtyard  than  he  protested  to  God 
the  defences  of  Sir  Duncan^s  castle  reminded  him  more  of 
the  notable  fortress  of  Spandau,  situated  in  the  March  of 
Brandenburg,  than  of  any  place  whilk  it  had  been  his  fortune 
to  defend  in  the  course  of  his  travels.  Nevertheless,  he 
criticised  considerably  the  mode  of  placing  the  guns  on  the 
battery  we  have  noticed,  observing  that,  "where  cannon 
were  perched,  like  to  scarts  or  sea-gulls,  on  the  top  of  a  rock, 
he  had  ever  observed  that  they  astonished  more  by  their 
noise  than  they  dismayed  by  the  skaith  or  damage  which 
they  occasioned/' 

Sir  Duncin,  without  replying,  conducted  the  soldier  into 
the  tower,  the  defences  of  which  were  a  portcullis  and  iron- 
clinched  oaken  door,  the  thickness  of  the  wall  being  the 
space  between  them.  He  had  no  sooner  arrived  in  a  hall 
hung  with  tapestry  than  the  Captain  prosecuted  his  military 
criticism.  It  was  indeed  suspended  by  the  sight  of  an  ex- 
cellent breakfast,  of  which  he  partook  with  great  avidity  ; 
but  no  sooner  had  he  secured  this  meal  than  he  made  the 
tour  of  the  apartment,  examining  the  ground  around  the 
castle  very  carefully  from  each  window  in  the  room.  He 
then  returned  to  his  chair,  and,  throwing  himself  back  into 
it  at  his  length,  stretched  out  one  manly  leg,  and,  tapping 
his  jack-boot  with  the  riding-rod  which  he  carried  in  his 
hand,  after  the  manner  of  a  half-bred  man  who  affects  ease 
in  the  society  of  his  betters,  he  delivered  his  unasked  opinion 
as  follows  :  *'  This  house  of  yours,  now.  Sir  Duncan,  is  a  very 
pretty  defensible  sort  of  a  tenement,  and  yet  it  is  hardly  such 
as  a  cavaliero  of  honor  would  expect  to  maintain  his  credit 
by  holding  out  for  many  days.  For,  Sir  Duncan,  if  it  pleases 
you  to  notice,  your  house  is  overcrowed  and  slighted,  or 
commanded,  as  we  military  men  say,  by  yonder  round  hillock 
to  the  landward,  whereon  an  enemy  might  stell  such  a  bat- 
tery of  cannon  as  would  make  ye  glad  to  beat  a  chamade 
within  forty-eight  hours,  unless  it  pleased  the  Lord  extra- 
ordinarily to  show  mercy.'' 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  231 


<t 


There  is  no  road,"  replied  Sir  Duncan,  somewhat 
shortly,  **  by  which  cannon  can  be  brought  against  Arden- 
vohr.  The  swamps  and  morasses  around  my  house  would 
scarce  carry  your  horse  and  yourself,  excepting  by  such  paths 
as  could  be  rendered  impassable  within  a  few  hours." 

'*  Sir  Duncan,"  said  the  Captain,  ^^  it  is  your  pleasure  to 
suppose  so  ;  and  yet  we  martial  men  say  that  where  there  is 
a  sea-coast  there  is  always  a  naked  side,  seeing  that  cannon 
and  munition,  where  they  cannot  be  transported  by  land, 
may  be  right  easily  brought  by  sea  near  to  the  place  where 
they  are  to  be  put  in  action.  Neither  is  a  castle,  however 
secure  in  its  situation,  to  be  accounted  altogether  invincible, 
or,  as  they  say,  impregnable  ;  for  I  protest  t'ye.  Sir  Duncan, 
that  I  have  known  twenty-five  men,  by  the  mere  surprise  and 
audacity  of  the  attack,  win,  at  point  of  pike,  as  strong  a  hold 
as  this  of  Ardenvohr,  and  put  to  the  sword,  captivate,  or  hold 
to  the  ransom  the  defenders,  being  ten  times  their  own 
number." 

Notwithstanding  Sir  Duncan  Campbell's  knowledge  of  the 
world,  and  his  power  of  concealing  his  internal  emotion,  he 
appeared  piqued  and  hurt  at  these  reflections,  which  the 
Captain  made  with  the  most  unconscious  gravity,  having 
merely  selected  the  subject  of  conversation  as  one  upon  which 
he  thought  himself  capable  of  shining,  and,  as  they  say,  of 
laying  down  the  law,  without  exactly  recollecting  that  the 
topic  might  not  be  equally  agreeable  to  his  landlord. 

*'To  cut  this  matter  sliort,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  voice  and  countenance  somewhat  agitated,  "it  is 
unnecessary  for  you  to  tell  me.  Captain  Dalgetty,  that  a  castle 
may  be  stormed  if  it  is  not  valorously  defended,  or  surprised 
if  it  is  not  heedfully  watched.  I  trust  this  poor  house  of 
mine  will  not  be  found  in  any  of  these  predicaments,  should 
even  Captain  Dalgetty  himself  choose  to  beleaguer  it." 

"  For  all  that,  Sir  Duncan,"  answered  the  persevering 
commander,  "I  would  premonish  you,  as  a  friend,  to  trace 
out  a  sconce  upon  that  round  hill,  with  a  good  graffe  or 
ditch,  whilk  may  be  easily  accomplished  by  compelling  the 
labor  of  the  boors  in  the  vicinity ;  it  being  the  custom  of  the 
valorous  Gustavus  Adolphus  to  fight  as  much  by  the  spade 
and  shovel  as  by  sword,  pike,  and  musket.  Also,  I  would 
advise  you  to  fortify  the  said  sconce,  not  only  by  a  foussee  or 
graffe,  but  also  by  certain  stackets  or  palisades."  Here  Sir 
Duncan,  becoming  impatient,  left  the  apartment,  the  Captain 
following  him  t©  the  door,  and  raising  his  voice  as  he  retreated, 
until  he  was  fairly  out  of  hearing.     '^  The  whilk  stackets  or 


233  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

palisades  should  be  artificially  framed  with  re-entering  angles 
and  loopholes,  or  crenelles,  for  musketry,  whereof  it  shall  arise 

that  the  foemen The  Highland  brute  !  the  old  Highland 

brute  !  They  are  as  proud  as  peacocks,  and  as  obstinate  as 
tups ;  and  here  he  has  missed  an  opportunity  of  making  his 
house  as  pretty  an  irregular  fortification  as  an  invading  army 
ever  broke  their  teeth  upon.  But  I  see,^'  he  continued,  look- 
ing down  from  the  window  upon  the  bottom  of  the  precipice, 
'^  they  have  got  Gustavus  safe  ashore.  Proper  fellow  !  I  would 
know  that  toss  of  his  head  among  a  whole  squadron.  I  must 
go  to  see  what  they  are  to  make  of  him.'^ 

He  had  no  sooner  reached,  however,  the  court  to  the  sea- 
ward, and  put  himself  in  the  act  of  descending  the  staircase 
than  two  Highland  sentinels,  advancing  their  Lochaber  axes 
gave  him  to  understand  that  this  was  a  service  of  danger. 

"Diavolo!^^  said  the  soldier,  '^and  I  have  got  no  pass 
word.  I  could  not  speak  a  syllable  of  their  savage  gibberish 
an  it  were  to  save  me  from  the  provost-marshal. " 

"I  will  be  your  surety.  Captain  Dalgetty,^'  said  Sir  Dun 
can,  who  had  again  approached  him  without  his  observing 
from  whence;  ''and  we  will  go  together  and  see  how  your 
favorite  charger  is  accommodated." 

He  conducted  him  accordingly  down  the  staircase  to  the 
beach,  and  from  thence  by  a  short  turn  behind  a  large  rock 
which  concealed  the  stables  and  other  offices  belonging  to  the 
castle.  Captain  Dalgetty  became  sensible,  at  the  same  time, 
that  the  side  of  the  castle  to  the  land  was  rendered  totally 
inaccessible  by  a  ravine,  partly  natural  and  partly  scarped 
with  great  care  and  labor,  so  as  to  be  only  passed  by  a  draw- 
bridge. Still,  however,  the  Captain  insisted,  notwithstand- 
ing the  triumphant  air  with  which  Sir  Duncan  pointed  out 
his  defences,  that  a  sconce  should  be  erected  on  Drumsnab, 
the  round  eminence  to  the  east  of  the  castle,  in  respect  the 
house  might  be  annoyed  from  thence  by  burning  bullets  full 
of  fire,  shot  out  of  cannon,  according  to  the  curious  invention 
of  Stephen  Bathian,  King  of  Poland,  whereby  that  prince 
utterly  ruined  the  great  Muscovite  city  of  Moscow.  This 
invention.  Captain  Dalgetty  owned,  he  had  not  yet  witnessed, 
but  observed,  "  that  it  would  give  him  particular  delectation 
to  witness  the  same  put  to  the  proof  against  Ardenvohr  or 
any  other  castle  of  similar  strength,"  observing,  "  that  so 
curious  an  experiment  could  not  but  afford  the  greatest  de- 
light to  all  admirers  of  the  military  art." 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  diverted  this  conversation  by  carry- 
ing the  soldier  into  his  stables,  and  suffering  him  to  arrange 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  233 

Gustavus  according  to  his  own  will  and  pleasure.  After  this 
duty  had  been  carefully  performed.  Captain  Dalgetty  pro- 
posed to  return  to  the  castle,  observing,  it-  was  his  intention 
to  spend  the  time  betwixt  this  and  dinner,  which,  he  pre- 
sumed, would  come  upon  the  parade  about  noon,  in  burnish- 
ing his  armor,  which,  having  sustained  some  injury  from  the 
sea-air,  might,  he  was  afraid,  seem  discreditable  in  the  eyes 
of  M'Callum  More.  Yet,  while  they  were  returning  to  the 
castle,  he  failed  not  to  warn  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  against 
the  great  injury  he  might  sustain  by  any  sudden  onfall  of  an 
enemy,  whereby  his  horses,  cattle,  and  granaries  might  be  cut 
off  and  consumed,  to  his  great  prejudice  ;  wherefore  he  again 
strongly  conjured  him  to  construct  a  sconce  upon  the  round 
hill  called  Driimsnab,  and  offered  his  own  friendly  services  in 
lining  out  the  same.  To  this  disinterested  advice  Sir  Duncan 
only  replied  by  ushering  his  guest  to  his  apartment,  and  in- 
forming him  that  the  tolling  of  the  castle  bell  would  make 
him  aware  when  dinner  was  ready. 


<.r^r^ 


CHAPTER  XI 

Is  this  thy  castle,  Baldwin?    Melancholy- 
Displays  her  sable  banner  from  the  donjon, 
Darkening  the  foam  of  the  whole  surge  beneatk. 
Were  I  a  habitant,  to  see  this  gloom 
Pollute  the  face  of  nature,  and  to  hear 
The  ceaseless  sound  of  wave,  and  seabird's  scream, 
I'd  wish  mfe  in  the  hut  that  poorest  peasant 
E'er  framed  to  give  him  temporary  shelter. 

Brown. 

The  gallant  Rittmaster  would  willingly  have  employed  his 
leisure  in  studying  the  exterior  of  Sir  Duncan's  castle,  and 
verifying  his  own  military  ideas  upon  the  nature  of  its  de- 
fences ;  but  a  stout  sentinel,  who  mounted  guard  with  a 
Lochaber  axe  at  the  door  of  his  apartment,  gave  him  to 
understand,  by  very  significant  signs,  that  he  was  in  a  sort  of 
honorable  captivity. 

''It  is  strange, ''^  thought  the  Rittmaster  to  himself, 
''how  well  t'^ese  savages  understand  the  rules  and  practice 
of  war.  W'K^o  would  have  presupposed  their  acquaintance 
with  the  maxim  of  the  great  and  godlike  Gustavus  Adolphus, 
that  a  flag  of  truce  should  be  half  a  messenger,  half  a  spy  ?" 
And,  having  finished  burnishing  his  arms,  he  sat  down 
patiently  to  compute  how  much  half  a  dollar  per  diem  would 
amount  to  at  the  end  of  a  six  months'  campaign  ;  and,  when 
he  had  settled  that  problem,  proceeded  to  the  more  abstruse 
calculations  necessary  for  drawing  up  a  brigade  of  two  thou- 
sand men  on  the  principle  of  extracting  the  square  root. 

From  his  musings  he  was  roused  by  the  joyful  sound  of 
the  dinner  bell,  on  which  the  Highlander,  lately  his  guard, 
became  his  gentleman-usher,  and  marshalled  him  to  the  hall, 
where  a  table  with  four  covers  bore  ample  proofs  of  Highland 
hospitality.  Sir  Duncan  entered,  conductmg  his  lady,  a  tall, 
faded,  melancholy  female,  dressed  in  deep  mourning.  They 
were  followed  by  a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  in  his  Geneva 
cloak,  and  wearing  a  black  silk  skull-cap,  covering  his  short 
hair  so  closely  that  it  could  scarce  be  seen  at  all,  so  that  the 
unrestricted  ears  had  an  undue  predominance  in  the  general 
aspect.     This  ungraceful  fashion  was  universal  at  the  time. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  2» 

aud  partly  led  to  the  nicknames  of  roundheads,  prick-eared 
curs,  and  to  forth,  which  the  insolence  of  the  Cavaliers  lib- 
erally bestowed  on  their  political  enemies. 

Sir  Duncan  presented  his  military  guest  to  his  lady,  who 
received  his  technical  salutation  with  a  stiff  and  silent  rever- 
ence, in  which  it  could  scarce  be  judged  whether  pride  or 
melancholy  had  the  greater  share.  The  churchman,  to  whom 
he  was  next  presented,  eyed  him  with  a  glance  of  mingled 
dislike  and  curiosity. 

The  Captain,  well  accustomed  to  worse  looks  from  more 
dangerous  persons,  cared  very  little  either  for  those  of  the  lady 
or  of  the  divine,  but  bent  his  whole  soul  upon  assaulting  a 
huge  piece  of  beef  which  smoked  at  the  nether  end  of  the 
table.  But  the  onslaught,  as  he  would  have  termed  it,  was 
delayed  until  the  conclusion  of  a  very  long  grace,  betwixt 
every  section  of  which  Dalgetty  handled  his  knife  and  fork, 
as  he  might  have  done  his  musket  or  pike  when  going  upon 
action,  and  as  often  resigned  them  unwillingly  when  the  pro- 
lix chaplain  commenced  another  clause  of  his  benediction. 
Sir  Duncan  listened  with  decency,  though  he  was  supposed 
rather  to  have  joined  the  Covenanters  out  of  devotion  to  hia 
chief  than  real  respect  for  the  cause  either  of  liberty  or  of 
Presbytery.  His  lady  alone  attended  to  the  blessing  with 
symptoms  of  deep  acquiescence. 

The  meal  was  performed  almost  in  Carthusian  silence ; 
for  it  was  none  of  Captain  Dalgetty^s  habits  to  employ  his 
mouth  in  talking  while  it  could  be  more  profitably  occupied. 
Sir  Duncan  was  absolutely  silent,  and  the  lady  and  church- 
man only  occasionally  exchanged  a  few  words,  spoken  low 
and  indistinctly. 

But,  when  the  dishes  were  removed  and  their  places  sup- 
plied by  liquors  of  various  sorts.  Captain  Dalgetty  no  longer 
had  himself  the  same  weighty  reasons  for  silence,  and  began 
to  tire  of  that  of  the  rest  of  the  company.  He  commenced  a 
new  attack  upon  his  landlord,  upon  the  former  ground. 
"  Touching  that  round  monticle  or  hill  or  eminence  termed 
Drumsnab,  I  would  be  proud  to  hold  some  dialogue  with  you. 
Sir  Duncan,  on  the  nature  of  the  sconce  to  be  there  con- 
structed ;  and  whether  the  angles  thereof  should  be  acute  or 
obtuse,  anent  whilk  I  have  heard  the  great  Velt-Mareschal 
Bannier  hold  a  learned  argument  with  General  Tiefenbach 
during  a  still-stand  of  arms.'' 

"Captain  Dalgetty,''  answered  Sir  Duncan,  very  dryly, 
"  it  is  not  our  Highland  usage  to  debate  military  points  with 
strangers.     This  castle  is  like  to  hold  out  against  a  stronger 


28«  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

enemy  than  any  force  which  the  unfortunate  gentlemen  we 
left  at  Darnlinvarach  are  able  to  bring  against  it.*' 

A  deep  sigh  from  the  lady  accompanied  the  conclusion  of 
her  husband's  speech,  which  seemed  to  remind  her  of  some 
painful  circumstance. 

'*  He  who  gave/'  said  the  clergyman,  addressing  her  in  a 
solemn  tone,  *'hath  taken  away.  May  you,  honorable  lady, 
be  long  enabled  to  say,  '  Blessed  be  His  name  ! ' " 

To  this  exhortation,  which  seemed  intended  for  her  sole 
behoof,  the  lady  answered  by  an  inclination  of  her  head,  more 
humble  than  Captain  Dalgetty  had  yet  observed  her  make. 
Supposing  he  should  now  find  her  in  a  more  conversible 
humor,  he  proceeded  to  accost  her. 

"  It  is  indubitably  very  natural  that  your  ladyship  should 
be  downcast  at  the  mention  of  military  preparations,  whilk  I 
have  observed  to  spread  perturbation  among  women  of  all 
nations  and  almost  all  conditions.  Nevertheless,  Penthesilea, 
in  ancient  times,  and  also  Joan  of  Arc  and  others,  were  of  a 
different  kidney.  And,  as  I  have  learned  while  I  served  the 
Spaniard,  the  Duke  of  Alva  in  former  times  had  the  leaguer- 
lasses  who  followed  his  camp  marshalled  into  tertias,  whilk 
we  call  regiments,  and  officered  and  commanded  by  those  of 
their  own  feminine  gender,  and  regulated  by  a  commander- 
in-chief,  called  in  German  HureweiUer,  or,  as  we  would  say 
vernacularly,  Captain  of  the  Queens.  True  it  is,  they  were 
persons  not  to  be  named  as  parallel  to  your  ladyship,  being 
such  qum  qucBstum  corporihus  faciebant,  as  we  said  of  Jean 
Drochiels  at  Marischal  College  ;  the  same  whom  the  French 
term  courtisanes,  and  we  in  Scottish " 

'^  The  lady  will  spare  you  the  trouble  of  farther  exposition. 
Captain  Dalgetty,"  said  his  host,  somewhat  sternly  ;  to  which 
the  clergyman  added,  ''  that  such  discourse  better  befitted  a 
watch-tower  guarded  by  profane  soldiery  than  the  board  of  an 
honorable  person  and  the  presence  of  a  lady  of  quality." 

"  Craving  your  pardon.  Dominie,  or  Doctor,  aut  quocun- 
que  alio  nomine  gaudes,  for  I  would  have  you  to  know  I  have 
studied  polite  letters,"  said  the  unabashed  envoy,  filling  a 
great  cup  of  wine.  ' '  I  see  no  ground  for  your  reproof,  seeing 
I  did  not  speak  of  those  turpes  personce  as  if  their  occupation 
or  character  was  a  proper  subject  of  conversation  for  this  lady's 
presence,  but  simply  jt?ar  accidens,  as  illustrating  the  matter 
in  hand,  namely,  their  natural  courage  and  audacity,  much 
enhanced,  doubtless,  by  the  desperate  circumstances  of  their 
condition." 

"Captain  Dalgetty,"  said   Sir  Duncan   Campbell,    "to 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  237 

-break  short  this  discourse,  I  must  acquaint  you  that  I  have 
some  business  to  dispatch  to-night,  in  order  to  enable  me  to 
ride  with  you  to-morrow  towards  Inverary  ;  and  therefore " 

'^  To  ride  with  this  person  to-morrow  !"  exclaimed  his 
lady ;  ''  such  cannot  be  your  purpose.  Sir  Duncan,  unless 
you  have  forgotten  that  the  morrow  is  a  sad  anniversary,  and 
dedicated  to  as  sad  a  solemnity/'' 

'^  I  had  not  forgotten,^^  answered  Sir  Duncan  ;  "  how  is  it 
possible  I  can  ever  forget :  but  the  necessity  of  the  times  re- 
quires I  should  send  this  officer  onward  to  Inverary  without 
loss  of  time." 

"  Yet  surely  not  that  you  should  accompany  him  in  per- 
son ?  "  inquired  the  lady. 

'^It  were  better  I  did,"  said  Sir  Duncan;  ''^  yet  I  can 
write  to  the  Marquis,  and  follow  on  the  subsequent  day. 
Captain  Dalgetty,  I  will  dispatch  a  letter  for  you,  explaining 
to  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  your  character  and  commission, 
with  which  you  will  please  to  prepare  to  travel  to  Inverary 
early  to-morrow  morning." 

'^  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,"  said  Dalgetty,  **I  am  doubtless 
at  your  discretionary  disposal  in  this  matter ;  not  the  less,  I 
pray  you  to  remember  the  blot  which  will  fall  upon  your  own 
escutcheon  if  you  do  in  any  way  suffer  me,  being  a  commis- 
sionate  flag  of  truce,  to  be  circumvented  in  this  matter,  whether 
clam,  vi,  vel  precario  ;  I  do  not  say  by  your  assent  to  any 
wrong  done  to  me,  but  even  through  absence  of  any  due  care 
on  your  part  to  prevent  the  same." 

*^  You  are  under  the  safeguard  of  my  honor,  sir,"  answered 
Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  '^  and  that  is  more  than  a  sufficient 
security.  And  now,"  continued  he,  rising,  "I  must  set  the 
example  of  retiring." 

Dalgetty  saw  himself  under  the  necessity  of  following  the 
hint,  though  the  hour  was  early ;  but,  like  a  skilful  general, 
he  availed  himself  of  every  instant  of  delay  which  circum- 
stances permitted.  ^^  Trusting  to  your  honorable  parole," 
said  he,  filling  his  cup,  "  I  drink  to  you.  Sir  Duncan,  and  to 
the  continuance  of  your  honorable  house."  A  sigh  from  Sir 
Duncan  was  the  only  reply.  "  Also,  madam,"  said  the  sol- 
dier, replenishing  the  quaigh  with  all  possible  dispatch,  '^I 
drink  to  your  honorable  health,  and  fulfilment  of  all  your  vir- 
tuous desires;  and,  reverend  sir  [not  forgetting  to  fit  the 
action  to  the  words],  I  fill  this  cup  to  the  drowning  of  all 
unkindness  betwixt  you  and  Captain  Dalgetty — I  should  say 
Major ;  and,  in  respect  the  flagon  contains  but  one  cup  more, 
I  drink  to  the  health  of  all  honorable  cavaliers  and  brave  sol- 


238  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

dados  ;  and,  the  flask  being  empty,  I  am  ready,  Sir  Duncan^ 
to  attend  your  functionary  or  sentinel  to  my  place  of  private 
repose." 

He  received  a  formal  permission  to  retire,  and  an  assur- 
ance that,  as  the  wine  seemed  to  be  to  his  taste,  another 
measure  of  the  same  vintage  should  attend  him  presently,  in 
order  to  soothe  the  hours  of  his  solitude. 

No  sooner  had  the  Captain  reached  the  apartment  than 
this  promise  was  fulfilled ;  and,  in  a  short  time  afterwards, 
the  added  comforts  of  a  pasty  of  red-deer  venison  rendered 
him  very  tolerant  both  of  confinement  and  want  of  society. 
The  same  domestic,  a  sort  of  chamberlain,  who  placed  this 
good  cheer  in  his  apartment,  delivered  to  Dalgetty  a  packet, 
sealed  and  tied  up  with  a  silken  thread,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  time,  addressed  with  many  forms  of  respect  to  the 
High  and  Mighty  Prince,  Archibald,  Marquis  of  Argyle,  Lord 
of  Lome,  and  so  forth.  The  chamberlain  at  the  same  time 
apprised  the  Rittmaster  that  he  must  take  horse  at  an  early 
hour  for  Inverary,  where  the  packet  of  Sir  Duncan  would  be 
at  once  his  introduction  and  his  passport.  Not  forgetting 
that  it  was  his  object  to  collect  information  as  well  as  to  act 
as  an  envoy,  and  desirous,  for  his  own  sake,  to  ascertain  Sir 
Duncan's  reasons  for  sending  him  onward  without  his  per- 
sonal attendance,  the  Rittmaster  inquired  of  the  domestic, 
with  all  the  precaution  that  his  experience  suggested,  what 
were  the  reasons  which  detained  Sir  Duncan  at  home  on  the 
succeeding  day.  The  man,  who  was  from  the  Lowlands,  re- 
plied, 'Hhat  it  was  the  habit  of  Sir  Duncan  and  his  lady  to 
observe  as  a  day  of  solemn  fast  and  humiliation  the  anniver- 
sary on  which  their  castle  had  been  taken  by  surprise,  and 
their  children,  to  the  number  of  four,  destroyed  cruelly,  by  a 
band  of  Highland  freebooters  during  Sir  Duncan's  absence 
upon  an  expedition  which  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  had  under- 
taken against  the  Macleans  of  the  Isle  of  Mull." 

*'  Truly,"  said  the  soldier,  "  your  lord  and  lady  have  some 
cause  for  fast  and  humiliation.  Nevertheless,  I  will  venture 
to  pronounce  that,  if  he  had  taken  the  advice  of  any  experi- 
enced soldier,  having  skill  in  the  practices  of  defending 
places  of  advantage,  he  would  have  built  a  sconce  upon  the 
small  hill  which  is  to  the  left  of  the  drawbridge.  And  this  I 
can  easily  prove  to  you,  mine  honest  friend  ;  for,  holding  that 
pasty  to  be  the  castle What's  your  name,  friend  ? ' 

**  Lorimer,  sir,"  replied  the  man. 

"  Here  is  to  your  health,  honest  Lorimer.  I  say,  Lorimer, 
holding  that  pasty  to  be  the  main  body  or  citadel  of  the  place 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  339 

to  be  defended,  and  taking  the  marrow-bone  for  the  sconce 
to  be  erected " 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  said  Lorimer,  interrupting  him,  'Hhat 
I  cannot  stay  to  hear  the  rest  of  your  demonstration  ;  but 
the  bell  will  presently  ring.  As  worthy  Mr.  Graneangowl, 
tlie  Marquis's  own  chaplain,  does  family  worship,  and  only 
seven  of  our  household  out  of  sixty  persons  understand 
the  Scottish  tongue,  it  would  misbecome  any  one  of 
them  to  be  absent,  and  greatly  prejudice  me  in  the-  opinion 
of  my  lady.  There  are  pipes  and  tobacco,  sir,  if  you  please 
to  drink  a  whiff  of  smoke,  and  if  you  want  anything  else,  it 
shall  be  forthcoming  two  hours  hence,  when  prayers  are  over.'' 
So  saying,  he  left  the  apartment. 

No  sooner  was  he  gone  than  the  heavy  toll  of  the  castle 
bell  summoned  its  inhabitants  together  ;  and  was  answered  by 
the  shrill  clamor  of  the  females,  mixed  with  the  deeper  tones 
of  the  men,  as,  talking  Earse  at  the  top  of  their  throats,  they 
hurried  from  different  quarters  by  a  long  but  narrow  gallery, 
which  served  as  a  communication  to  many  rooms,  and,  among 
others,  to  that  in  which  Captain  Dalgetty  was  stationed. 
"There  they  go  as  if  they  were  beating  to  the  roll-call,'' 
thought  tlie  soldier  to  himself  ;  **  if  they  all  attend  the  pa- 
rade, I  will  look  out,  take  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air,  and  make 
mine  own  observations  on  the  practicabilities  of  this  place." 

Accordingly,  when  all  was  quiet,  he  opened  his  chamber 
door  and  prepared  to  leave  it,  when  h(  saw  his  friend  with 
the  axe  advancing  towards  him  from  the  distant  end  of  the 
gallery,  half-whistling,  half-humming  a  Gaelic  tune.  To  have 
shown  any  want  of  confidence  would  have  been  at  once  impol- 
itic and  unbecoming  his  military  character ;  so  the  Captain, 
putting  the  best  face  upon  his  situation  he  could,  whistled  a 
Swedish  retreat  in  a  tone  still  louder  than  the  notes  of  his 
sentinel  ;  and,  retreating  pace  by  pace,  with  an  air  of  indif- 
ference, as  if  his  only  purpose  had  been  to  breathe  a  little 
fresh  air,  he  shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  his  guard,  when  the 
fellow  had  approached  within  a  few  paces  of  him. 

"  It  is  very  well,"  thought  the  Rittmaster  to  himself  ;  "  he 
annuls  my  parole  by  putting  guards  upon  me,  for,  as  we  used 
to  say  at  Marischal  College,  ^^65  et  fiducia  sunt  relativa;  * 
and  if  he  does  not  trust  my  word,  I  do  not  see  how  I  am 
bound  to  keep  it,  if  any  motive  should  occur  for  my  desiring 
to  depart  from  it.  Surely  the  moral  obligation  of  the  parole 
is  relaxed,  in  as  far  as  physical  force  is  substituted  instead 
thereof." 

♦  See  Note  4. 


fm  W AVE  RLE  Y  NOVELS 

Thus  comforting  himself  in  the  metaphysical  immunities 
which  he  deduced  from  the  vigilance  of  his  sentinel,  Ritt- 
master  Dalgetty  retired  to  his  apartment,  where,  amid  the 
theoretical  calculations  of  tactics  and  the  occasional  more 
practical  attacks  on  the  flask  and  pasty,  he  consumed  the 
evening  until  it  was  time  to  go  to  repose.  He  was  summoned 
by  Lorimer  at  break  of  day,  who  gave  him  to  understand  that 
when  he  had  broken  his  fast,  for  which  he  produced  ample 
materials,  his  guide  and  horse  were  in  attendance  for  his 
iourney  to  Inverary.  After  complying  with  the  hospitable 
hint  of  the  chamberlain,  the  soldier  proceeded  to  take  horse. 
In  passing  through  the  apartments,  he  observed  that  domes- 
tics were  busily  employed  in  hanging  the  great  hall  with  black 
cloth,  a  ceremony  which,  he  said,  he  had  seen  practised  when 
the  immortal  Gustavus  Adolphus  lay  in  state  in  the  Castle  of 
Wolgast,  and  which,  therefore,  he  opined,  was  a  testimonial 
of  the  strictest  and  deepest  mourning. 

When  Dalgetty  mounted  his  steed,  he  found  himself  at- 
tended, or  perhaps  guarded,  by  five  or  six  Campbells,  well 
armed,  commanded  by  one  who,  from  the  target  at  his 
shoulder  and  the  short  cock^s  feather  in  his  bonnet,  as  well  as 
from  the  state  which  he  took  upon  himself,  claimed  the  rank 
of  a  duinhewassel  or  clansman  of  superior  rank  ;  and  indeed, 
from  his  dignity  of  deportment,  could  not  stand  in  a  more 
distant  degree  of  relationship  to  Sir  Duncan  than  that  of 
tenth  or  twelfth  cousin  at  farthest.  But  it  was  impossible  to 
extract  positive  information  on  this  or  any  other  subject,  in- 
asmuch as  neither  this  commander  nor  any  of  his  party  spoke 
English.  The  Captain  rode  and  his  military  attendants 
walked  ;  but  such  was  their  activity,  and  so  numerous  the 
impediments  which  the  nature  of  the  road  presented  to  the 
equestrian  mode  of  travelling,  that,  far  from  being  retarded 
by  the  slowness  of  their  pace,  his  difficulty  was  rather  in 
keeping  up  with  his  guides.  He  observed  that  they  occasion- 
ally watched  him  with  a  sharp  eye,  as  if  they  were  jealous  of 
some  effort  to  escape  ;  and  once,  as  he  lingered  behind  at 
crossing  a  brook,  one  of  the  gillies  began  to  blow  the  match 
of  his  piece,  giving  him  to  understand  that  he  would  run 
some  risk  in  case  of  an  attempt  to  part  company.  Dalgetty 
did  not  augur  much  good  from  the  close  watch  thus  main- 
tained upon  his  person  ;  but  there  was  no  remedy,  for  an  at- 
tempt to  escape  from  his  attendants  in  an  impervious  and  un- 
known country  would  have  been  little  short  of  insanity.  He 
therefore  plodded  patiently  on  through  a  waste  and  savage 
wilderress,  treading  paths  which  were  only  known  to  theshep- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MOXTROSE  241 

herds  and  cattle-drivers,  and  passing  with  much  more  of  discom- 
fort than  satisfaction  many  of  those  sublime  combinations  of 
mountainous  scenery  which  now  draw  visitors  from  every 
corner  of  England  to  feast  their  eyes  upon  Highland  grandeur 
and  mortify  their  palates  upon  Highland  fare. 

At  length  they  arrived  on  the  southern  verge  of  that 
noble  lake  upon  which  Inverary  is  situated ;  and  a  bugle, 
whicli  the  duinhewassel  winded  till  rock  and  greenwood  rang, 
served  as  a  signal  to  a  well-manned  galley  which,  starting 
from  a  creek  where  it  lay  concealed,  received  the  party  on 
board,  including  Gustavus ;  which  sagacious  quadruped,  an 
experienced  traveller  both  by  water  and  land,  walked  in  and 
out  of  the  boat  with  the  discretion  of  a  Christian. 

Embarked  on  the  bosom  of  Loch  Fine,  Captain  Dalgetty 
might  have  admired  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  which  nature 
affords.  He  might  have  noticed  the  rival  rivers  Aray  and 
Shira,  which  pay  tribute  to  the  lake,  each  issuing  from  its 
own  dark  and  wooded  retreat.  He  might  have  marked,  on 
the  soft  and  gentle  slope  that  ascends  from  the  shores,  the 
noble  old  Gothic  castle,  with  its  varied  outline,  embattled 
walls,  towers,  and  outer  and  inner  courts,  which,  so  far  as  the 
picturesque  is  concerned,  presented  an  aspect  much  more 
striking  than  the  present  massive  and  uniform  mansion.  He 
might  have  admired  those  dark  woods  which  for  many  a  mile 
surrounded  this  strong  and  princely  dwelling,  and  his  eye 
might  have  dwelt  on  the  picturesque  peak  of  Duniquoich, 
starting  abruptly  from  the  lake,  and  raising  its  scathed  brow 
into  the  mists  of  middle  sky,  while  a  solitary  watch-tower, 
perched  on  its  top  like  an  eagle's  nest,  gave  dignity  to  the 
scene  by  awakening  a  sense  of  possible  danger.  All  these, 
and  every  other  accompaniment  of  this  noble  scene.  Captain 
Dalgetty  might  have  marked  if  he  had  been  so  minded. 
But,  to  confess  the  truth,  the  gallant  Captain,  w^ho  had  eaten 
nothing  since  daybreak,  was  chiefly  interested  by  the  smoke 
which  ascended  from  the  castle  chimneys,  and  the  expectations 
which  this  seemed  to  warrant  of  his  encountering  an  abun- 
dant stock  of  provant,  as  he  was  wont  to  call  supplies  of  this 
nature. 

The  boat  soon  approached  the  rugged  pier,  which  abutted 
into  the  loch  from  the  little  town  of  Inverary,  then  a  rude 
assemblage  of  huts,  with  a  very  few  stone  mansions  inter- 
spersed, stretching  upwards  from  the  banks  of  Loch  Fine  to 
the  principal  gate  of  the  castle,  before  which  a  scene  pre- 
sented itself  that  might  easily  have  quelled  a  less  stout  heart 
and  turned  a  more  delicate  stomach  than  those  of  Rittmaster 
Dugaid  Dalgetty^  titular  of  Drumthwacket. 


CHAPTER  XII 

For  close  designs  and  crooked  counsels  fit. 
Sagacious,  bold,  and  turbulent  of  wit, 
Restless,  unfix'd  in  principle  and  place, 
In  power  unpleased,  impatient  in  disgrace. 

Absalom  and  Achitophel. 

The  village  of  Inverary,  now  a  neat  country  town,  then  par^ 
took  of  the  rudeness  of  the  17th  century,  in  the  miserable 
appearance  of  the  houses  and  the  irregularity  of  the  unpaved 
street.  But  a  stronger  and  more  terrible  characteristic  of  the 
period  appeared  in  tlie  market-place,  which  was  a  space 
of  irregular  width,  half-way  betwixt  the  harbor  or  pier  and  the 
frowning  castle-gate,  which  terminated  with  its  gloomy  arch- 
way, portcullis,  and  flankers  the  upper  end  of  the  vista. 
Midway  this  space  was  erected  a  rude  gibbet,  on  which  hung 
five  dead  bodies,  two  of  which  from  their  dress  seemed  to 
have  been  Lowlanders,  and  the  other  three  corpses  were 
muffled  in  their  Highland  plaids.  Two  or  three  women  sat 
under  the  gallows,  who  seemed  to  be  mourning  and  singing 
the  coronach  of  the  deceased  in  a  low  voice.  But  the  spec- 
tacle was  apparently  of  too  ordinary  occurrence  to  have 
much  interest  for  the  inhabitants  at  large,  who,  while  they 
thronged  to  look  at  the  military  figure,  the  horse  of  an 
unusual  size,  and  the  burnished  panoply  of  Captain  Dalgetty, 
seemed  to  bestow  no  attention  whatever  on  the  piteous  spec- 
tacle which  their  own  market-place  afforded. 

The  envoy  of  Montrose  was  not  quite  so  indifferent  ,'  and, 
hearing  a  word  or  two  of  English  escape  from  a  Highlander 
of  decent  appearance,  he  immediately  halted  Gustavus  and 
addressed  him.  *'  The  provost-marshal  has  been  busy  here, 
my  friend.  May  I  crave  of  you  what  these  delinquents  have 
been  justified  for  ?" 

He  looked  towards  the  gibbet  as  he  spoke ;  and  the  Gael, 
comprehending  his  meaning  rather  by  his  action  than  his 
words,  immediately  replied,  *^  Three  gentlemen  caterans — 
God  sain  them  [crossmg  himself] — twa  Sassenach  bits  o' 
bodies  that  wadna  do  something  that  M'Callum  More  bade 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  24S 

them  ; "  and,  tnrning  from  Dalgetty  with  an  air  of  indiffer- 
ence, away  he  walked,  staying  no  farther  question. 

Dalgetty  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  proceeded,  for  Sir 
Duncan  Campbeirs  tenth  or  twelfth  cousin  had  already 
shown  some  signs  of  impatience. 

At  the  gate  of  the  castle  another  terrible  spectacle  of 
feudal  power  awaited  him.  Within  a  stockade  or  palisado, 
which  seemed  lately  to  have  been  added  to  the  defences  of  the 
gate,  and  which  was  protected  by  two  pieces  of  light  artillery, 
was  a  small  inclosure,  where  stood  a  huge  block,  on  which  lay 
an  axe.  Both  were  smeared  with  recent  blood,  and  a  quantity 
of  sawdust  strewed  around  partly  retained  and  partly  obliter- 
ated the  marks  of  a  very  late  execution. 

As  Dalgetty  looked  on  this  new  object  of  terror,  his  prin- 
cipal guide  suddenly  twitched  him  by  the  skirt  of  his  jerkin, 
and  having  thus  attracted  his  attention,  winked  and  pointed 
with  his  finger  to  a  pole  fixed  on  the  stockade,  which  sup- 
ported a  human  head,  being  that,  doubtless,  of  the  late  suf- 
ferer. There  was  a  leer  on  the  Highlander^'s  face  as  he  pointed 
to  this  ghastly  spectacle  which  seemed  to  his  fellow-traveller 
ominous  of  nothing  good. 

Dalgetty  dismounted  from  his  horse  at  the  gateway,  and 
Gustavus  was  taken  from  him  without  his  being  permitted  to 
attend  him  to  the  stable,  according  to  his  custom. 

This  gave  the  soldier  a  pang  which  the  apparatus  of  death 
had  not  conveyed.  '^  Poor  Gustavus  !  '^  said  he  to  himself,  "if 
anything  but  good  happens  to  me,  I  had  better  have  left  him 
at  Darnlinvarach  than  brought  him  here  among  these  Highland 
savages,  who  scarce  know  the  head  of  a  horse  from  his  tail. 
But  duty  must  part  a  man  from  his  nearest  and  dearest — 

"  *  When  the  cannons  are  roaring,  lads,  and  the  colors  are  flying, 
The  lads  that  seek  honor  must  never  fear  dying  ; 
Then,  stout  cavaliers,  let  us  toil  our  brave  trade  in. 
And  fight  for  the  Gospel  and  the  bold  King  of  Sweden.' " 

Thus  silencing  his  apprehensions  with  the  butt-end  of  a  mili- 
tary ballad,  he  followed  his  guide  into  a  sort  of  guard-room 
filled  with  armed  Highlanders.  It  was  intimated  to  him  that 
he  must  remain  here  until  his  arrival  was  communicated  to 
the  Marquis.  To  make  this  communication  the  more  intel- 
ligible, the  doughty  Captain  gave  to  the  duinhewassel  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell's  packet,  desiring,  as  well  as  he  could,  by 
signs,  that  it  should  be  delivered  into  the  Marquis's  own 
hand.     His  guide  nodded  and  withdrew. 

The  Captain  was  left  about  half  an  hour  in  this  place. 


244  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  endure  with  indifference  or  return  with  scorn  the  inquisi- 
tive, and,  at  the  same  time,  the  inimical  glances  of  the  armed 
Gael,  to  whom  his  exterior  and  equipage  were  as  much  sub- 
ject of  curiosity  as  his  person  and  country  seemed  matter  of 
dislike.  All  this  he  bore  with  military  nonchalance,  until, 
at  the  expiration  of  the  above  period,  a  person  dressed  in 
black  velvet,  and  wearing  a  gold  chain  like  a  modern  magis- 
trate of  Edinburgh,  but  who  was,  in  fact,  steward  of  the 
household  to  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  entered  the  apartment, 
and  invited,  with  solemn  gravity,  the  Captain  to  follow  him 
to  his  master's  presence. 

The  suite  of  apartments  through  which  he  passed  were 
filled  with  attendants  or  visitors  of  various  descriptions,  dis- 
posed, perhaps,  with  some  ostentation,  in  order  to  impress 
the  envoy  of  Montrose  with  an  idea  of  the  superior  power 
and  magnificence  belonging  to  the  rival  house  of  Argyle. 
One  anteroom  was  filled  with  lackeys,  arrayed  in  brown  and 
yellow,  the  colors  of  the  family,  who,  ranged  in  double  file, 
gazed  in  silence  upon  Captain  Dalgetty  as  he  passed  betwixt 
their  ranks.  Another  was  occupied  by  Highland  gentlemen 
and  chiefs  of  small  branches,  who  were  amusing  themselves 
with  chess,  backgammon,  and  other  games,  which  they  scarce 
intermitted  to  gaze  with  curiosity  upon  the  stranger.  A 
third  was  filled  with  Lowland  gentlemen  and  officers,  who 
seemed  also  in  attendance  ;  and,  lastly,  the  presence-chamber 
of  the  Marquis  himself  showed  him  attended  by  a  levee  which 
marked  his  high  importance. 

This  apartment,  the  folding-doors  of  which  were  opened 
for  the  reception  of  Captain  Dalgetty,  was  a  long  gallery, 
decorated  with  tapestry  and  family  portraits,  and  having  a 
vaulted  ceiling  of  open  woodwork,  the  extreme  projections 
of  the  beams  being  richly  carved  and  gilded.  The  gallery 
was  lighted  by  long  lanceolated  Gothic  casements,  divided  by 
heavy  shafts,  and  filled  with  painted  glass,  where  the  sun- 
beams glimmered  dimly  through  boars'  heads,  and  galleys, 
and  batons,  and  swords — armorial  bearings  of  the  powerful 
house  of  Argyle,  and  emblems  of  the  high  hereditary  offices 
of  Justiciary  of  Scotland  and  Master  of  the  Eoyal  Household, 
which  they  long  enjoyed.  At  the  upper  end  of  this  magnifi- 
cent gallery  stood  the  Marquis  himself,  the  centre  of  a  splen- 
did circle  of  Highland  and  Lowland  gentlemen,  all  richly 
dressed,  among  whom  were  two  or  three  of  the  clergy,  called 
in,  perhaps,  to  be  witnesses  of  his  lordship's  ze:u  for  the 
Covenant. 

The  Marquis  himself  was  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  th« 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  ,  345 

period,  which  Vandyke  has  so  often  painted  ;  but  his  habit 
was  sober  and  uniform  in  color,  and  rather  rich  than  gay. 
His  dark  complexion,  furrowed  forehead,  and  downcast  look 
gave  him  the  appearance  of  one  frequently  engaged  in  the 
consideration  of  important  affairs,  and  who  has  acquired  by 
long  habit  an  air  of  gravity  and  mystery  which  he  cannot  shake 
off  even  where  there  is  nothing  to  be  concealed.  The  cast 
with  his  eyes,  which  had  procured  him  in  the  Highlands  the 
nickname  of  Gillespie  Grumach  (or  the  grim),  was  less  per- 
ceptible when  he  looked  downward,  which  perhaps  was  one 
cause  of  his  having  adopted  that  habit.  In  person  he  was  tall 
and  thin,  but  not  without  that  dignity  of  deportment  and 
manners  which  became  his  high  rank.  Something  there  was 
cold  in  his  address  and  sinister  in  his  look,  although  he  spoke 
and  behaved  with  the  usual  grace  of  a  man  of  such  quality. 
He  was  adored  by  his  own  clan,  whose  advancement  he  had 
greatly  studied,  although  he  was  in  proportion  disliked  by  the 
Highlanders  of  other  sects,  some  of  whom  he  had  already 
stripped  of  their  possessions,  while  others  conceived  themselves 
in  danger  from  his  future  schemes,  and  all  dreaded  the  height 
to  which  he  was  elevated. 

We  have  already  noticed  that,  in  displaying  himself  amid 
his  councillors,  his  officers  of  the  household,  and  his  train  of 
vassals,  allies,  and  dependants,  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  probably 
wished  to  make  an  impression  on  the  nei-vous  system  of  Captain 
Dugald  Dalgetty.  But  that  doughty  person  had  fought  his 
way,  in  one  department  or  another,  through  the  greater  part  of 
the  Thirty  Years'  War  in  Germany,  a  period  when  a  brave  and 
successful  soldier  was  a  companion  for  princes.  The  King  of 
Sweden,  and,  after  his  example,  even  the  haughty  Princes  of 
the  Empire,  had  found  themselves  fain  frequently  to  compound 
with  their  dignity,  and  silence,  when  they  could  not  satisfy,  the 
pecuniary  claims  of  their  soldiers  by  admitting  them  to  unusual 
privileges  and  familiarity.  Captain  Dugald  Dalgetty  had  it  to 
boast  that  he  had  sat  with  princes  at  feasts  made  for  monarchs, 
and  therefore  was  not  a  person  to  be  browbeat  even  by  the 
dignity  which  surrounded  M'Callum  More.  Indeed,  he  was 
naturally  by  no  means  the  most  modest  man  in  the  world,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  had  so  good  an  opinion  of  himself  that,  into 
whatever  company  he  chanced  to  be  thrown,  he  was  always 
proportionally  elevated  in  his  own  conceit ;  so  that  he  felt  as 
much  at  ease  in  the  most  exalted  society  as  among  his  own 
ordinary  companions.  In  this  high  opinion  of  his  own  rank 
he  was  greatly  fortified  by  his  ideas  of  the  military  profession, 
which,  in  his  phrase,  made  a  valiant  cavalier  a  camarado  to 
an  emperor,  — 


345  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

When  introduced,  therefore,  into  the  Marquis's  presence- 
chamber,  he  advanced  to  the  upper  end  with  an  air  of  more 
confidence  than  grace,  and  would  have  gone  close  up  to 
Argyle's  person  before  speaking  had  not  the  latter  waved 
his  hand  as  a  signal  to  him  to  stop  short.  Captain  Dalgetty 
did  so  accordingly,  and,  having  made  his  military  congee 
with  easy  confidence,  he  thus  accosted  the  Marquis  :  ''  Give 
you  good-morrow,  my  lord  ;  or  rather  I  should  say,  good-even. 
' Beso  a  usted  los  manos,'  as  the  Spaniard  says." 

'*  Who  are  you,  sir,  and  what  is  your  business  ?"  demanded 
the  Marquis,  in  a  tone  which  was  intended  to  interrupt  the 
offensive  familiarity  of  the  soldier. 

"That  is  a  fair  interrogative,  my  lord,"  answered  Dal- 
ffetty,  "which  I  shall  forthwith  answer  as  becomes  a  cava- 
lier, and  that  per  emptor  ie,  as  we  used  to  say  at  Marischal 
College." 

"See  who  or  what  he  is,  Neal,"  said  the  Marquis,  sternly, 
to  a  gentleman  who  stood  near  him. 

"I  will  save  the  honorable  gentleman  the  labor  of  inves- 
tigation," continued  the  Captain.  "I  am  Dugald  Dalgetty 
of  Drumthwacket,  that  should  be,  late  liittmaster  in  various 
services,  and  now  Major  of  I  know  not  what  or  whose  regi- 
ment of  Irishes  ;  and  I  am  come  with  a  flag  of  truce  from  a 
high  and  powerful  lord,  James  Earl  of  Montrose,  and  othei* 
noble  persons  now  in  arms  for  his  Majesty.  And  so,  *  God 
save  King  Charles  ! ' " 

"Do  you  know  where  you  are,  and  the  danger  of  dallying 
with  us,  sir,"  again  demanded  the  Marquis,  "that  you  reply 
to  me  as  if  I  were  a  child  or  a  fool  ?  The  Earl  of  Montrose 
is  with  the  English  malignants  ;  and  I  suspect  you  are  one  of 
those  Irish  runagates  who  are  come  into  this  country  to  burn 
and  slay,  as  they  did  under  Sir  Phelim  O'Neale." 

"My  lord,"  replied  Captain  Dalgetty,  "I  am  no  rene- 
gade, though  a  Major  of  Irishes,  for  which  I  might  refer 
your  lordship  to  the  invincible  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  Lion 
of  the  North,  to  Bannier,  to  Oxenstiern,  to  the  warlike  Duke 
of  Saxe- Weimar,  Tilly,  Wallenstein,  Piccolomini,  and  other 
great  captains,  both  dead  and  living  ;  and  touching  the  noble 
Earl  of  Montrose,  I  pray  your  lordship  to  peruse  these  my 
full  powers  for  treating  with  you  in  the  name  of  tliat  right 
honorable  commander." 

The  Marquis  looked  slightingly  at  the  signed  and  sealed 
paper  which  Captain  Dalgetty  handed  to  him,  and,  throwing 
it  with  contempt  upon  a  table,  asked  those  around  him  what 
he  deserved  who  came  as  the  avowed  envoy  and  agent  of 
malignant  traitors,  in  arms  against  the  state. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  247 

"  A  high  gallows  and  a  short  shrift,'^  was  the  ready  an- 
swer of  one  of  the  bystanders. 

"  I  will  crave  of  that  honorable  cavalier  who  hath  last 
spoken,"  said  Dalgetty,  "to  be  less  hasty  in  forming  his  con- 
clusions, and  also  of  your  lordship  to  be  cautious  in  adopting 
the  same,  in  respect  such  threats  are  to  be  held  out  only  to 
base  bisognos,  and  not  to  men  of  spirit  and  action,  who  are 
bound  to  peril  themselves  as  freely  in  services  of  this  nature 
as  upon  sieges,  battles,  or  onslaughts  of  any  sort.  And 
albeit  I  have  not  with  me  a  trumpet  or  a  white  flag,  in  re- 
spect our  army  is  not  yet  equipped  with  its  full  appointments, 
yet  the  honorable  cavaliers  and  your  lordship  must  concede 
unto  me  that  the  sanctity  of  an  envoy  who  cometh  on  matter 
of  truce  or  parley  consisteth  not  in  the  fanfare  of  a  trumpet, 
whilk  is  but  a  sound,  or  in  the  flap  of  a  white  flag,  whilk  is 
but  an  old  rag  in  itself,  but  in  the  confidence  reposed,  by  the 
party  sending  and  the  party  sent,  in  the  honor  of  those  to 
Avhotn  the  message  is  to  be  carried,  and  their  full  reliance 
that  they  will  respect  the  jus  gentium,  as  weel  as  the  law  of 
arms,  in  the  person  of  the  commissionate." 

'*^  You  are  not  come  hither  to  lecture  us  upon  the  law  of 
arms,  sir,"  said  the  Marquis,  *' which  neither  does  nor  can 
apply  to  rebels  and  insurgents ;  but  to  suffer  the  penalty  of 
your  insolence  and  folly  for  bringing  a  traitorous  message  to 
the  Lord  Justice- General  of  Scotland,  whose  duty  calls  upon 
him  to  punish  such  an  offence  with  death." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  Captain,  who  began  much  to  dis- 
like the  turn  which  his  mission  seemed  about  to  take,  "  I , 
pray  you  to  remember  that  the  Earl  of  Montrose  will  hold 
you  and  your  possessions  liable  for  whatever  injury  my  per- 
son or  my  horse  shall  sustain  by  these  unseemly  proceedings, 
and  that  he  will  be  justified  in  executing  retributive  ven- 
geance on  your  persons  and  possessions." 

This  menace  was  received  with  a  scornful  laugh,  while 
one  of  the  Campbells  replied,  "It  is  a  far  cry  to  Lochow,"  a 
proverbial  expression  of  the  tribe,  meaning  that  their  ancient 
hereditary  domains  lay  beyond  the  reach  of  an  invading 
enemy.  /'But,  gentlemen,"  further  urged  the  unfortunate 
Captain,  who  was  unwilling  to  be  condemned  without  at 
least  the  benefit  of  a  full  hearing,  "although  it  is  not  for  me 
to  say  how  far  it  may  be  to  Lochow,  in  respect  I  am  a  stran- 
ger to  these  parts,  yet,  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  I  trust 
you  will  admit  that  I  have  the  guarantee  of  an  honorable 
gentleman  of  your  own  name,  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  of  Ar- 
deavohr,  for  my  safety  on  this  mission ;  and  I  pray  you  to 


£48  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

observe  that,  in  breaking  the   truce   towards  me,  you  will 
highly  prejudicate  his  honor  and  fair  fame/' 

This  seemed  to  be  new  information  to  many  of  the  gentle- 
men, for  they  spoke  aside  with  each  other,  and  the  Marquis's 
face,  notwithstanding  his  power  of  suppressing  all  external 
signs  of  his  passions,  showed  impatience  and  vexation. 

^^  Does  Sir  Duncan  of  Ardenvohr  pledge  his  honor  for  this 
person's  safety,  my  lord  ?  "  said  one  of  the  company,  ad- 
dressing the  Marquis. 

"  I  do  not  believe  it,"  answered  the  Marquis ;  '^  but  I  have 
not  yet  had  time  to  read  his  letter." 

^'  We  will  pray  your  lordship  to  do  so,"  said  another  of 
the  Campbells  ;  **  our  name  must  not  suffer  discredit  through 
the  means  of  such  a  fellow  as  this." 

"  A  dead  fly,"  said  a  clergyman,  *'  maketh  the  ointment 
of  the  apothecary  to  stink." 

*'  Reverend  sir,"  said  Captain  Dalgetty^  **  in  respect  of 
the  use  to  be  derived,  I  forgive  you  the  unsavoriness  of  your 
comparison  ;  and  also  remit  to  the  gentleman  in  the  red  bon- 
net the  disparaging  epithet  of  '  fellow '  which  he  has  dis- 
courteously applied  to  me,  who  am  no  way  to  be  distinguished 
by  the  same,  unless  in  so  far  as  I  have  been  called  fellow- 
soldier  by  the  great  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  Lion  of  the 
North,  and  other  choice  commanders,  both  in  Germany  and 
the  Low  Countries.  But,  touching  Sir  Duncan  Campbell's 
guarantee  of  my  safety,  I  will  gage  my  life  upon  his  mak- 
ing my  words  good  thereanent  when  he  comes  hither  to- 
morrow." 

"  If  Sir  Duncan  be  soon  expected,  my  lord,"  said  one  of 
the  intercessors,  ''  it  would  be  a  pity  to  anticipate  matters  with 
this  poor  man." 

*^  Besides  that,"  said  another,  '^  your  lordship — I  speak 
with  reverence — should,  at  least,  consult  the  Knight  of  Arden- 
vohr's  letter,  and  learn  the  terms  on  which  this  Major  Dal- 
getty,  as  he  calls  himself,  has  been  sent  hither  by  him. " 

They  closed  around  the  Marquis,  and  conversed  together 
in  a  low  tone,  both  in  Gaelic  and  English.  The  patriarchal 
power  of  the  Chiefs  was  very  great,  and  that  of  the  Marquis 
of  Argyle,  armed  with  all  his  grants  of  hereditary  jurisdic- 
tion, was  particularly  absolute.  But  there  interferes  some 
check  of  one  kind  or  other  even  in  the  most  despotic  govern- 
ment. That  which  mitigated  the  power  of  the  Celtic  Chiefs 
was  the  necessity  which  they  lay  under  of  conciliating  the 
kinsmen,  who,  under  them,  led  out  the  lower  orders  to  battle, 
and  who  formed  a  sort  of  council  of  the  tribe  in  time  of 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  249 

peace.  The  Marquis  on  this  occasion  thought  himself  under 
the  necessity  of  attending  to  the  remonstrances  of  this  senate, 
or  more  properly  couroultai,  of  the  name  of  Campbell,  and, 
slipping  out  of  the  circle,  gave  orders  for  the  prisoner  to  be 
removed  to  a  place  of  security. 

'^Prisoner!''  exclaimed  Dalgetty,  exerting  himself  with 
such  force  as  well-nigh  to  shake  ofe  two  Highlanders  who 
for  some  minutes  past  had  waited  the  signal  to  seize  him,  and 
kept  for  that  purpose  close  at  his  back.  Indeed,  the  soldier 
had  so  nearly  attained  his  liberty  that  the  Marquis  of  Argyle 
changed  color  and  stepped  back  two  paces,  laying,  however, 
his  hand  on  his  sword,  while  several  of  his  clan,  with  ready 
devotio^,  threw  themselves  betwixt  him  and  the  apprehended 
vengeance  of  the  prisoner.  But  the  Highland  guards  were 
too  strong  to  be  shaken  off,  and  the  unlucky  Captain,  after 
having  had  his  offensive  weapons  taken  from  him,  was 
dragged  off  and  conducted  through  several  gloomy  passages 
to  a  small  side-door  grated  with  iron,  within  which  was  an- 
other of  wood.  These  were  opened  by  a  grim  old  Highlander 
with  a  long  white  beard,  and  displayed  a  very  steep  and  nar- 
row flight  of  steps  leading  downward.  The  Captain's  guards 
pushed  him  down  two  or  three  steps,  then,  unloosing  his 
arms,  left  him  to  grope  his  way  to  the  bottom  as  he  could  ;  a 
task  which  became  difficult  and  even  dangerous,  when  the 
two  doors  being  successively  locked  left  the  prisoner  in  total 
darkness. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

Whatever  stranger  visits  here, 

We  pity  his  sad  case, 
Unless  to  worship  he  draw  near 

The  King  of  Kings — his  Grace. 

BuRNS's  Epigram  on  a  Visit  to  Inverary 

The  Captain,  finding  himself  deprived  of  light  in  the  man- 
ner we  have  described,  and  placed  in  a  very  uncertain  situa- 
tion, proceeded  to  descend  the  narrow  and  broken  stair  with 
all  the  caution  in  his  power,  hoping  that  he  might  find  at  the 
bottom  some  place  to  repose  himself.  But  with  all  his  care 
he  could  not  finally  avoid  making  a  false  step,  which  brought 
him  down  the  four  or  five  last  steps  too  hastily  to  preserve  his 
equilibrium.  At  the  bottom  he  stumbled  over  a  bundle  of 
something  soft,  which  stirred  and  uttered  a  groan,  so  derang- 
ing the  Captain's  descent  that  he  floundered  forward,  and 
finally  fell  upon  his  hands  and  knees  on  the  floor  of  a  damp 
and  stone-paved  dungeon. 

When  Dalgetty  had  recovered,  his  first  demand  was  to 
know  over  whom  he  had  stumbled. 

'*  He  was  a  man  a  month  since,"  answered  a  hollow  and 
broken  voice. 

"  And  what  is  he  now,  then,''  said  Dalgetty,  *'  that  he 
thinks  it  fitting  to  lie  upon  the  lowest  step  of  the  stairs,  and 
clewed  up  like  a  hurchin,  that  honorable  cavaliers  who  chance 
to  be  in  trouble  may  break  their  noses  over  him  ? " 

"What  is  he  now  \"  replied  the  same  voice.  "  He  is  a 
wretched  trunk,  from  which  the  boughs  have  one  by  one  been 
lopped  away,  and  which  cares  little  how  soon  it  is  torn  up  and 
hewed  into  billets  for  the  furnace." 

"Friend,"  said  Dalgetty,  "I  am  sorry  for  you  ;  but,jpa/i- 
enza,  as  the  Spaniard  says.  If  you  had  but  been  as  quiet  as 
a  log,  as  you  call  yourself,  I  should  have  saved  some  excoria- 
tions on  my  hands  and  knees." 

"You  are  a  soldier,"  replied  his  fellow-prisoner;  "do 
you  complain  on  account  of  a  fall  for  which  a  Doy  would  not 
bemoan  himself  ?  " 

250 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  251 

'*  A  soldier  ! "  said  the  Captain.  ^^  And  how  do  you  know, 
in  this  cursed  dark  cavern,  that  I  am  a  soldier  ?  " 

^*  I  heard  your  armor  clash  as  you  fell/'  replied  the  pris- 
oner, ^'  and  now  I  see  it  glimmer.  When  you  have  remained 
as  long  as  I  in  this  darkness,  your  eyes  will  distinguish  the 
smallest  eft  that  crawls  on  the  floor. " 

*'  I  had  rather  the  devil  picked  them  out  ! ''  said  Dalgetty  ; 
*'if  this  be  the  case,  I  shall  wish  for  a  short  turn  of  the  rope, 
a  soldier's  prayer,  and  a  leap  from  a  ladder.  But  what  sort 
of  provant  have  you  got  here — what  food,  I  mean,  brother  in 
affliction?" 

''  Bread  and  water  once  a  day,''  replied  the  voice. 

'*  Pri'thee,  friend,  let  me  taste  your  loaf,"  said  Dalgetty. 
''  I  hope  we  shall  play  good  comrades  while  we  dwell  together 
in  this  abominable  pit." 

"  The  loaf  and  jar  of  Avater,"  answered  the  other  prisoner, 
*'  stand  in  the  corner,  two  steps  to  your  right  hand.  Take 
them  and  welcome.  With  earthly  food  I  have  well-nigh 
done." 

Dalgetty  did  not  wait  for  a  second  invitation,  but,  groping 
out  the  po-ovisions,  began  to  munch  at  the  stale  black  oaten 
loaf  with  as  much  heartiness  as  we  have  seen  him  play  his 
part  at  better  viands. 

**  This  bread,"  he  said,  muttering,  with  his  mouth  full  at 
the  same  time,  ^*is  not  very  savory  ;  nevertheless,  it  is  not 
much  worse  than  that  which  we  ate  at  the  famous  leaguer  at 
Werben,  where  the  valorous  Gustavus  foiled  all  the  efforts  of 
the  celebrated  Tilly,  that  terrible  old  hero,  who  liad  driven 
two  kings  out  of  the  field — namely,  Ferdinand  of  Bohemia 
and  Christian  of  Denmark.  And  anent  this  water,  which  is 
none  of  the  most  sweet,  I  drink  in  the  same  to  your  speedy 
deliverance,  comrade,  not  forgetting  mine  own,  and  devoutly 
wishing  it  were  Khenish  wine,  or  humming  Lubeck  beer,  at 
the  least,  were  it  but  in  honor  of  the  pledge." 

While  Dalgetty  ran  on  in  this  way,  his  teeth  kept  time 
with  his  tongue,  and  he  speedily  finished  the  provisions  which 
the  benevolence  or  indifference  of  his  companion  in  misfor- 
tune had  abandoned  to  his  voracity.  When  this  task  was 
accomplished,  he  wrapped  himself  in  his  cloak,  and  seating 
himself  in  a  corner  of  the  dungeon  in  which  he  could  obtain 
a  support  on  each  side — for  he  had  always  been  an  admirer  of 
elbow-chairs,  he  remarked,  even  from  his  youth  upward — he 
began  to  question  his  fellow-captive. 

''  Mine  honest  friend,"  said  he,  '^you  and  I,  being  com- 
rades at  bed  and  board,  should  be  better  acquainted.     I  am 


252  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Dugald  Dalgetty  of  Drumthwacket,  and  so  forth.  Major  in  a 
regiment  of  loyal  Irishes,  and  Envoy  Extraordinary  of  a  High 
and  Mighty  Lord,  James,  Earl  of  Montrose.  Pray,  what  may 
your  name  be  ^" 

''It  will  avail  yon  little  to  know,"  replied  his  more  taci- 
tnm  companion. 

"  Let  me  judge  of  that  matter,"  answered  the  soldier. 

"  Well  then,  Kanald  MacEagh  is  my  name — that  is,  Ra- 
nald Son  of  the  Mist." 

''  Son  of  the  Mist !"  ejaculated  Dalgetty.  ''  Son  of  utter 
darkness,  say  I.  But,  Eanald,  since  that  is  your  name,  how 
came  you  in  possession  of  the  provost^s  court  of  guard  ?  what 
the  devil  brought  you  here,  that  is  to  say  ?  " 

''My  misfortunes  and  my  crimes,"  answered  Ranald. 
*'  Know  ye  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  ? " 

"  I  do  know  that  honorable  person,"  replied  Dalgetty. 

"  But  know  ye  where  he  now  is  ?  "  replied  Ranald. 

"Fasting  this  day  at  Ardenvohr,"  answered  the  Envoy, 
"  that  he  may  feast  to-morrow  at  Inverary ;  in  which  last  pur- 
pose if  he  chance  to  fail,  my  lease  of  human  service  will  be 
something  precarious." 

"  Then  let  him  know  one  claims  his  intercession  who  is 
his  worst  foe  and  his  best  friend,"  answered  Ranald. 

"  Truly  I  shall  desire  to  carry  a  less  questionable  message," 
answered  Dalgetty.  "  Sir  Duncan  is  not  a  person  to  play  at 
reading  riddles  with." 

"  Craven  Saxon,"  said  the  prisoner,  "  tell  him  I  am  the 
raven  that,  fifteen  years  since,  stooped  on  his  tower  of  strength 
and  the  pledges  he  had  left  there  ;  I  am  the  hunter  that 
found  out  the  wolf's  den  on  the  rock  and  destroyed  his  off- 
spring ;  I  am  the  leader  of  the  band  which  surprised  Ar- 
denvohr yesterday  was  fifteen  years,  and  gave  his  four 
children  to  the  sword.  •" 

"Truly,  my  honest  friend,"  said  Dalgetty,  "if  that  is 
your  best  recommendation  to  Sir  Duncan's  favor,  I  would  pre- 
termit my  pleading  thereupon,  in  respect  I  have  observed  that 
even  the  animal  creation  are  incensed  against  those  who  in- 
tromit with  their  offspring  forcibly,  much  more  any  rational 
and  Christian  creatures  who  have  had  violence  done  upon 
their  small  family.  But  I  pray  yon  in  courtesy  to  tell  me 
whether  you  assailed  the  castle  from  the  hillock  called  Drums- 
nab,  whilk  I  uphold  to  be  the  true  point  of  attack,  unless  it 
were  to  be  protected  by  a  sconce." 

"We  ascended  the  cliff  by  ladders  of  withies  or  saplings," 
said  the  prisoner,  "drawn  up  by  an  accomplice  and  clans- 


I 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  253 

man,  who  had  served  six  months  in  the  castle  to  enjoy  tha 
one  night  of  unlimited  vengeance.  The  owl  whooped  around 
us  as  we  hung  betwixt  heaven  and  earth,  the  tide  roared 
against  the  foot  of  the  rock,  and  dashed  asunder  our  skiff  , 
yet  no  man's  heart  failed  him.  In  the  morning  there  waa 
blood  and  ashes  where  there  had  been  peace  and  joy  at  the 
sunset.  "*' 

'^  It  was  a  pretty  camisade,  I  doubt  not,  Eanald  MacEagh 
— a  very  sufficient  onslaught,  and  not  unworthily  discharged. 
Nevertheless,  I  would  have  pressed  the  house  from  that  little 
hillock  called  Drumsnab.  But  yours  is  a  pretty  irregular 
Scythian  fashion  of  warfare,  Kanald,  much  resembling  that 
of  Turks,  Tartars,  and  other  Asiatic  people.  But  the  reason, 
my  friend,  the  cause  of  this  war — the  teterrima  causa,  as  I 
may  say  ?     Deliver  me  that,  Ranald." 

"We  had  been  pushed  at  by  the  M'Aulays  and  other 
western  tribes,"  said  Ranald,  "till  our  possessions  became  un- 
safe for  us." 

"  Ah  ha  I "  said  Dalgetty  ;  "  I  have  faint  remembrance  of 
having  heard  of  that  matter.  Did  you  not  put  bread  and 
cheese  into  a  man's  mouth,  when  he  had  never  a  stomach 
whereunto  to  transmit  the  same  ?  " 

"  You  have  heard,  then,"  said  Ranald,  "  the  tale  of  our 
revenge  on  the  haughty  forester  ?  " 

"I  bethink  me  that  I  have,"  said  Dalgetty,  "  and  that 
not  of  an  old  date.  It  was  a  merry  jest  that,  of  cramming 
the  bread  into  the  dead  man's  mouth,  but  somewhat  too  wild 
and  savage  for  civilized  acceptation,  besides  wasting  the 
good  victuals.  I  have  seen  when,  at  a  siege  or  a  leaguer, 
Ranald,  a  living  soldier  would  have  been  the  better,  Ranald, 
for  that  crust  of  bread  whilk  you  threw  away  on  a  dead, 
pow." 

"  We  were  attacked  by  Sir  Duncan,"  continued  MacEagh, 
"  and  my  brother  was  slain — his  head  was  withering  on  the 
battlements  which  we  scaled  ;  I  vowed  revenge,  and  it  is  a 
vow  I  have  never  broken." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  said  Dalgetty  ;  "  and  every  thoroughbred 
soldier  will  confess  that  revenge  is  a  sweet  morsel  ;  but  in 
what  manner  this  story  will  interest  Sir  Duncan  in  your  justi- 
fication, unless  it  should  move  him  to  intercede  with  the 
Marquis  to  change  the  manner  thereof  from  hanging  or 
simple  suspension  to  breaking  your  limbs  on  the  roue  or 
wheel  with  the  coulter  of  a  plough,  or  otherwise  putting  you 
to  death  by  torture,  surpasses  my  comprehension.  Were  I 
you,  Ranald,  I  would  be  for  miskenning  Sir  Duncan,  keeping 


264  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

my  own  secret,  and  departing  quietly  by  suffocation,  like 
your  ancestors  before  you." 

"Yet  hearken,  stranger,"  said  the  Highlander.  "Sir 
Duncan  of  Ardenvohr  had  four  children.  Three  died  under 
our  dirks,  but  the  fourth  survives  ;  and  more  would  he  give 
to  dandle  on  his  knee  the  fourth  child  which  remains  than  to 
rack  these  old  bones,  which  care  little  for  the  utmost  indul- 
gence of  his  wrath.  One  word,  if  I  list  to  speak  it,  could 
turn  his  day  of  humiliation  and  fasting  into  a  day  of  thank- 
fulness and  rejoicing,  and  breaking  of  bread.  0,  I  know  it 
by  my  own  heart !  Dearer  to  me  is  the  child  Kenneth,  who 
chaseth  the  butterfly  on  the  banks  of  the  Aven,  than  ten  sons 
who  are  mouldering  in  earth  or  are  preyed  on  by  the  fowls  of 
the  air." 

"I  presume,  Kanald,"  continued  Dalgetty,  "that  the 
three  pretty  fellows  whom  I  saw  yonder  in  the  market-place, 
strung  up  by  the  head  like  rizzered  haddocks,  claimed  some 
interest  in  you  ?" 

There  was  a  brief  pause  ere  the  Highlander  replied,  in  a 
tone  of  strong  emotion — "  They  were  my  sons,  stranger — 
they  were  my  sons  !  blood  of  my  blood,  bone  of  my  bone  ! 
fleet  of  foot,  unerring  in  aim,  unvanquished  by  foemen  till 
the  sons  of  Diarmid  overcame  them  by  numbers  !  Why  do  I 
wish  to  survive  them?  The  old  trunk  will  less  feel  the  rend- 
ing up  of  its  roots  than  it  has  felt  the  lopping  off  of  its  grace- 
ful boughs.  But  Kenneth  must  be  trained  to  revenge  :  the 
young  eagle  must  learn  from  the  old  how  to  stoop  on  his  foes. 
I  will  purchase  for  his  sake  my  life  and  my  freedom  by  dis- 
covering my  secret  to  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr." 

"  You  may  attain  your  end  more  easily,"  said  a  third 
voice,  mingling  in  the  conference,  "  by  intrusting  it  to  me." 

All  Highlanders  are  superstitious.  "  The  Enemy  of  Man- 
kind is  among  us  ! "  said  Ranald  MacEagh,  springing  to  his 
feet.  His  chains  clattered  as  he  rose,  while  he  drew  himself 
as  far  as  they  permitted  from  the  quarter  whence  the  voice 
appeared  to  proceed.  His  fear  in  some  degree  communicated 
itself  to  Captain  Dalgetty,  who  began  to  repeat,  in  a  sort  of 
polyglot  gibberish,  all  the  exorcisms  he  had  ever  heard  of,  with- 
out being  able  to  remember  more  than  a  word  or  two  of  each. 

"/w  nomine  Domini,  aa  we  said  at  Marischal  College; 
Santissima  Madre  diDios,  as  the  Spaniard  has  it ;  AUeguten 
Oeister  lohen  den  Herrn,  saith  the  blessed  Psalmist,  in  Dr. 
Luther's  translation " 

"A  truce  with  your  exorcisms,"  said  the  voice  they  liad 
heard  before ;    *^  though  I  come  strangely  among  you,  I  am 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  255 

mortal  like  yourselves,  and  my  assistance  may  avail  you  in 
your  present  strait,  if  you  are  not  too  proud  to  be  counselled/' 

While  the  stranger  thus  spoke,  he  withdrew  the  shade  of 
a  dark  lantern,  by  whose  feeble  light  Dalgetty  could  only  dis- 
cern that  the  speaker  who  had  thus  mysteriously  united  him- 
self to  their  company  and  mixed  in  their  conversation  was  a 
tall  man  dressed  in  a  livery  cloak  of  the  Marquis.  His  first 
glance  was  to  his  feet,  but  he  saw  neither  the  cloven  foot 
which  Scottish  legends  assign  to  the  foul  fiend  nor  the  horse's 
hoof  by  which  he  is  distinguished  in  Germany.  His  first  in- 
quiry was  how  the  stranger  had  come  among  them. 

"For/' said  he,  ''the  creak  of  these  rusty  bars  would 
have  been  heard  had  the  door  been  made  patent ;  and  if  you 
passed  through  the  keyhole,  truly,  sir,  put  what  face  you  will 
on  it,  you  are  not  fit  to  be  enrolled  in  a  regiment  of  living  men." 

''I  reserve  my  secret,"  answered  the  stranger,  "until  you 
shall  merit  the  discovery  by  communicating  to  me  some  of 
yours.  It  may  be  that  I  shall  be  moved  to  let  you  out  where 
I  myself  came  in." 

"  It  cannot  be  through  the  keyhole,  then,"  said  Captain 
Dalgetty,  "  for  my  corselet  would  stick  in  the  passage,  were  it 
possible  that  my  head-piece  could  get  through.  As  for  secrets, 
I  have  none  of  my  own,  and  but  few  appertaining  to  others. 
But  impart  to  us  what  secrets  you  desire  to  know  ;  or,  as 
Professor  Snufflegreek  used  to  say  at  the  Marischal  College, 
Aberdeen,  speak  that  I  may  know  thee." 

"  It  is  not  with  you  I  have  first  to  do,"  replied  the 
stranger,  turning  his  light  full  on  the  wild  and  wasted  features 
and  the  large  limbs  of  the  Highlander,  Ranald  MacEagh,  who, 
close  drawn  up  against  the  walls  of  the  dungeon,  seemed  yet 
uncertain  whether  his  guest  was  a  living  being. 

"  I  have  brought  you  something,  my  friend,*'  said  the 
stranger,  in  a  more  soothing  tone,  "  to  mend  your  fare  ;  if 
you  are  to  die  to-morrow,  it  is  no  reason  wherefore  you  should 
not  live  to-night." 

"  None  at  all — no  reason  in  the  creation,"  replied  the 
ready  Captain  Dalgetty,  who  forthwith  began  to  unpack  the 
contents  of  a  small  basket  which  the  stranger  had  brought 
under  his  cloak,  while  the  Highlander,  either  in  suspicion  or 
disdain,  paid  no  attention  to  the  good  cheer. 

"  Here's  to  thee,  my  friend,"  said  the  Captain,  who, 
having  already  dispatched  a  huge  piece  of  roasted  kid,  was 
now  taking  a  pull  at  the  wine-flask.  "  What  is  thy  name,  my 
good  friend  ?  " 

"Murdoch  Campbell,   sir,"  answered  the    servant,    "a 


366  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

lackey  of  the  Marquis  of  Argyle,  and  occasionally  acting  as 
under  warden/' 

*'  Then  here  is  to  thee  once  more,  Murdoch,"  said  Dalgetty, 
*'  drinking  to  you  by  your  proper  name  for  the  better  luck 
sake.  This  wine  I  take  to  be  Calcavella.  Well,  honest  Mur- 
doch, I  take  it  on  me  to  say,  thou  deservest  to  be  upper  war- 
den, since  thou  showest  thyself  twenty  times  better  acquaint- 
ed with  the  way  of  victualling  honest  gentlemen  that  are 
under  misfortune  than  thy  principal.  Bread  and  water  !  out 
upon  him  !  It  was  enough,  Murdoch,  to  destroy  the  credit  of 
the  Marquis's  dungeon.  But  I  see  you  would  converse  with 
my  friend,  Ranald  MacEagh,  here.  Never  mind  my  presence  ; 
ril  get  me  into  this  corner  with  the  basket,  and  I  will  war- 
rant my  jaws  make  noise  enough  to  prevent  my  ears  from 
hearing  you.'' 

Notwithstanding  this  promise,  however,  the  veteran  lis- 
tened with  all  the  attention  he  could  to  gather  their  discourse, 
or,  as  he  described  it  himself,  ^Haid  his  ears  back  in  his  neck, 
like  Gustavus,  when  he  heard  the  key  turn  in  the  girnel- 
kist."  He  could,  therefore,  owing  to  the  narrowness  of  the 
dungeon,  easily  overhear  the  following  dialogue  : 

"  Are  you  aware.  Son  of  the  Mist,"  said  the  Campbell, 
*'  that  you  will  never  leave  this  place  excepting  for  the  gib- 

"  Those  who  are  dearest  to  me,"  answered  MacEagh, 
*'  have  trod  that  path  before  me." 

'•  Then  you  would  do  nothing,"  asked  the  visitor,  ''to  shun 
following  them  ?  " 

The  prisoner  writhed  himself  in  his  chains  before  return- 
ing an  answer. 

"  I  would  do  much,"  at  length  he  said  ;  "  not  for  my  own 
life,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  pledge  in  the  glen  of  Strath- 
Aven." 

*' And  what  would  you  do  to  turn  away  the  bitterness  of 
the  hour  ?  "  again  demanded  Murdoch.  "  1  care  not  for  what 
cause  ye  mean  to  shun  it." 

"  I  would  do  what  a  man  might  do  and  still  call  himself  a 
man." 

"  Do  you  call  yourself  a  man,"  said  the  interrogator, ''  who 
have  done  the  deeds  of  a  wolf  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  outlaw  ;  "  I  am  a  man  like  my  fore- 
fathers :  while  wrapped  in  the  mantle  of  peace,  we  were  lambs  ; 
it  was  rent  from  us,  and  ye  now  call  us  wolves.  Give  us  the 
huts  ye  have  burned,  our  children  whom  ye  have  murdered, 
our  widows  whom  ye  have  starved  ;  collect  from  the  gibbet  and 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  2Sn 

the  pole  the  mangled  carcasses  and  whitened  skulls  of  onr 
kinsmen  ;  bid  them  live  and  bless  ns,  and  we  will  be  your 
vassals  and  brothers ;  till  then,  let  death  and  blood  and 
mutual  wrong  draw  a  dark  veil  of  division  between  us." 

^^  You  will  then  do  nothing  for  your  liberty  ?''  said  the 
Campbell. 

"  Anything — but  call  myself  the  friend  of  your  tribe/' 
answered  MacEagh. 

^'  We  scorn  the  friendship  of  banditti  and  caterans/'  re- 
torted Murdoch,  "  and  would  not  stoop  to  accept  it.  What  I 
demand  to  know  from  you,  in  exchange  for  your  liberty,  is, 
where  the  daughter  and  heiress  of  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  is 
now  to  be  found  ?  " 

"  That  you  may  wed  her  to  some  beggarly  kinsman  of 
your  great  master,^'  said  Eanald,  '*  after  the  fashion  of  the 
Children  of  Diarmid  !  Does  not  the  valley  of  Glenorquhy, 
to  this  very  hour,  cry  shame  on  the  violence  offered  to  a  help- 
less infant  whom  her  kinsmen  were  conveying  to  the  court  of 
the  Sovereign  ?  Were  not  her  escort  compelled  to  hide  her 
beneath  a  caldron,  round  which  they  fought  till  not  one 
remained  to  tell  the  tale  ?  and  was  not  the  girl  brought  to 
this  fatal  castle,  and  afterwards  wedded  to  the  brother  of 
M^'Callum  More,  and  all  for  the  sake  of  her  broad  lands  ? "  * 

'*^  And  if  the  tale  be  true,"  said  Murdoch,  *'she  had  a 
preferment  beyond  what  the  King  of  Scots  would  have  con- 
ferred on  her.  But  this  is  far  from  the  purpose.  The  daugh- 
ter of  Sir  Duncan  of  Ardenvohr  is  of  our  own  blood,  not  a 
stranger ;  and  who  has  so  good  a  right  to  know  her  fate  as 
M'Callum  More,  the  chief  of  her  clan  ?  " 

'^It  is  on  his  part,  then,  that  you  demand  it  ?"  said  the 
outlaw.     The  domestic  of  the  Marquis  assented. 

"  And  you  will  practise  no  evil  against  the  maiden  ?  I 
have  doLe  her  wrong  enough  already." 

*'No  evil,  upon  the  word  of  a  Christian  man,'' replied 
Murdoch. 

'^And  my  guerdon  is  to  be  life  and  liberty?"  said  the 
Child  of  the  Mist. 

"Such  is  our  paction,"  replied  the  Campbell. 

"  Then  know  that  the  child  whom  I  saved  out  of  compas- 
sion at  the  spoiling  of  her  father's  tower  of  strength  was  bred 
as  an  adopted  daughter  of  our  tribe,  until  we  were  worsted 
at  the  pass  of  Ballenduthil,  by  the  fiend  incarnate  and  mortal 

*  Such  a  story  is  told  of  the  heiress  of  the  clan  of  Calder,  who  was  made  pris. 
oner  in  the  manner  described,  and  afterwards  wedded  to  Sir  Duncan  CampbelL 
from  which  union  the  Campbells  of  Cawdor  have  their  descent. 


258  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

enemy  of  our  tribe,  Allan  M'Aulay  of  the  Bloody  Hand,  and 
by  the  horsemen  of  Lennox,  under  the  heir  of  Menteith." 

"  Fell  she  into  the  power  of  Allan  of  the  Bloody  Hand,^' 
said  Murdoch,  "and  she  a  reputed  daughter  of  thy  tribe? 
Then  her  blood  has  gilded  the  dirk,  and  thou  hast  said  noth- 
ing to  rescue  thine  own  forfeited  life." 

"If  my  life  rests  on  hers,"  answered  the  outlaw,  "it  is 
secure,  for  she  still  survives ;  but  it  has  a  more  insecure  reli- 
ance— the  frail  promise  of  a  son  of  Diarmid." 

"  That  promise  shall  not  fail  you,"  said  the  Campbell,  "  if 
you  can  assure  me  that  she  survives,  and  where  she  is  to  be 
found." 

"In  the  Castle  of  Darnlinvarach,"  said  Kanald  MacEagh, 
"  under  the  name  of  Annot  Lyle.  I  have  often  heard  of  her 
from  my  kinsmen,  who  have  again  approached  their  native 
woods,  and  it  is  not  long  since  mine  old  eyes  beheld  her." 

"  You  !  "  said  Murdoch,  in  astonishment — "  you,  a  chief 
among  the  Children  of  the  Mist,  and  ventured  so  near  your 
mortal  foe  ?  " 

"  Son  of  Diarmid,  I  did  more,"  replied  the  outlaw  :  "  I  was 
in  the  hall  of  the  castle,  disguised  as  a  harper  from  the  wild 
shores  of  Skianach.  My  purpose  was  to  have  plunged  my 
dirk  in  the  body  of  the  M'Aulay  with  the  Bloody  Hand, 
before  whom  our  race  trembles,  and  to  have  taken  thereafter 
what  fate  God  should  send  me.  But  I  saw  Annot  Lyle  even 
when  my  hand  was  on  the  hilt  of  my  dagger.  She  touched 
her  clairshach  to  a  song  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist,  which 
she  had  learned  when  her  dwelling  was  among  us.  The 
woods  in  which  we  had  dwelt  pleasantly  rustled  their  green 
leaves  in  the  song,  and  our  streams  were  there  with  the  sound 
of  all  their  waters.  My  hand  forsook  the  dagger,  the 
fountains  of  mine  eyes  were  opened,  and  the  hour  of  revenge 
passed  away.  And  now.  Son  of  Diarmid,  have  I  not  paid  the 
ransom  of  my  head  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  replied  Murdoch,  "  if  your  tale  be  true  ;  but  what 
proof  can  you  assign  for  it  ?  " 

"  Bear  witness,  heaven  and  earth,"  exclaimed  the  outlaw, 
"  he  already  looks  how  he  may  step  over  his  word  ! " 

"  Kot  so,"  replied  Murdoch  ;  "  every  promise  shall  be  kept 
to  you  when  I  am  assured  you  have  told  me  the  truth.  But  I 
must  speak  a  few  words  with  your  companion  in  captivity." 

"  Fair  and  false — ever  fair  and  false,"  muttered  the 
prisoner,  as  he  tlirew  himself  once  more  on  the  floor  of  his 
dungeon. 

Meanwhile,  Captain  Dalgetty,  who  had  attended  to  every 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  259 

word  of  this  dialogue,  was  making  his  own  remarks  on  it  in 
private.  '*  What  the  henker  can  this  sly  fellow  have  to  say  to 
me  ?  I  have  no  child,  either  of  my  own,  so  far  as  I  know,  or 
of  any  other  person,  to  tell  him  a  tale  about.  But  let  him 
come  on  ;  he  will  have  some  manoeuvring  ere  he  turn  the  flank 
of  the  old  soldier." 

Accordingly,  as  if  he  had  stood  pike  in  hand  to  defend  a 
breach,  he  waited  with  caution,  but  without  fear,  the  com- 
mencement of  the  attack. 

''  You  are  a  citizen  of  the  world.  Captain  Dalgetty,"  said 
Murdoch  Campbell,  "  and  cannot  be  ignorant  of  our  old 
Scotch  proverb,  ^  giff-gaff,'  which  goes  through  all  nations 
and  all  services." 

''Then  I  should  know  something  of  it,"  said  Dalgetty  ; 
''for,  except  the  Turks,  there  are  few  powers  in  Europe  whom 
I  have  not  served  ;  and  I  have  sometimes  thought  of  taking  a 
turn  either  with  Bethlen  Gabor  or  with  the  Janizaries." 

''  A  man  of  your  experience  and  unprejudiced  ideas,  then, 
will  understand  me  at  once,"  said  Murdoch,  "  when  I  say,  I 
mean  that  your  freedom  shall  depend  on  your  true  and  up- 
right answer  to  a  few  trifling  questions  respecting  the  gentle- 
men you  have  left — their  state  of  preparation,  the  number  of 
their  men  and  nature  of  their  appointments,  and  as  much  as 
you  chance  to  know  about  their  plan  of  operations." 

"Just  to  satisfy  your  curiosity,"  said  Dalgetty,  "and 
without  any  farther  purpose  ?  " 

"  None  in  the  world,"  replied  Murdoch.  "  What  interest 
should  a  poor  devil  like  me  take  in  their  operations  ?  " 

"  Make  your  interrogations,  then,"  said  the  Captain, 
"  and  I  will  answer  them  per  emptor  ie" 

"  How  many  Irish  may  be  on  their  march  to  join  James 
Graham,  the  delinquent  ?  " 

"  Probably  ten  thousand,"'^  said  Captain  Dalgetty. 

"  Ten  thousand  ! "  replied  Murdoch,  angrily  ;  "we  know 
that  scarce  two  thousand  landed  at  Ardnamurchan." 

"  Then  you  know  more  about  them  than  I  do,"  answered 
Captain  Dalgetty,  with  great  composure.  "I  never  saw 
them  mustered  yet,  or  even  under  arms." 

"  And  how  many  men  of  the  clans  may  be  expected  ? " 
demanded  Murdoch. 

"  As  many  as  they  can  make,"  replied  the  Captain. 

"You  are  answering  from  the  purpose,  sir,"  said  Mur- 
doch ;  "  speak  plainly,  will  there  be  five  thousand  men  ?" 

"  There  and  thereabouts,"  answered  Dalgetty. 

*'  You  are  playing  with  your  life,  sir,  if  you  trifle  with 


260  WAVERLLY  NOVELS 

me/'  replied  the  catechist  ;  '^  one  whistle  of  mine,  and  in 
less  than  ten  minutes  j^our  head  hangs  on  the  drawbridge/' 

*'  But  to  speak  candidly,  Mr.  Murdoch,"  replied  the  Cap- 
tain, "  do  you  think  it  is  a  reasonable  thing  to  ask  me  after  the 
secrets  of  our  army,  and  I  engaged  to  serve  for  the  whole 
campaign  ?  If  I  taught  you  how  to  defeat  Montrose,  what 
becomes  of  my  pay,  arrears,  and  chance  of  booty  ?  " 

'^  I  tell  you,"  said  Campbell,  ^^that  if  you  be  stubborn, 
your  campaign  shall  begin  and  end  in  a  march  to  the  block 
at  the  castle  gate,  which  stands  ready  for  such  landlaufers ; 
but  if  you  answer  my  questions  faithfully,  I  will  receive  you 
into  my — into  the  service  of  M^Callum  More." 

"Does  the  service  afford  good  pay  ?"  said  Captain  Dal- 
getty. 

"He  will  double  yours,  if  you  will  return  to  Montrose 
and  act  under  his  direction." 

"  I  wish  I  had  seen  you,  sir,  before  taking  on  with  him," 
said  Dalgetty,  appearing  to  meditate. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  can  afford  you  more  advantageous 
terms  now,"  said  the  Campbell ;  "  always  supposing  that  you 
are  faithful." 

"  Faithful,  that  is,  to  you,  and  a  traitor  to  Montrose," 
answered  the  Captain. 

"  Faithful  to  the  cause  of  religion  and  good  order,"  an- 
swered Murdoch,  "  which  sanctifies  any  deception  you  may 
employ  to  serve  it." 

"  And  the  Marquis  of  Argyle — should  I  incline  to  enter 
his  service,  is  he  a  kind  master  ?"  demanded  Dalgetty. 

"  Never  man  kinder,"  quoth  Campbell. 

"And  bountiful  to  his  officers  ?  "  pursued  the  Captain. 

"  The  most  open  hand  in  Scotland,"  replied  Murdoch. 

"  True  and  faithful  to  his  engagements  ? "  continued 
Dalgetty. 

"  As  honorable  a  nobleman  as  breathes,"  said  the  clans- 
man. 

"I  never  heard  so  much  good  of  him  before,"  said  Dal- 
getty ;  "  you  must  know  the  Marquis  well,  or  rather  you  must 
be  the  Marquis  himself  !  Lord  of  Argyle,"  he  added,  throw- 
ing himself  suddenly  on  the  disguised  nobleman,  "  I  arrest 
you  in  the  name  of  King  Charles  as  a  traitor.  If  you  ven- 
ture to  call  for  assistance  I  will  wrench  round  your  neck." 

The  attack  which  Dalgetty  made  upon  Argyle's  person 
was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  he  easily  prostrated  him 
on  the  floor  of  the  dungeon  and  held  him  down  with  one 
hand,  while  his  right,  grasping  the  Marquis's  throat,  was 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  261 

ready  to  strangle  him  on  the  slightest  attempt  to  call  for  as- 
sistance. 

^'  Lord  of  Argyle/^  he  said,  *^  it  is  now  my  turn  to  lay  down 
the  terms  of  capitulation.  If  you  list  to  show  me  the  private 
way  by  which  you  entered  the  dungeon,  you  shall  escape,  on 
condition  of  being  my  locum  teneiis,  as  we  said  at  the  Marischal 
College,  until  your  warder  visits  his  prisoners.  But  if  not,  I 
will  first  strangle  you — I  learned  the  art  from  a  Polonian 
heyduck  who  had  been  a  slave  in  the  Ottoman  seraglio — and 
then  seek  out  a  mode  of  retreat.^' 

'^  Villain  !  you  would  not  murder  me  for  my  kindness," 
murmured  Argyle. 

"  Not  for  your  kindness,  my  lord,"  replied  Dalgetty,  "  but, 
first,  to  teach  your  lordship  the  jus  gentium  towards  cavaliel-s 
who  come  to  you  under  safe-conduct ;  and  secondly,  to  warn 
you  of  the  danger  of  proposing  dishonorable  terms  to  any 
worthy  soldado,  in  order  to  tempt  him  to  become  false  to  his 
standard  during  the  term  of  his  service." 

*^  Spare  my  life,"  said  Argyle,  ''and  I  will  do  as  you 
require." 

Dalgetty  maintained  his  grip  upon  the  Marquises  throat, 
compressing  it  a  little  while  he  asked  questions,  and  relaxing 
it  so  far  as  to  give  him  the  power  of  answering  them. 

''Where  is  the  secret  door  into  the  dungeon? "he  de- 
manded. 

"  Hold  up  the  lantern  to  the  corner  on  your  right  hand, 
you  will  discern  the  iron  which  covers  the  spring,"  replied 
the  Marquis. 

"  So  far  so  good.     "Where  does  the  passage  lead  to  ?  " 

"To  my  private  apartment  behind  the  tapestry,"  answered 
the  prostrate  nobleman. 

"From  thence  how  shall  I  reach  the  gateway  ?" 

"  Through  the  grand  gallery,  the  anteroom,  the  lackeys' 
waiting  hall,  the  grand  guard-room " 

"  AH  crowded  with  soldiers,  factionaries,  and  attendants  ! 
That  will  never  do  for  me,  my  lord  ;  have  you  no  secret  pas- 
sage to  the  gate,  as  you  have  to  your  dungeons  ?  I  have  seen 
such  in  Germany." 

"  There  is  a  passage  through  the  chapel,"  said  the  Mar- 
quis, "  opening  from  my  apartment." 

"  And  what  is  the  password  at  the  gate  ?" 

"  '  The  sword  of  Levi,' "  replied  the  Marquis  ;  "  but  if 
you  will  receive  my  pledge  of  honor,  I  will  go  with  you,  escort 
you  through  every  guard,  and  set  you  at  full  liberty  witti  a 
passport." 


362  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''I  might  trust  you,  my  lord,  were  your  throat  not  already 
black  with  the  grasp  of  my  fingers  ;  as  it  is,  Beso  los  manos 
a  listed,  as  the  Spaniard  says.  Yet  you  may  grant  me  a 
passport ;  are  there  writing  materials  in  your  apartment  ? " 

**  Surely  ;  and  blank  passports  ready  to  be  signed.  I  will 
attend  you  there, ^'  said  the  Marquis,  "  instantly.^' 

"It  were  too  much  honor  for  the  like  of  me,^*  said  Dal- 
getty;  "your  lordship  shall  remain  under  charge  of  mine 
honest  friend  Ranald  MacEagh  ;  therefore,  prithee  let  me 
drag  you  within  reach  of  his  chain.  Hpnest  Ranald,  you  see 
how  matters  stand  with  us.  I  shall  find  the  means,  I  doubt 
not,  of  setting  you  at  freedom.  Meantime,  do  as  you  see  me 
do ;  clap  your  hand  thus  on  the  weasand  of  this  high  and 
mighty  prince,  under  his  ruff,  and  if  he  offer  to  struggle  or 
cry  out,  fail  not,  my  worthy  Ranald,  to  squeeze  doughtily, 
and  if  it  be  ad  deliquium,  Ranald,  that  is,  till  he  swoon, 
there  is  no  great  matter,  seeing  he  designed  your  gullet  and 
mine  to  still  harder  usage.  ^' 

"If  he  offer  at  speech  or  struggle, "said  Ranald,  "he dies 
by  my  hand." 

"  That  is  right,  Ranald,  very  spirited.  A  thoroughgoing 
friend  that  understands  a  hint  is  worth  a  million  ! " 

Thus  resigning  the  charge  of  the  Marquis  to  his  new  con- 
federate, Dalgetty  pressed  the  spring,  by  which  the  secret 
door  flew  open,  though  so  well  were  its  hinges  polished  and 
oiled  that  it  made  not  the  slightest  noise  in  revolving.  The 
opposite  side  of  the  door  was  secured  by  very  strong  bolts 
and  bars,  beside  which  hung  one  or  two  keys,  designed  appar- 
ently to  undo  fetterlocks.  A  narrow  staircase,  ascending  up 
through  the  thickness  of  the  castle  wall,  landed,  as  the  Mar- 
quis had  truly  informed  him,  behind  the  tapestry  of  his  pri- 
vate apartment.  Such  communications  were  frequent  in  old 
feudal  castles,  as  they  gave  the  lord  of  the  fortress,  like  a 
second  Dionysius,  the  means  of  hearing  the  conversation  of 
his  prisoners,  or,  if  he  pleased,  of  visiting  them  in  disguise, 
an  experiment  which  had  terminated  so  unpleasantly  on  the 
present  occasion  for  Gillespie  Grumach.  Having  examined 
previously  whether  there  was  any  one  in  the  apartment,  and 
finding  the  coast  clear,  the  Captain  entered,  and  hastily  pos- 
sessing himself  of  a  blank  passport,  several  of  which  lay  on 
the  table,  and  of  writing  materials,  securing,  at  the  same 
time,  the  Marquis's  dagger  and  a  silk  cord  from  the  hangings, 
he  again  descended  into  the  cavern,  where,  listening  a  mo- 
ment at  the  door,  he  could  hear  the  half-stifled  voice  of  the 
Marquis  making  great  proffers  to  MacEagh,  or  condition  he 
would  suffer  him  to  give  an  alarnL 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  368 

"  Not  for  a  forest  of  deer — ^not  for  a  thousand  head  of 
cattle/'  answered  the  freebooter — ^*not  for  all  the  lands  that 
ever  called  a  Son  of  Diarmid  master,  will  I  break  the  troth  I 
have  plighted  to  him  of  the  iron  garment  ! " 

^*He  of  the  iron  garment,"  said  Dalgetty,  entering,  ''is 
bounden  unto  you,  MacEagh,  and  this  noble  lord  shall  be 
bounden  also ;  but  first  he  must  fill  up  this  passport  with  the 
names  of  Major  Dugald  Dalgetty  and  his  guide,  or  he  is  liks 
to  have  a  passport  to  another  world." 

The  Marquis  subscribed,  and  wrote,  by  the  light  of  the 
dark  lantern,  as  the  soldier  prescribed  to  him. 

''And  now,  Eanald,"  said  Dalgetty,  "strip  thy  upper 
garment — thy  plaid,  I  mean,  Ranald — and  in  it  will  I  muffle 
the  M'Callum  More,  and  make  of  him,  for  the  time,  a  Child 
of  the  Mist.  Nay,  I  must  bring  it  over  your  head,  my  lord, 
so  as  to  secure  us  against  your  mistimed  clamor.  So,  now  he 
is  sufficiently  muffled.  Hold  down  your  hands,  or,  by  Heaven, 
I  will  stab  you  to  the  heart  with  your  own  dagger  !  Nay, 
you  shall  be  bound  with  nothing  less  than  silk,  as  your  qual- 
ity deserves.  So,  now  he  is  secure  till  some  one  comes  to  re- 
lieve him.  If  he  ordered  us  a  late  dinner,  Ranald,  he  is  like 
to  be  the  sufferer ;  at  what  hour,  my  good  Ranald,  did  the 
jailer  usually  appear  ?" 

"Never  till  the  sun  was  beneath  the  western  wave,"  said 
MacEagh. 

"  Then,  my  friend,  we  shall  have  three  hours  good,"  said 
the  cautious  Captain.  "  In  the  mean  time,  let  us  labor  for 
your  liberation." 

To  examine  Ranald's  chain  was  the  next  occupation.  It 
was  undone  by  means  of  one  of  the  keys  which  hung  behind 
the  private  door,  probably  deposited  there  that  the  Marquis 
might,  if  he  pleased,  dismiss  a  prisoner,  or  remove  him 
eJsewhere,  without  the  necessity  of  summoning  the  warden. 
The  outlaw  stretched  his  benumbed  arms  and  bounded 
from  the  floor  of  the  dungeon  in  all  the  ecstasy  of  recovered 
freedom. 

"  Take  the  livery-coat  of  that  noble  prisoner,"  said  Captain 
Dalgetty ;  "put  it  on,  and  follow  close  at  my  heels." 

The  outlaw  obeyed.  They  ascended  the  private  stair,  hav- 
ing first  secured  the  door  behind  them,  and  thus  safely 
reached  the  apartment  of  the  Marquis.  * 

♦  See  Baronial  Espionage.    Note  5. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

This  was  the  entry  then,  these  stairs  ;  but  whither  after? 
Yet  he  that's  sure  to  perish  on  the  land 
May  quit  the  nicety  of  card  and  compass, 
And  trust  the  open  sea  without  a  pilot. 

Tragedy  of  Brennovalt. 

''Look  out  for  the  private  way  through  the  chapel,  Ranald/' 
said  the  Captain,  "  while  I  give  a  hasty  regard  to  these 
matters/' 

Thus  speaking,  he  seized  with  one  hand  a  bundle  of 
Argyle's  most  private  papers,  and  with  the  other  a  purse  of 
gold,  both  of  which  lay  in  a  drawer  of  a  rich  cabinet  which 
stood  invitingly  open.  Neither  did  he  neglect  to  possess  him- 
self of  a  sword  and  pistols,  with  powder-flask  and  balls,  which 
hung  in  the  apartment.  '^  Intelligence  and  booty,''  said  the 
veteran,  as  he  pouched  the  spoils,  *'each  honorable  cavalier 
should  look  to,  the  one  on  his  general's  behalf  and  the  other 
on  his  own.  This  sword  is  an  Andrew  Ferrara,  and  the  pis- 
tols better  than  mine  own.  But  a  fair  exchange  is  no  robbery. 
Soldados  are  not  to  be  endangered,  and  endangered  gratui- 
tously, my  Lord  of  Argyle.  But  soft,  soft,  Ranald  ;  wise  Man 
of  the  Mist,  whither  art  thou  bound  ?  " 

It  was  indeed  full  time  to  stop  MacEagh's  proceedings ; 
for,  not  finding  the  private  passage  readily,  and  impatient,  it 
would  seem,  of  farther  delay,  he  had  caught  down  a  sword 
and  target,  and  was  about  to  enter  the  great  gallery,  with  the 
purpose,  doubtless,  of  fighting  his  way  through  all  opposition. 

''Hold,  while  you  live,"  whispered  Dalgetty,  laying  hold 
on  him.  "  We  must  lie  perdue,  if  possible.  So  bar  we  this 
door,  that  it  may  be  thought  M'Callum  More  would  be  private  ; 
and  now  let  me  make  a  reconnaissance  for  the  private 
passage." 

By  looking  behind  the  tapestry  in  various  places,  the 
Captain  at  length  discovered  a  private  door,  and  behind  that 
a  winding  passage,  terminated  by  another  door,  which  doubt- 
less entered  the  chapel.  But  what  was  his  disagreeable  sur- 
prise to  hear,  on  the  other  side  of  this  second  door,  the 
sonorous  voice  of  a  divine  in  the  act  of  preaching. 


Cf 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  265 

''This  made  the  villain/'  he  said,  "recommend  this  to 
ns  as  a  private  passage.  I  am  strongly  tempted  to  return  and 
cnt  his  throat/' 

He  then  opened  very  gently  the  door,  which  led  into  a 
latticed  gallery  used  by  the  Marquis  himself,  the  curtains  of 
which  were  drawn,  perhaps  with  the  purpose  of  having  it 
supposed  that  he  was  engaged  in  attendance  upon  divine 
worship,  when,  in  fact,  he  was  absent  upon  his  secular  affairs. 
There  was  no  other  person  in  the  seat ;  for  the  family  of  the 
Marquis — such  was  the  high  state  maintained  in  those  days — 
sat  during  service  in  another  gallery,  placed  somewhat  lower 
than  that  of  the  great  man  himself.  This  being  the  case. 
Captain  Dalgetty  ventured  to  ensconce  himself  in  the  gallery, 
of  which  he  carefully  secured  the  door. 

Never  (although  the  expression  be  a  bold  one)  was  a  ser- 
mon listened  to  with  more  impatience  and  less  edification,  on 
the  part  of  one,  at  least,  of  the  audience.  The  Captain  heard 
'' sixteenthly,''  "  seven  teen  thly,''  ''eighteenthly,''  and ''to 
conclude,"  with  a  sort  of  feeling  like  protracted  despair.  But 
no  man  can  lecture  (for  the  service  was  called  a  lecture)  for- 
ever ;  and  the  discourse  was  at  length  closed,  the  clergyman 
not  failing  to  make  a  profound  bow  towards  the  lattieed  gal- 
lery, little  suspecting  whom  he  honored  by  that  reverence. 
To  judge  from  the  haste  with  which  they  dispersed,  the  do- 
mestics of  the  Marquis  were  scarce  more  pleased  with  their 
late  occupation  than  the  anxious  Captain  Dalgetty  ;  indeed, 
many  of  them  being  Highlandmen,  had  the  excuse  of  not 
understanding  a  single  word  which  the  clergyman  spoke,  al- 
though they  gave  their  attendance  on  his  doctrine  by  the 
special  order  of  M'Callum  More,  and  would  have  done  so  had 
the  preacher  been  a  Turkish  imaum. 

But  although  the  congregation  dispersed  thus  rapidly,  the 
divine  remained  behind  in  the  chapel,  and,  walking  up  and 
down  its  Gothic  precincts,  seemed  either  to  be  meditating  on 
what  he  had  just  been  delivering  or  preparing  a  fresh  dis- 
course for  the  next  opportunity.  Bold  as  he  was,  Dalgetty 
hesitated  what  he  ought  to  do.  Time,  however,  pressed,  and 
every  moment  increased  the  chance  of  their  escape  being  dis- 
covered by  the  jailer  visiting  the  dungeon  perhaps  before  his 
wonted  time,  and  discovering  the  exchange  which  had  been 
made  there.  At  length,  whispering  Ranald,  who  watched  all 
his  motions,  to  follow  him  and  preserve  his  countenance. 
Captain  Dalgetty,  with  a  very  composed  air,  descended  a 
flight  of  steps  which  led  from  the  gallery  into  the  body  of  the 
chapel.     A  less  experienced  adventurer  would  have  endeav- 


266  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ored  to  pass  tlie  worthy  clergyman  rapidly,  in  nopes  to  escape 
unnoticed.  But  the  Captain,  who  foresaw  the  manifest  dan- 
ger of  failing  in  such  an  attempt,  walked  gravely  to  meet  the 
divine  upon  his  walk  in  the  midst  of  the  chancel,  and,  pull- 
ing off  his  cap,  was  about  to  pass  him  after  a  formal  rev- 
erence. But  what  was  his  surprise  to  view  in  the  preacher 
the  very  same  person  with  whom  he  had  dined  in  the  castle 
of  Ardenvohr!  Yet  he  speedily  recovered  his  composure; 
and,  ere  the  clergyman  could  speak,  was  the  first  to  address 
him.  "I  could  not,^'  he  said,  'Meave  this  mansion  without 
bequeathing  to  you,  my  very  reverend  sir,  my  humble  thanks 
for  the  homily  with  Avhich  you  have  this  evening  favored  us.^' 

"I  did  not  observe,  sir,"  said  the  clergyman,  *'  that  you 
were  in  the  chapel." 

'*  It  pleased  the  honorable  Marquis,"  said  Dalgetty, 
modestly,  '^  to  grace  me  with  a  seat  in  his  own  gallery." 
The  divine  bowed  low  at  this  intimation,  knowing  that  such 
an  honor  was  only  vouchsafed  to  persons  of  very  high  rank. 
"It  has  been  my  fate,  sir,"  said  the  Captain,  "in  the  sort  of 
wandering  life  which  I  have  led,  to  have  heard  different 
preachers  of  different  religions — as,  for  example,  Lutheran, 
Evangelical,  Keformed,  Calvinistical,  and  so  forth — but 
never  have  I  listened  to  such  a  homily  as  yours." 

"  Call  it  a  lecture,  worthy  sir,"  said  the  divine,  "  such  is 
the  phrase  of  our  church." 

"Lecture  or  homily,"  said  Dalgetty,  "it  was,  as  the  High 
Germans  say,  ganz  fortrefiich ;  and  I  could  not  leave  this 
place  without  testifying  unto  you  what  inward  emotions  I 
nave  undergone  during  your  edifying  prelection  ;  and  how 
I  am  touched  to  the  quick,  that  I  should  yesterday,  during 
the  refection,  have  seemed  to  infringe  on  the  respect  due  to 
such  a  person  as  yourself." 

"  Alas  !  my  worthy  sir,"  said  the  clergyman,  "  we  meet 
in  this  world  as  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  not 
knowing  against  whom  we  may  chance  to  encounter.  In 
truth,  it  is  no  matter  of  marvel  if  we  sometimes  jostle  those 
to  whom,  if  known,  we  would  yield  all  respect.  Surely,  sir, 
I  would  rather  have  taken  you  for  a  profane  malignant  than 
for  such  a  devout  person  as  you  prove,  who  reverences  the 
great  Master  even  in  the  meanest  of  His  servants." 

"'  It  is  always  my  custom  to  do  so,  learned  sir,"  answered 
Dalgetty  ;  "  for  in  the  service  of  the  immortal  Gustavus — but  I 
detain  you  from  your  meditations,"  his  desire  to  speak  of  the 
King  of  Sweden  being  for  once  overpowered  by  the  necessity 
of  his  circumstances. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  267 

"By  no  means,  my  worthy  sir/^  said  the  clergyman. 
"  What  was,  I  pray  you,  the  order  of  that  great  prince,  whose 
memory  is  so  dear  to  every  Protestant  bosom  ? '' 

"  Sir,  the  drums  beat  to  prayers  morning  and  evening  as 
regularly  as  for  parade  ;  and  if  a  soldier  passed  without  salu- 
ting the  chaplain,  he  had  an  hour^s  ride  on  the  wooden  mare 
for  his  pains.  Sir,  I  wish  you  a  very  good-evening,  I  am 
obliged  to  depart  the  castle  under  M'Callum  More's  pass- 
port/' 

"  Stay  one  instant,  sir/'  said  the  preacher ;  ''is  there 
nothir.g  I  can  do  to  testify  my  respect  for  the  pupil  of  the 
great  Gustavus,  and  so  admirable  a  judge  of  preaching  ?  " 

"Nothing,  sir,''  said  the  Captain,"  but  to  show  me  the 
nearest  way  to  the  gate  ;  and  if  you  would  have  the  kind- 
ness," he  added,  with  great  eff rontery, "  to  let  a  servant  bring 
my  horse  with  him,  the  dark  gray  gelding — call  him  Gusta- 
vus, and  he  will  prick  up  his  ears — for  I  know  not  where  the 
castle  stables  are  situated,  and  my  guide,"  he  added,  looking 
at  Ranald,  "  speaks  no  English." 

"  I  hasten  to  accommodate  you,"  said  the  clergyman:  •'  your 
way  lies  through  that  cloistered  passage." 

"Now,  Heaven's  blessing  upon  your  vanity  !"  said  the 
Captain  to  himself.  "  I  was  afraid  I  would  have  had  to 
march  off  without  Gustavus." 

In  fact,  so  effectually  did  the  chaplain  exert  himself  in 
behalf  of  so  excellent  a  judge  of  composition,  that,  while 
Dalgetty  was  parleying  with  the  sentinels  at  the  drawbridge, 
showing  his  passport,  and  giving  the  watchword,  a  servant 
brought  him  his  horse,  ready  saddled  for  the  journey.  In 
another  place  the  Captain's  sudden  appearance  at  large  after 
having  been  publicly  sent  to  prison  might  have  excited  sus- 
picion and  inquiry  ;  but  the  officers  and  domestics  of  the 
Marquis  were  accustomed  to  the  mysterious  policy  of  their 
master,  and  never  supposed  aught  else  than  that  he  had  been 
liberated  and  intrusted  with  some  private  commission  by  their 
master.  In  this  belief,  and  having  received  the  parole,  they 
gave  liim  free  passage. 

Dalgetty  rode  slowly  through  the  town  of  Inverary,  the 
outlaw  attending  upon  him  like  a  foot-page  at  his  horse's 
shoulder.  As  they  passed  the  gibbet,  the  old  man  looked  on 
the  bodies  and  wrung  his  hands.  The  look  and  gesture  were 
momentary,  but  expressive  of  indescribable  anguish.  Instantly 
recovering  himself,  Ranald,  in  passing,  whispered  somewhat 
to  one  of  the  females,  who,  like  Rizpah  the  daughter  of  Aiah, 
seemed  engaged  in  watching  and  mourning  the  victims  of 


268  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

feudal  injustice  and  cruelty.  The  woman  started  at  his  voice, 
but  immediately  collected  herself,  and  returned  for  answer  a 
slight  inclination  of  the  head. 

Dalgetty  continued  his  way  out  of  the  town,  uncertain 
whether  he  should  try  to  seize  or  hire  a  boat  and  cross  the 
lake,  or  plunge  into  the  woods,  and  there  conceal  himself  from 
pursuit.  In  the  former  event  he  was  liable  to  be  instantly 
pursued  by  the  galleys  of  the  Marquis,  which  lay  ready  for  sail- 
ing, their  long  yard-arms  pointing  to  the  wind,  and  what  hope 
could  he  have  in  an  ordinary  Highland  fishing-boat  to  escape 
from  them  ?  If  he  made  the  latter  choice,  his  chance  either 
of  supporting  or  concealing  himself  in  those  waste  and  un- 
known wildernesses  was  in  the  highest  degree  precarious. 
The  town  lay  now  behind  him,  yet  what  hand  to  turn  to  for 
safety  he  was  unable  to  determine,  and  began  to  be  sensible 
that,  in  escaping  from  the  dungeon  at  Inverary,  desperate  as 
the  matter  seemed,  he  had  only  accomplished  the  easiest  part 
of  a  difficult  task.  If  retaken,  his  fate  was  now  certain ;  for 
the  personal  injury  he  had  offered  to  a  man  so  powerful  and 
BO  vindictive  could  be  atoned  for  only  by  instant  death.  While 
he  pondered  these  distressing  reflections,  and  looked  around 
with  a  countenance  which  plainly  expressed  indecision,  Ranald 
MacEagh  suddenly  asked  him,  "  which  way  he  intended  to 
journey  ?  '^ 

*'  And  that,  honest  comrade/^  answered  Dalgetty,  "  is  pre- 
cisely the  question  which  I  cannot  answer  you.  Truly  I  begin 
to  hold  the  opinion,  Ranald,  that  we  had  better  have  stuck  by 
the  brown  loaf  and  water-pitcher  until  Sir  Duncan  arrived, 
who,  for  his  own  honor,  must  have  made  some  fight  for  me.^' 

"  Saxon,"  answered  MacEagh,  "  do  not  regret  having  ex- 
changed the  foul  breath  of  yonder  dungeon  for  the  free  air  of 
heaven.  Above  all,  repent  not  that  you  have  served  a  Son  of 
the  Mist.  Put  yourself  under  my  guidance,  and  I  will  war- 
rant your  safety  with  my  head." 

*'  Can  you  guide  me  safe  through  those  mountains,  and 
back  to  the  army  of  Montrose  ?  "  said  Dalgetty. 

"I  can,"  answered  MacEagh  ;  ''there  lives  not  a  man  to 
whom  the  mountain  passes,  the  caverns,  the  glens,  the 
thickets,  and  the  corries  are  known  as  they  are  to  the 
Children   of  the    Mist.     While   others   crawl   on  the  level 

f  round,  by  the  sides  of  lakes  and  streams,  ours  are  the  steep 
ollows  of  the  inaccessible  mountains,  the  birthplace  of  the 
desert  springs.  Not  all  the  bloodhounds  of  Argyle  can  trace 
the  fastnesses  through  which  I  can  guide  you." 

'^Sa/st  thou   so,   honest    Ranald  ?"  replied  Dalgetty  j 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  26» 

''  then  have  on  with  thee  ;  for  of  a  surety  I  shall  never  save 
the  ship  by  my  own  pilotage/^ 

The  outlaw  accordingly  led  the  way  into  the  wood  by 
which  the  castle  is  surrounded  for  several  miles,  walking  with 
so  much  dispatch  as  kept  Gustavus  at  a  round  trot,  and  tak- 
ing such  a  number  of  cross  cuts  and  turns  that  Captain  Dal- 
getty  speedily  lost  all  idea  where  he  might  be,  and  all 
knowledge  of  the  points  of  the  compass.  At  length 
the  path  which  had  gradually  become  more  difficult,  alto- 
gether ended  among  thickets  and  underwood.  The  roaring 
of  a  torrent  was  heard  in  the  neighborhood  ;  the  ground  be- 
came in  some  places  broken,  in  others  boggy,  and  everywhere 
unfit  for  riding. 

^'  What  the  foul  fiend,''  said  Dalgetty,  '^Ms  to  be  done 
here  ?     I  must  part  with  Gustavus,  I  fear.'' 

"Take  no  care  for  your  horse,"  said  the  outlaw  ;  "he 
shall  soon  be  restored  to  you." 

As  he  spoke,  he  whistled  in  a  low  tone,  and  a  lad,  half- 
dressed  in  tartan,  half-naked,  having  only  his  own  shaggy 
hair,  tied  with  a  thong  of  leather,  to  protect  his  head  and 
face  from  sun  and  weather,  lean  and  half-starved  in  aspect, 
his  wild  gray  eyes  appearing  to  fill  up  ten  times  the  propor- 
tion usually  allotted  to  them  in  the  human  face,  crept  out, 
as  a  wild  beast  might  have  done,  from  a  thicket  of  brambles 
and  briers. 

"  Give  your  horse  to  the  gillie,"  said  Kanald  MacEagh  ; 
"  your  life  depends  upon  it." 

"  Och  !  och  ! "  exclaimed  the  despairing  veteran.  "  Eheu  * 
as  we  used  to  say  at  Marischal  College,  must  I  leave  Gustavus 
in  such  grooming  ?  " 

"Are  you  frantic,  to  lose  time  thus?  "said  his  guide. 
"Do  we  stand  on  friend's  ground,  that  you  should  part  with 
your  horse  as  if  he  were  your  brother  "^  I  tell  you,  you  shall 
have  him  again  ;  but  if  you  never  saw  the  animal,  is  not  life 
better  than  the  best  colt  ever  mare  foaled  ?  " 

"And  that  is  true  too,  mine  honest  friend,"  sighed  Dal- 
getty; "yet  if  you  knew  but  the  value  of  Gustavus,  and  the 
things  we  two  have  done  and  suffered  together.  See,  he 
turns  back  to  look  at  me  !  Be  kind  to  him,  my  good  breech- 
less  friend,  and  I  will  requite  you  well."  So  saying,  and 
withal  sniffling  a  little  to  swallow  his  grief,  he  turned  from 
the  heartrending  spectacle  in  order  to  follow  his  guide. 

To  follow  his  guide  was  no  easy  matter,  and  soon  required 
more  agility  than  Captain  Dalgetty  could  muster.  The  very 
first  plunge  after  he  had  parted  from  his  charger  carried  him. 


270  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

with  little  assistance  from  a  few  overhanging  bonghs  or  pro- 
jecting roots  of  trees,  eight  foot  sheer  down  into  the  course 
of  a  torrent,  up  which  the  Son  of  the  Mist  led  the  way. 
Huge  stones,  over  which  they  scrambled ;  thickets  of  thorn 
and  brambles,  through  which  they  had  to  drag  themselves  ; 
rocks  which  were  to  be  climbed  on  the  one  side  with  much 
labor  and  pain,  for  the  purpose  of  an  equally  precarious  de- 
scent upon  the  other  ;  all  these,  and  many  such  interruptions, 
were  surmounted  by  the  light-footed  and  half-naked  moun- 
taineer with  an  ease  and  velocity  which  excited  the  surprise 
and  envy  of  Captain  Dalgetty,  who,  encumbered  by  his  head- 
piece, corselet,  and  other  armor,  not  to  mention  his  ponderous 
jack-boots,  found  himself  at  length  so  much  exhausted  by 
fatigue  and  the  difficulties  of  the  road  that  he  sat  down  upon 
a  stone  in  order  to  recover  his  breath,  while  he  explained  to 
Ranald  MacEagh  the  difference  betwixt  travelling  expeditus 
and  ivipeditus,  as  these  two  military  phrases  were  understood 
at  Marischal  College,  Aberdeen.  The  sole  answer  of  the 
mountaineer  was  to  lay  his  hand  on  the  soldier's  arm  and 
point  backward  in  the  direction  of  the  wind.  Dalgetty  could 
spy  nothing,  for  evening  was  closing  fast  and  they  were  at 
the  bottom  of  a  dark  ravine.  But  at  length  he  could  dis- 
tinctly hear  at  a  distance  the  solemn  toll  of  a  large  bell. 

*'  That,"  said  he,  '^  must  be  the  alarm — the  storm-clock, 
as  the  Germans  call  it." 

''It  strikes  the  hour  of  your  death,"  answered  Ranald, 
"  unless  you  can  accompany  me  a  little  farther.  For  every 
toll  of  that  bell  a  brave  man  has  yielded  up  his  soul." 

"  Truly,  Ranald,  my  trusty  friend,"  said  Dalgetty,  "  I 
will  not  deny  that  the  case  may  be  soon  my  own  ;  for  I  am  so 
forfoughten — being,  as  I  explained  to  you,  impeditus ;  for 
had  I  been  expeditus,  I  mind  not  pedestrian  exercise  the 
flourish  of  a  fife — that  I  think  I  had  better  ensconce  myself 
in  one  of  these  bushes  and  -even  lie  quiet  there  to  abide  what 
fortune  God  shall  send  me.  I  entreat  you,  mine  honest 
friend  Ranald,  to  shift  for  yourself,  and  leave  me  to  my 
fortune,  as  the  Lion  of  the  North,  the  immortal  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  my  never-to-be-forgotten  master — whom  you  must 
surely  have  heard  of,  Ranald,  though  you  may  have  heard  of 
no  one  else — said  to  Francis  Albert,  Duke  of  Saxe-Lauen- 
burgh,  when  he  was  mortally  wounded  on  the  plains  of  Lut- 
zen.  Neither  despair  altogether  of  my  safety,  Ranald,  seeing 
I  have  been  in  as  great  pinches  as  this  in  Germany ;  more 
especially,  I  remember  me,  that  at  the  fatal  battle  of  Nerling 
— after  which  I  changed  service " 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  271 

''If  yon  would  save  your  father^s  son's  breath  to  help  his 
child  out  of  trouble,  instead  of  wasting  it  upon  the  tales  of 
seannachies/'  said  Ranald,  who  now  grew  impatient  of  the 
Captain's  loquacity,  ^^or  if  your  feet  could  travel  as  fast  as 
your  tongue,  you  might  yet  lay  your  head  on  an  unbloody 
pillow  to-night/' 

''  Something  there  is  like  military  skill  in  that,"  replied  the 
Captain,  '^  although  wantonly  and  irreverently  spoken  to  an 
officer  of  rank.  But  I  hold  it  good  to  pardon  such  freedoms 
on  a  march,  in  respect  of  the  Saturnalian  license  indulged  in 
such  cases  to  the  troops  of  all  nations.  And  now,  resume 
thine  office,  friend  Ranald,  in  respect  I  am  well-breathed,  or, 
to  be  more  plain,  I prcB,  sequar,  as  we  used  to  say  at  Mari- 
schal  College." 

Comprehending  his  meaning  rather  from  his  motions  than 
his  language,  the  Son  of  the  Mist  again  led  the  way,  with  an 
unerring  precision  that  looked  like  instinct,  through  a 
variety  of  ground  the  most  difficult  and  broken  that  could 
well  be  imagined.  Dragging  along  his  ponderous  boots,  en- 
cumbered with  thigh-pieces,  gauntlets,  corselet,  and  back- 
piece,  not  to  mention  the  buff  jerkin  which  he  wore  under  all 
these  arms,  talking  of  his  former  exploits  the  whole  way, 
though  Ranald  paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to  him,  Cap- 
tain Dalgetty  contrived  to  follow  his  guide  a  considerable 
space  farther,  when  the  deep-mouthed  baying  of  a  hound 
was  heard  coming  down  the  wind,  as  if  opening  on  the 
scent  of  its  prey. 

''Black  hound,"  said  Ranald,  '' whose  throat  never  boded 
good  to  a  Child  of  the  Mist,  ill  fortune  to  her  who  littered 
thee  !  hast  thou  already  found  our  trace  ?  But  thou  art  too 
late,  swart  hound  of  darkness,  and  the  deer  has  gained  the 
herd." 

So  saying,  he  whistled  very  softly,  and  was  answered  in  a 
tone  equally  low  from  the  top  of  a  pass,  up  which  they  had  for 
some  time  been  ascending.  Mending  their  pace,  they  reached 
the  top,  where  the  moon,  which  had  now  risen  bright  and 
clear,  showed  to  Dalgetty  a  party  of  ten  or  twelve  Highlanders, 
and  about  as  many  women  and'  children,  by  whom  Ranald 
MacEagh  was  received  with  such  transports  of  joy  as  made  his 
companion  easily  sensible  that  those  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded must  of  course  be  Children  of  the  Mist.  The  place 
which  they  occupied  well  suited  their  name  and  habits.  It 
was  a  beetling  crag,  round  which  winded  a  very  narrow  and 
broken  footpath,  commanded  in  various  places  by  the  posi- 
tion which  they  held. 


372  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Ranald  spoke  anxiously  and  hastily  to  the  children  of  his 
tribe,  and  the  men  came  one  by  one  to  shake  hands  with  Dal- 
getty,  while  the  women,  clamorous  in  their  gratitude,  pressed 
round  to  kiss  even  the  hem  of  his  garment. 

"  They  plight  their  faith  to  you,''  said  Ranald  MacEagh, 
^'  for  requital  of  the  good  deed  yoa  have  done  to  the  tribe 
this  day/' 

'^ Enough  said,  Ranald,"  answered  the  soldier — '^''enough 
said.  Tell  them  I  love  not  this  shaking  of  hands — it  confuses 
ranks  and  degrees  in  military  service  ;  and  as  to  kissing  of 
gauntlets,  puldrons,  and  the  like,  I  remember  that  the  im- 
mortal Gustavus,  as  he  rode  through  the  streets  of  Nurem- 
berg, being  thus  worshipped  by  the  populace — being  doubtless 
far  more  worthy  of  it  than  a  poor  though  honorable  cavalier 
like  myself — did  say  unto  them,  in  the  way  of  rebuke,  ''  If  you 
idolize  me  thus  like  a  god,  who  shall  assure  you  that  the  venge- 
ance of  Heaven  will  not  soon  prove  me  to  be  a  mortal  ?" 
And  so  here,  I  suppose,  you  intend  to  make  a  stand  against 
your  followers,  Ranald — voto  a  Dios,  as  the  Spaniard  says  ? 
A  very  pretty  position,  as  pretty  a  position  for  a  small  peloton 
of  men  as  I  have  seen  in  my  service  ;  no  enemy  can  come 
towards  it  by  the  road  without  being  at  the  mercy  of  cannon 
and  musket.  But  then,  Ranald,  my  trusty  comrade,  you  have 
no  cannon,  I  dare  to  aver,  and  I  do  not  see  that  any  of  these 
fellows  have  muskets  either.  So  with  what  artillery  you  pro- 
pose making  good  the  pass,  before  you  come  to  hand  blows, 
truly,  Ranald,  it  passeth  my  apprehension." 

^'  With  the  weapons  and  with  the  courage  of  our  fathers," 
said  MacEagh  ;  and  made  the  Captain  observe  that  the  men 
of  his  party  were  armed  with  bows  and  arrows. 

"  Bows  and  arrows  ! "  exclaimed  Dalgetty  ;  "  ha  !  ha  !  ha  I 
have  we  Robin  Hood  and  Little  John  back  again  ?  Bows 
and  arrows !  why,  the  sight  has  not  been  seen  in  civilized 
war  for  a  hundred  years.  Bows  and  arrows  !  and  why  not 
weavers'  beams,  as  in  the  days  of  Goliah  ?  Ah  !  that  Dugald 
Dalgetty  of  Drumthwacket  should  live  to  see  men  fight  with 
bows  and  arrows  !  The  immortal  Gustavus  would  never  have 
believed  it,  nor  Wallensteiii,  nor  Butler,  nor  old  Tilly. 
Well,  Ranald,  a  cat  can  have  but  its  claws  ;  since  bows  and 
arrows  are  the  word,  e'en  let  us  make  the  best  of  it.  Only, 
as  I  do  not  understand  the  scope  and  range  of  such  old- 
fashioned  artillery,  you  must  mak:e  the  best  disposition  you 
can  out  of  your  own  head  ;  for  mv  taking  the  command, 
whilk  I  would  have  gladly  done  haa  you  been  to  fight  with 
any  Christian  weapons,  is  out  of  the  question  when  you  are 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  278 

to  combat  like  quivered  Numidians.  I  will,  however,  play 
my  part  with  my  pistols  in  the  approaching  melee,  in  respect 
my  carabine  unhappily  remains  at  Gustavus's  saddle.  My 
service  and  thanks  to  you,"  he  continued,  addressing  a  moun- 
taineer who  offered  him  a  bow  ;  Dugald  Dalgetty  may  say  of 
himself,  as  he  learned  at  Marischal  College — 

Non  eget  Mauris  jacuhs,  neque  arcu, 
Nee  venenatis  gravida  sagittis, 
Fusee,  pharetra; 

whilk  is  to  say " 

Ranald  MacEagh  a  second  time  imposed  silence  on  the 
talkative  commander  as  before,  by  pulling  his  sleeve  and 
pointing  down  the  pass.  The  bay  of  the  bloodhound  was 
now  approaching  nearer  and  nearer,  and  they  could  hear  the 
voices  of  several  persons  who  accompanied  the  animal,  and 
hallooed  to  each  other  as  they  dispersed  occasionally,  either 
in  the  hurry  of  their  advance  or  in  order  to  search  more  ac- 
curately the  thickets  as  they  came  along.  They  were  ob- 
viously drawing  nearer  and  nearer  every  moment.  MacEagh 
in  the  mean  time,  proposed  to  Captain  Dalgetty  to  disen- 
cumber himself  of  his  armor,  and  gave  him  to  understand 
that  the  women  should  transport  it  to  a  place  of  safety. 

''I  crave  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  Dalgetty,  **such  is  not 
the  rule  of  our  foreign  service ;  in  respect  I  remember  the 
regiment  of  Finland  cuirassiers  reprimanded,  and  their  ket- 
tle-drums taken  from  them,  by  the  immortal  Gustavus,  be- 
cause they  had  assumed  the  permission  to  march  without 
their  corselets,  and  to  leave  them  with  the  baggage.  Neither 
did  they  strike  kettle-drums  again  at  the  head  of  that  fa- 
mous regiment  until  they  behaved  themselves  so  notably  at  the 
field  of  Leipsic ;  a  lesson  whilk  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  any 
more  than  that  exclamation  of  the  immortal  Gustavus,  *  Now, 
shall  I  know  if  my  officers  love  me,  by  their  putting  on  their 
armor ;  since,  if  my  officers  are  slain,  who  shall  lead  my  sol- 
diers into  victory  ? '  Nevertheless,  friend  Ranald,  this  is 
without  prejudice  to  my  being  rid  of  these  somewhat  heavy 
boots,  providing  I  can  obtain  any  other  succedaneum  ;  for  I 
presume  not  to  say  that  my  bare  soles  are  fortified  so  as  to 
endure  the  flints  and  thorns,  as  seems  to  be  the  case  with 
your  followers." 

To  rid  the  Captain  of  his  cumbrous  greaves  and  case  his 
feet  in  a  pair  of  brogues  made  out  of  deerskin,  which  a  High- 
lander stripped  off  for  his  accommodation,  was  the  work  of  a 
minute,  and  Dalgetty  found  himself  much  lightened  by  the 
exchange.     He  was  in  the  act  of  recommending  to  Ranald 


274  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

MacEagh  to  send  two  or  three  of  his  followers  a  little  lower 
to  reconnoitre  the  pass,  and,  at  the  same  time,  somewhat  to 
extend  his  front,  placing  two  detached  archers  at  each  flank 
by  way  of  posts  of  observation,  when  the  near  cry  of  the 
hound  apprised  them  that  the  pursuers  were  at  the  bottom 
of  the  pass.  All  was  then  dead  silence  ;  for,  loquacious  as  he 
was  on  other  occasions,  Captain  Dalgetty  knew  well  the  ne- 
cessity of  an  ambush  keeping  itself  under  covert. 

The  moon  gleamed  on  the  broken  pathway  and  on  the 
projecting  cliffs  of  rock  round  which  it  winded,  its  light  in- 
tercepted here  and  there  by  the  branches  of  bushes  and 
dwarf  trees,  which,  finding  nourishment  in  the  crevices  of 
the  rocks,  in  some  places  overshadowed  the  brow  and  ledge 
of  the  precipice.  Below,  a  thick  copsewood  lay  in  deep  and 
dark  shadow  somewhat  resembling  the  billows  of  a  half-seen 
ocean.  From  the  bosom  of  that  darkness,  and  close  to  the 
bottom  of  the  precipice,  the  hound  was  heard  at  intervals 
baying  fearfully,  sounds  which  were  redoubled  by  the  echoes 
of  the  woods  and  rocks  around.  At  intervals  these  sunk  into 
deep  silence,  interrupted  only  by  the  plashing  noise  of  a 
small  runnel  of  water,  which  partly  fell  from  the  rock, 
partly  found  a  more  silent  passage  to  the  bottom  along  its 
projecting  surface.  Voices  of  men  were  also  heard  in  stifled 
converse  below  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  pursuers  had  not  discov- 
ered the  narrow  path  which  led  to  the  top  of  the  rock,  or 
that,  having  discovered  it,  the  peril  of  the  ascent,  joined  to 
the  imperfect  light  and  the  uncertainty  whether  it  might  not 
be  defended,  made  them  hesitate  to  attempt  it. 

At  length  a  shadowy  figure  was  seen,  which  raised  itself 
up  from  the  abyss  of  darkness  below,  and,  emerging  into  the 
pale  moonlight,  began  cautiously  and  slowly  to  ascend  the 
rocky  path.  The  outline  was  so  distinctly  marked  that 
Captain  Dalgetty  could  discover  not  only  the  person  of  a 
Highlander,  but  the  long  gun  which  he  carried  in  his  hand, 
and  the  plume  of  feathers  which  decorated  his  bonnet, 
**  Tausend  te^Jlen!  that  I  should  say  so,  and  so  like  to  be 
near  my  latter  end  ! "  ejaculated  the  Captain,  but  under  his 
breath,  **  what  will  become  of  us  now  they  have  brought  mus- 
ketry to  encounter  our  archers  ?  " 

But  just  as  the  pursuer  had  attained  a  projecting  piece  of 
rock  aoout  half-way  up  the  ascent,  and,  pausing,  made  a  sig- 
nal for  those  who  were  still  at  the  bottom  to  follow  him,  an 
arrow  whistled  from  the  bow  of  one  of  the  Children  of  the 
Mist,  and  transfixed  him  with  so  fatal  a  wound  that,  without 
a  single  eftort  to  save  himself,  he  lost  his  balance  and  fell 


A  LEGEND  OF'  MONTROSE  1875 

headlong  from  the  cliff  on  which  he  stood  into  the  darkness 
below.  The  crash  of  the  boughs  which  received  him,  and 
the  heavy  sound  of  his  fall  from  thence  to  the  ground,  was 
followed  by  a  cry  of  horror  and  surprise  which  burst  from  his 
followers.  The  Children  of  the  Mist,  encouraged  in  propor- 
tion to  the  alarm  this  first  success  had  caused  among  the 
pursuers,  echoed  tack  the  clamor  with  a  loud  and  shrill  yell 
of  exultation,  and,  showing  themselves  on  the  brow  of  the 
precipice,  with  wild  cries  and  vindictive  gestures  endeavored  to 
impress  on  their  enemies  a  sense  at  once  of  their  courage,  their 
numbers,  and  their  state  of  defence.  Even  Captain  Dalgetty's 
military  prudence  did  not  prevent  his  rising  up  and  calling 
out  to  Ranald,  more  loud  than  prudence  warranted,  '^  Carocco, 
comrade,  as  the  Spaniard  says  !  The  long  bow  forever  !  In 
my  poor  apprehension  now,  were  you  to  order  a  file  to  advance 
and  take  position " 

"  The  Sassenach  ! ''  cried  a  voice  from  beneath;  ''mark 
the  Sassenach  sidier  !  I  see  the  glitter  of  his  breastplate. '* 
At  the  same  time  three  muskets  were  discharged  ;  and  while 
one  ball  rattled  against  the  corselet  of  proof,  to  the  strength 
of  which  our  valiant  Captain  had  been  more  than  once 
indebted  for  his  life,  another  penetrated  the  armor  which 
covered  the  front  of  his  left  thigh,  and  stretched  him  on  the 
ground.  Ranald  instantly  seized  him  in  his  arms  and  bore 
him  back  from  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  while  he  dolefully 
ejaculated,  ''  I  always  told  the  immortal  Gustavus,  AVallen- 
stein,  Tilly,  and  other  men  of  the  sword,  that,  in  my  poor 
mind,  taslets  ought  to  be  made  musket-proof.^' 

With  two  or  three  earnest  words  in  Gaelic,  MacEagh  com- 
mended the  wounded  man  to  the  charge  of  the  females,  who 
were  in  the  rear  of  his  little  party,  and  was  then  about  to  re- 
turn to  the  contest.  But  Dalgetty  detained  him,  grasping  a 
firm  hold  of  his  plaid.  ''  I  know  not  how  this  matter  may 
end,  but  I  request  you  will  inform  Montrose  that  I  died  like 
a  follower  of  the  immortal  Gustavus  ;  and  I  pray  you,  take 
heed  how  you  quit  your  present  strength,  even  for  the  pur- 
pose of  pursuing  the  enemy,  if  you  gain  any  advantage — and 
_and " 

Here  Dalgetty's  breath  and  eyesight  began  to  fail  him 
through  loss  of  blood,  and  MacEagh  availing  himself  of  this 
circumstance,  extricated  from  his  grasp  the  end  of  his  own 
mantle  and  substituted  that  of  a  female,  by  which  the  Captain 
held  stoutly,  thereby  securing,  as  he  conceived,  the  outlaw's 
attention  to  the  military  instructions  which  he  continued  to 
pour  forth  while  he  had  any  breath  to  utter  them,  though 


276  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

they  became  gradually  more  and  more  incoherent.  '^  And, 
comrade,  you  will  be  sure  to  keep  your  musketeers  in  advance 
of  your  stand  of  pikes,  Lochaber  axes,  and  two-handed  swords. 
Stand  fast,  dragoons,  on  the  left  flank  !  Where  was  I  ?  Ay, 
and,  Ranald,  if  ye  be  minded  to  retreat,  leave  some  lighted 
matches  burning  on  the  branches  of  the  trees  ;  it  shows  as  if 
they  were  lined  with  shot.  But  I  forget,  ye  have  no  match- 
locks nor  habergeons,  only  bows  and  arrows — bows  and  arrows  ! 
ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Here  the  Captain  sunk  back  in  an  exhausted  condition, 
altogether  unable  to  resist  the  sense  of  the  ludicrous  which, 
as  a  modern  man-at-arms,  he  connected  with  the  idea  of  these 
ancient  weapons  of  war.  It  was  a  long  time  ere  he  recov- 
ered his  senses ;  and,  in  the  mean  time,  we  leave  him  in  the 
care  of  the  Daughters  of  the  Mist ;  nurses  as  kind  and  at- 
tentive in  reality  as  they  were  wild  and  uncouth  in  outward 
appearance. 


CHAPTER  XV 

But  if  no  faithless  action  stain 

Thy  true  and  constant  word, 
I'll  make  thee  famous  by  my  pen, 

And  glorious  by  my  sword. 

m  serve  thee  in  such  noble  ways 

As  ne'er  were  known  before  ; 
m  deck  and  crown  thy  head  with  bays, 

And  love  thee  more  and  more. 

Montrose's  Lines. 

We  must  now  leave,  with  whatever  regret,  the  valiant  Cap- 
tain Dalgetty  to  recover  of  his  wounds  or  otherwise  as  fate 
shall  determine,  in  order  briefly  to  trace  the  military  opera- 
tions of  Montrose,  worthy  as  they  are  of  a  more  important 
page  and  a  better  historian.  By  the  assistance  of  the  Chief- 
tains whom  we  have  commemorated,  and  more  especially  by 
the  junction  of  the  Murrays,  Stewarts,  and  other  clans  of 
Athole,  which  were  peculiarly  zealous  in  the  royal  cause,  he 
soon  assembled  an  army  of  two  or  three  thousand  Highlanders, 
to  whom  he  successfully  united  the  Irish  under  Colkitto. 
This  last  leader,  who,  to  the  great  embarrassment  of  Milton's 
commentators,  is  commemorated  in  one  of  that  great  poet's 
sonnets,*  was  properly  named  Alister  or  Alexander  McDonnell, 
by  birth  a  Scottish  Islesman,  and  related  to  the  Earl  of 
Antrim,  to  whose  patronage  he  owed  the  command  assigned 
him  in  the  Irish  troops.  In  many  respects  he  merited  this 
distinction.  He  was  brave  to  intrepidity,  and  almost  to  in- 
sensibility, very  strong  and  active  in  person,  completely 
master  of  his  weapons,  and  always  ready  to  show  the  example 
in  the  extremity  of  danger.  To  counterbalance  these  good 
qualities,  it  must  be  recorded  that  he  was  inexperienced  in 
military  tactics,  and  of  a  jealous  and  presumptuous  disposi- 
tion, which  often  lost  to  Montrose  the  fruits  of  Colkitto's 
gallantry.  Yet  such  is  the  predominance  of  outward  per- 
sonal qualities  in  the  eyes  of  a  wild  people,  that  the  feats  of 
strength  and  courage  shown  by  this  champion  seem  to  have 
made  a  stronger  impression  upon  the  minds  of  the  Highland- 

*  See  Milton  on  the  Soot/'>'     "^-'ote  6. 

m 


278  WAVBRLEY  NOVELS 

ers  than  the  military  skill  and  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  great 
Marquis  of  Montrose.  Numerous  traditions  are  still  pre- 
served in  the  Highland  glens  concerning  Alister  McDonnell, 
thoagh  the  name  of  Montrose  is  rarely  mentioned  among 
them. 

The  point  upon  which  Montrose  finally  assembled  his  lit- 
tle army  was  in  Strath-Earn,  on  the  verge  of  the  Highlands 
of  Perthshire,  so  as  to  menace  the  principal  town  of  that 
county. 

His  enemies  were  not  unprepared  for  his  reception. 
Argyle,  at  the  head  of  his  Highlanders,  was  dogging  the  steps 
of  the  Irish  from  the  west  to  the  east,  and  by  force,  fear,  or 
influence  had  collected  an  army  nearly  sufficient  to  have  given 
battle  to  that  under  Montrose.  The  Lowlands  were  also  pre- 
pared, for  reasons  which  we  assigned  at  the  beginning  of  this 
tale.  A  body  of  six  thousand  infantry  and  six  or  seven 
thousand  cavalry,  which  profanely  assumed  the  title  of  God^s 
army,  had  been  hastily  assembled  from  the  shires  of  Fife, 
Angus,  Perth,  Stirling,  and  the  neighboring  counties.  A 
much  less  force  in  former  times,  nay,  even  in  the  preceding 
reign,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  have  secured  the  Low- 
lands against  a  more  formidable  descent  of  Highlanders  than 
those  united  under  Montrose  ;  but  times  had  changed  strange- 
ly within  the  last  half-century.  Before  that  period  the  Low- 
landers  were  as  constantly  engaged  in  war  as  the  mountaineers, 
and  were  incomparably  better  disciplined  and  armed.  The 
favorite  Scottish  order  of  battle  somewhat  resembled  the 
Macedonian  phalanx.  Their  infantry  formed  a  compact 
body,  armed  with  long  spears,  impenetrable  even  to  the  men- 
at-arms  of  the  age,  though  well  mounted  and  arrayed  in  com- 
plete proof.  -  It  may  easily  be  conceived,  therefore,  that 
their  ranks  could  not  be  broken  by  the  disorderly  charge  of 
Highland  infantry  armed  for  close  combat  only  with  swords, 
and  ill  furnished  with  missile  weapons,  and  having  no  artil- 
lery whatever. 

This  habit  of  fight  was  in  a  great  measure  changed  by 
the  introduction  of  muskets  into  the  Scottish  Lowland  ser- 
vice, which,  not  being  as  yet  combined  with  the  bayonet,  was 
a  formidable  weapon  at  a  distance,  but  gave  no  assurance 
against  the  enemy  who  rushed  on  to  close  quarters.  The 
pike,  indeed,  was  not  wholly  disused  in  the  Scottish  army  ; 
but  it  was  no  longer  the  favorite  weapon,  nor  was  it  relied 
upon  as  formerly  by  those  in  whose  hands  it  was  placed  ;  in- 
somuch that  t)aniel  Lupton,  a  tactician  of  the  day,  has 
written  a  book  expressly  upon  the  superiority  of  the  musket. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  279 

This  change  commenced  as  early  as  the  wars  of  Gnstavns 
Adolphus,  whose  marches  were  made  with  such  rapidity  that 
the  pike  was  very  soon  thrown  aside  in  his  army  and  'ex- 
changed for  firearms.  A  circumstance  which  necessarily 
accompanied  this  change,  as  well  as  the  establishment  of  stand- 
ing armies,  whereby  war  became  a  trade,  was  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  laborious  and  complicated  system  of  discipline,  com- 
bining a  variety  of  words  of  command  with  corresponding 
operations  and  manoeuvres,  the  neglect  of  any  one  of  which 
was  sure  to  throw  the  whole  into  confusion.  War,  therefore, 
as  practised  among  most  nations  of  Europe,  had  assumed 
much  more  than  formerly  the  character  of  a  profession  or 
mystery,  to  which  previous  practice  and  experience  were  in- 
dispensable requisites.  Such  was  the  natural  consequence  of 
standing  armies,  which  had  almost  everywhere,  and  particu- 
larly in  the  long  German  wars,  superseded  what  may  be  called 
the  natural  discipline  of  the  feudal  militia. 

The  Scottish  Lowland  militia,  therefore,  labored  under  a 
double  disadvantage  when  opposed  to  Highlanders.  They 
were  divested  of  the  spear,  a  weapon  which,  in  the  hands  of 
their  ancestors,  had  so  often  repelled  the  impetuous  assaults 
of  the  mountaineer  ;  and  they  were  subjected  to  a  new  and 
complicated  species  of  discipline,  well  adapted,  perhaps,  to  the 
use  of  regular  troops,  who  could  be  rendered  completely  mas- 
ters of  it,  but  tending  only  to  confuse  the  ranks  of  citizen 
soldiers,  by  whom  it  was  rarely  practised,  and  imperfectly 
understood.  So  much  has  been  done  in  our  own  time  in 
bringing  back  tactics  to  their  first  principles,  and  in  getting 
rid  of  the  pedantry  of  war,  that  it  is  easy  for  us  to  estimate 
the  disadvantages  under  which  a  half -trained  militia  labored, 
who  were  taught  to  consider  success  as  depending  upon  their 
exercising  with  precision  a  system  of  tactics  which  they  proba- 
bly only  so  far  comprehended  as  to  find  out  when  they  were 
wrong,  but  without  the  power  of  getting  right  again.  Neither 
can  it  be  denied  that,  in  the  material  points  of  military 
habits  and  warlike  spirit,  the  Lowlanders  of  the  17th  century 
had  sunk  far  beneath  their  Highland  countrymen. 

From  the  earliest  period  down  to  the  Union  of  the  Crowns, 
the  whole  kingdom  of  Scotland,  Lowlands  as  well  as  Highlands, 
had  been  the  constant  scene  of  war,  foreign  and  domestic  ; 
and  there  was  probably  scarce  one  of  its  hardy  inhabitants, 
between  the  age  of  sixteen  and  sixty,  who  was  not  as  willing 
in  point  of  fact  as  he  was  literally  bound  in  law  to  assume 
arms  at  the  first  call  of  his  liege  lord  or  of  a  royal  proclama- 
tion.    The  law  remained  the  same  in  1645  as  a  hundred  years 


280  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

before,  but  the  race  of  those  subjected  to  it  had  been  bred  up 
under  very  different  feelings.  They  had  sat  in  quiet  under 
their  vine  and  under  their  fig-tree,  and  a  call  to  battle  in- 
volved a  change  of  life  as  new  as  it  was  disagreeable.  Such 
of  them,  also,  who  lived  near  unto  the  Highlands  were  in 
continual  and  disadvantageous  contact  with  the  restless  in- 
habitaats  of  those  mountains,  by  whom  their  cattle  were 
driven  off,  their  dwellings  plundered,  and  their  persons  in- 
sulted, and  who  had  acquired  over  them  that  sort  of  superi- 
ority arising  from  a  constant  system  of  aggression.  The 
Lowlanders  who  lay  more  remote,  and  out  of  reach  of  these 
depredations,  were  influenced  by  the  exaggerated  reports  cir- 
culated concerning  the  Highlanders,  whom,  as  totally  differ- 
ing in  laws,  language,  and  dress,  they  were  induced  to  regard 
as  a  natiou  of  savages,  equally  void  of  fear  and  of  humanity. 
These  various  prepossessions,  joined  to  the  less  warlike  habits 
of  the  Lowlanders,  and  their  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  new 
and  complicated  system  of  discipline  for  which  they  had 
exchanged  their  natural  mode  of  fighting,  placed  them  at 
great  disadvantage  when  opposed  to  the  Highlander  in  the 
field  of  battle.  The  mountameers,  on  the  contrary,  with  the 
arms  and  courage  of  their  fathers,  possessed  also  their  simple 
and  natural  system  of  tactics,  and  bore  down  with  the  fullest 
confidence  upon  an  enemy  to  whom  anything  they  had  been 
taught  of  discipline  was,  like  SauFs  armor  upon  David,  a 
hinderance  rather  than  a  help,  '^  because  they  had  not  proved 
it." 

It  was  with  such  disadvantages  on  the  one  side,  and  such 
advantages  on  the  other  to  counterbalance  the  difference  of 
superior  numbers  and  the  presence  of  artillery  and  cavalry, 
that  Montrose  encountered  the  army  of  Lord  Elcho  upon  the 
field  of  Tippermuir.  The  Presbyterian  clergy  had  not  been 
wanting  in  their  efforts  to  rouse  the  spirit  of  their  followers ; 
and  one  of  them,  who  harangued  the  troops  on  the  very  day 
of  battle,  hesitated  not  to  say  that,  if  ever  God  spoke  by  his 
mouth,  he  promised  them,  in  His  name,  that  day  a  great  and 
assured  victory.  The  cavalry  and  artillery  were  also  reckoned 
sure  warrants  of  success,  as  the  novelty  of  their  attack  had 
upon  former  occasions  been  very  discouraging  to  the  High- 
landers. The  place  of  meeting  was  an  open  heath,  and  the 
^ound  afforded  little  advantage  to  either  party,  except  that 
it  allowed  the  horse  of  the  Covenanters  to  act  with  effect. 

A  battle  upon  which  so  much  depended  was  never  more 
easily  decided.  The  Lowland  cavalry  made  a  show  of  charg- 
ing ;  but  whether  thrown  into  disorder  by  the  fire  of  mus- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  281 

ketry,  or  deterred  by  a  disaffection  to  the  service  said  to  have 
prevailed  among  the  gentlemen,  they  made  no  impression  on 
the  Highlanders  whatever,  and  recoiled  in  disorder  from 
ranks  which  had  neither  bayonets  nor  pikes  to  protect  them. 
Montrose  saw  and  instantly  availed  himself  of  this  advantage. 
He  ordered  his  whole  army  to  charge,  which  they  performed 
with  the  wild  and  desperate  valor  peculiar  to  mountaineers. 
One  officer  of  the  Covenanters  alone,  trained  in  the  Italian 
wars,  made  a  desperate  defence  upon  the  right  wing.  In 
every  other  point  their  line  was  penetrated  at  the  first  onset  ; 
and  this  advantage  once  obtained,  the  Lowlanders  were 
utterly  unable  to  contend  at  close  quarters  with  their  more 
agile  and  athletic  enemies.  Many  were  slain  on  the  field,  and 
such  a  number  in  the  pursuit  that  above  one-third  of  the  Cov- 
enanters were  reported  to  have  fallen  ;  in  which  number,  how- 
ever, must  be  computed  a  great  many  fat  burgesses  who  broke 
their  wind  in  the  flight,  and  thus  died  without  stroke  of 
sword.  * 

The  victors  obtained  possession  of  Perth,  and  obtained 
considerable  sums  of  money,  as  well  as  ample  supplies  of  arms 
and  ammunition.  But  those  advantages  were  to  be  balanced 
against  an  almost  insurmountable  inconvenience  that  uniformly 
attended  a  Highland  army.  The  clans  could  be  in  no  respect 
induced  to  consider  themselves  as  regular  soldiers,  or  to  act 
as  such.  Even  so  late  as  the  year  1745-46,  when  the  Cheva- 
lier Charles  Edward,  by  way  of  making  an  example,  caused  a 
soldier  to  be  shot  for  desertion,  the  Highlanders,  who  com- 
posed his  army,  were  affected  as  much  by  indignation  as  by 
fear.  They  could  not  conceive  any  principle  of  justice  upon 
which  a  man's  life  could  be  taken  for  merely  going  home 
when  it  did  not  suit  him  to  remain  longer  with  the  army. 
Such  had  been  the  uniform  practice  of  their  fathers.  When 
a  battle  was  over  the  campaign  was,  in  their  opinion,  ended  : 
if  it  was  lost,  they  sought  safety  in  their  mountains  ;  if  won, 
they  returned  there  to  secure  their  booty.  At  other  times 
they  had  their  cattle  to  look  after,  and  their  harvests  to  sow 
or  reap,  without  which  their  families  would  have  perished  for 
want.  In  either  case,  there  was  an  end  of  their  services  for 
the  time  ;  and  though  they  were  easily  enough  recalled  by 
the  prospect  of  fresh  adventures  and  more  plunder,  yet  the 
opportunity  of  success  was,  in  the  mean  time,  lost,  and  could 
not  afterwards  be  recovered.  This  circumstance  serves  to 
show,  even  if  history  had  not  made  us  acquainted  with  the 
same  fact,  that  the  Highlanders  had  never  been  accustomed 

♦  See  Baillie's  Lettera.    Note  7. 


282  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  make  war  with  the  view  of  permanent  conquest,  but  only 
with  the  hope  of  deriving  temporary  advantage,  or  deciding 
some  immediate  quarrel.  It  also  explains  the  reason  why 
Montrose,  with  all  his  splendid  successes,  never  obtained  any 
secure  or  permanent  footing  in  the  Lowlands,  and  why  even 
those  Lowland  noblemen  and  gentlemen  who  were  inclined  to 
the  royal  cause  showed  diffidence  and  reluctance  to  join  an 
army  of  a  character  so  desultory  and  irregular  as  might  lead 
them  at  all  times  to  apprehend  that  the  Highlanders, 
securing  themselves  by  a  retreat  to  their  mountains,  would 
leave  whatever  Lowlanders  might  have  joined  them  to  the 
mercy  of  an  offended  and  predominant  enemy.  The  same 
consideration  will  also  serve  to  account  for  the  sudden 
marches  which  Montrose  was  obliged  to  undertake  in  order 
to  recruit  his  army  in  the  mountains,  and  for  the  rapid 
chaQges  of  fortune  by  which  we  often  find  him  obliged  to  re- 
treat from  before  those  enemies  over  whom  he  had  recently 
been  victorious.  If  there  should  be  any  who  read  these  tales 
for  any  farther  purpose  than  that  of  immediate  amusement, 
they  will  find  these  remarks  not  unworthy  of  their  recollec- 
tion. 

It  was  owing  to  such  causes,  the  slackness  of  the  Lowland 
loyalists  and  the  temporary  desertion  of  his  Highland  follow- 
ers, that  Montrose  found  himself  even  after  the  decisive 
victory  of  Tippermuir,  in  no  condition  to  face  the  second 
army  with  which  Argyle  advanced  upon  him  from  the  west- 
ward. In  this  emergency,  supplying  by  velocity  the  want  of 
strength,  he  moved  suddenly  from  Perth  to  Dundee,  and, 
being  refused  admission  into  that  town,  fell  northward  upon 
Aberdeen,  where  he  expected  to  be  joined  by  the  Gordons 
and  other  loyalists.  But  the  zeal  of  these  gentlemen  was,  for 
the  time,  effectually  bridled  by  a  large  body  of  Covenanters, 
commanded  by  the  Lord  Burleigh,  and  supposed  to  amount 
to  three  thousand  men.  These  Montrose  boldly  attacked 
with  half  their  number.  The  battle  was  fought  under  the 
walls  of  the  city,  and  the  resolute  valor  of  Montrose's  follow 
ers  was  again  successful  against  every  disadvantage. 

But  it  was  the  fate  of  this  great  commander  always  to 
gain  the  glory,  but  seldom  to  reap  the  fruits  of  victory.  He 
had  scarcely  time  to  repose  his  small  army  in  Aberdeen,  ere 
he  found,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  Gordons  were  likely  to 
be  deterred  from  joining  him,  by  the  reasons  we  have  men- 
tioned, with  some  others  peculiar  to  their  chief,  the  Marquis 
of  Huntly  ;  on  the  other  hand,  Argyle,  whose  forces  had  been 
augmented  by  those  of  several  Lowland  noblemen,  advanced 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  283 

towards  Montrose  at  the  head  of  an  army  much  larger  than  he 
had  yet  had  to  cope  with.  These  troops  moved,  indeed,  with 
slowness  corresponding  to  the  cautious  character  of  their  com- 
mander ;  but  even  that  caution  rendered  Argyle's  approach 
formidable,  since  his  very  advance  implied  that  he  was  at  the 
head  of  an  army  irresistibly  superior. 

There  remained  one  mode  of  retreat  open  to  Montrose, 
and  he  adopted  it.  He  threw  himself  into  the  Highlands, 
where  he  could  set  pursuit  at  defiance,  and  where  he  was  sure, 
in  every  glen,  to  recover  those  recruits  who  had  left  his 
standard  to  deposit  their  booty  in  their  native  fastnesses.  It 
was  thus  that  the  singular  character  of  the  army  which  Mon- 
trose commanded,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  it  rendered  his 
victory  in  some  degree  nugatory,  enabled  him,  on  the  other, 
under  the  most  disadvantageous  circumstances,  to  secure  his 
retreat,  recruit  his  forces,  and  render  himself  more  formid- 
able than  ever  to  the  enemy  before  whom  he  had  lately  been 
unable  to  make  a  stand. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  threw  himself  into  Badenoch, 
and  rapidly  traversing  that  district,  as  well  as  the  neighbor- 
ing country  of  Athole,  he  alarmed  the  Covenanters  by  suc- 
cessive attacks  upon  various  unexpected  points,  and  spread 
such  general  dismay  that  repeated  orders  were  dispatched  by 
the  Parliament  to  Argyle,  their  commander,  to  engage  and 
disperse  Montrose  at  all  rates. 

These  commands  from  his  superiors  neither  suited  the 
haughty  spirit  nor  the  temporizing  and  cautious  policy  of  the 
aobleman  to  whom  they  were  addressed.  He  paid,  accord- 
ingly, no  regard  to  them,  but  limited  his  efforts  to  intrigues 
among  Montrose's  few  Lowland  followers,  many  of  whom  had 
become  disgusted  with  the  prospect  of  a  Highland  campaign, 
which  exposed  their  persons  to  intolerable  fatigue  and  left 
their  estates  at  the  Covenanters'  mercy.  Accordingly,  several 
of  them  left  Montrose's  camp  at  this  period.  He  was  joined, 
however,  by  a  body  of  forces  of  more  congenial  spirit,  and 
far  better  adapted  to  the  situation  in  which  he  found  himself. 
This  reinforcement  consisted  of  a  large  body  of  Highlanders, 
whom  Colkitto,  dispatched  for  that  j^urpose,  had  levied  in 
A.rgyleshire.  Among  the  most  distinguished  was  John  of 
Moidart,  called  the  Captain  of  Clan  Eanald,  with  the  Stew- 
arts of  Appin,  the  Clan  Gregor,  the  Clan  M'Nab,  and  other 
tribes  of  inferior  distinction.  By  these  means  Montrose's 
army  was  so  formidably  increased  that  Argyle  cared  no  longer 
to  remain  in  the  command  of  that  opposed  to  him,  but  re- 
turned to  Edinburgh,  and  there  threw  up  his  commission. 


284  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

under  pretence  that  his  army  was  not  supplied  with  rein- 
forcements and  provisions  in  the  manner  in  which  they  ought 
to  have  been.  From  thence  the  Marquis  returned  to  Inver- 
ary,  there,  in  full  security,  to  govern  his  feudal  vassals  and 
patriarchal  followers,  and  to  repose  himself  in  safety  on  the 
faith  of  the  clan  proverb  already  quoted — "  It  is  a  far  cry  to 
Lochow/' 


I 


CHAPTER  XVI 

8uch  mountains  steep,  such  craggy  hills, 

His  army  on  one  side  inclose  : 
The  other  side,  great  griesly  gills 

Did  fence  with  fenny  mire  and  moss, 

Which  when  the  Earl  understood, 

He  council  craved  of  captains  all, 
Who  bade  set  forth  with  mournful  mood. 

And  take  such  fortune  as  would  fall. 

Flodden  Field,  an  Ancient  Poem. 

Montrose  had  now  a  splendid  career  in  his  view,  provided 
he  could  obtain  the  consent  of  his  gallant  but  desultory 
troops  and  their  independent  chieftains.  The  Lowlands  lay- 
open  before  him  without  an  army  adequate  to  check  his 
career  ;  for  Argyle^s  followers  had  left  the  Covenanters'  host 
when  their  master  threw  up  his  commission,  and  many  other 
troops,  tired  of  the  war,  had  taken  the  same  opportunity  to 
disband  themselves.  By  descending  Strath  Tay,  therefore, 
one  of  the  most  convenient  passes  from  the  Highlands,  Mon- 
trose had  only  to  present  himself  in  the  Lowlands  in  order 
to  rouse  the  slumbering  spirit  of  chivalry  and  of  loyalty 
which  animated  the  gentlemen  to  the  north  of  the  Forth. 
The  possession  of  these  districts,  with  or  without  a  victory, 
would  give  him  the  command  of  a  wealthy  and  fertile  part  of 
the  kingdom,  and  would  enable  him,  by  regular  pay,  to  place 
his  army  on  a  more  permanent  footing,  to  penetrate  as  far  as 
the  capital,  perhaps  from  thence  to  the  Border,  where  he 
deemed  it  possible  to  communicate  with  the  yet  unsubdued 
forces  of  King  Charles. 

Such  was  the  plan  of  operations  by  which  the  truest  glory 
was  to  be  acquired  and  the  most  important  success  insured 
for  the  royal  cause.  Accordingly  it  did  not  escape  the 
ambitious  and  daring  spirit  of  him  whose  services  had  already 
acquired  him  the  title  of  the  Great  Marquis.  But  other 
motives  actuated  many  of  his  followers,  and  perhaps  were  not 
without  their  secret  and  unacknowledged  influence  upon  his 
own  feelings. 


286  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  Western  Chiefs  in  Montrose's  army,  almost  to  a  man, 
regarded  the  Marquis  of  Argyle  as  the  most  direct  and  proper 
object  of  hostilities.  Almost  all  of  them  had  felt  his  power  ; 
almost  all,  in  withdrawing  their  fencible  men  from  their  own 
glens  left  their  families  and  property  exposed  to  his  vengeance  ; 
all,  without  exception,  were  desirous  of  diminishing  his  sover- 
eignty ;  and  most  of  them  lay  so  near  his  territories  that  they 
might  reasonably  hope  to  be  gratified  by  a  share  of  his  spoil. 
To  these  Chiefs  the  possession  of  Inverary  and  its  castle  was 
an  event  infinitely  more  important  and  desirable  than  the  cap- 
ture of  Edinburgh.  The  latter  event  could  only  afford  their 
clansmen  a  little  transitory  pay  or  plunder  ;  the  former  in- 
sured to  the  Chiefs  themselves  indemnity  for  the  past  and  se- 
curity for  the  future.  Besides  these  personal  reasons,  the 
leaders,  who  favored  this  opinion,  plausibly  urged  that, 
though,  at  his  first  descent  into  the  Lowlands,  Montrose  might 
be  superior  to  the  enemy,  yet  every  day's  march  he  made 
from  the  hills  must  diminish  his  own  forces  and  expose  him 
to  the  accumulated  superiority  of  any  army  which  the  Cove- 
nanters could  collect  from  the  Lowland  levies  and  garrisons.  On 
the  other  hand,  by  crushing  Argyle  effectually,  he  would  not 
only  permit  his  present  western  friends  to  bring  out  that  pro- 
portion of  their  forces  which  they  must  otherwise  leave  at 
home  for  protection  of  their  families  ;  but,  farther,  he  would 
draw  to  his  standard  several  tribes  already  friendly  to  his 
cause,  but  who  were  prevented  from  joining  him  by  fear  of 
M'Callum  More. 

These  arguments,  as  we  have  already  hinted,  found  some- 
thing responsive  in  Montrose's  own  bosom,  not  quite  conso- 
nant with  the  general  heroism  of  his  character.  The  houses 
of  Argyle  and  Montrose  had  been,  in  former  times  repeatedly 
opposed  to  each  other  in  war  and  in  politics,  and  the  superior 
advantages  acquired  by  tlie  former  had  made  them  the  subject 
of  envy  and  dislike  to  the  neighboring  family,  who  conscious 
of  equal  desert,  had  not  been  so  richly  rewarded.  This  was 
not  all.  The  existing  heads  of  these  rival  families  had  stood 
in  the  most  marked  opposition  to  each  other  since  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  troubles. 

Montrose,  conscious  of  the  superiority  of  his  talents,  and 
of  having  rendered  great  service  to  the  Covenanters  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war,  had  expected  from  that  party  the  super- 
eminence  of  council  and  command  wliich  they  judged  it  safer 
to  intrust  to  the  more  limited  faculties  and  more  extensive 
power  of  his  rival  Argyle.  The  having  awarded  this  prefer- 
ence was  an  injury  which  Montrose  never  forgave  the  Cov- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MO^TROSE  287 

enanters ;  and  he  was  still  less  likely  to  extend  liis  pardon 
to  Argyle,  to  whom  he  had  been  postponed.  He  was  there- 
fore stimulated  by  every  feeling  of  hatred  which  could  ani- 
mate a  fiery  temper  in  a  fierce  age  to  seek  for  revenge  upon 
the  enemy  of  his  house  and  person  ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
these  private  motives  operated  not  a  little  upon  his  mind 
when  he  found  the  principal  part  of  his  followers  determined 
rather  to  undertake  an  expedition  against  the  territories  of 
Argyle  than  to  take  the  far  more  decisive  step  of  descending 
at  once  into  the  Lowlands. 

Yet,  whatever  temptation  Montrose  found  to  carry  into 
effect  his  attack  upon  Argyleshire,  he  could  not  easily  bring 
himself  to  renounce  the  splendid  achievement  of  a  descent 
upon  the  Lowlands.  He  held  more  than  one  council  with 
the  principal  Chiefs,  combating,  perhaps,  his  own  secret  in- 
clination as  well  as  theirs.  He  laid  before  them  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  marching  even  a  Highland  army  from  the  east- 
ward into  Argylesliire,  through  passes  scarcely  practicable  for 
shepherds  and  deer-stalkers,  and  over  mountains  with  which 
even  the  clans  lying  nearest  to  them  did  not  pretend  to  be 
thoroughly  acquainted.  These  difficulties  were  greatly  en- 
hanced by  the  season  of  the  year,  which  was  now  advancing 
towards  December,  when  the  mountain  passes,  in  themselves 
so  difficult,  might  be  expected  to  be  rendered  utterly  impas- 
sable by  snow-storms.  These  objections  neither  satisfied  nor 
silenced  the  Chiefs,  who  insisted  upon  their  ancient  mode  of 
making  war,  by  driving  the  cattle  which,  according  to  the 
Gaelic  phrase,  *^  fed  upon  the  grass  of  their  enemy. ^'  The 
council  was  dismissed  late  at  night,  and  without  coming  to 
any  decision,  excepting  that  the  Chiefs,  who  supported  the 
opinion  that  Argyle  should  be  invaded,  promised  to  seek  out 
among  their  followers  those  who  might  be  most  capable  of 
undertaking  the  office  of  guides  upon  the  expedition. 

Montrose  had  retired  to  the  cabin  which  served  him  for  a 
tent,  and  stretched  himself  upon  a  bed  of  dry  fern,  the  only 
place  of  repose  which  it  afforded.  But  he  courted  sleep  in 
vain,  for  the  visions  of  ambition  excluded  those  of  Morpheus. 
In  one  moment  he  imagined  himself  displaying  the  royal  ban- 
ner from  the  reconquered  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  detaching 
assistance  to  a  monarch  whose  crow^n  depended  upon  his  suc- 
cess, and  receiving  in  requital  all  the  advantages  and  prefer- 
ments which  could  be  heaped  upon  him  whom  a  king  delight- 
eth  to  honor.  At  another  time  this  dream,  splendid  as  it 
was,  faded  before  the  vision  of  gratified  vengeance  and  per- 
sonal triumph  over  a  personal  enemy.     To  surprise  Argyle  in 


388  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

hh  stronghold  of  Inverary  ;  to  crush  in  him  at  once  the  rivsZ. 
of  his  own  house  and  the  chief  support  of  the  Presbyterians  ; 
to  show  the  Covenanters  the  difference  between  the  preferred 
Argyle  and  the  postponed  Montrose,  was  a  picture  too  flatter- 
ing to  feudal  vengeance  to  be  easily  relinquished. 

While  he  lay  thus  busied  with  contradictory  thoughts  and 
feelings,  the  soldier  who  stood  sentinel  upon  his  quarters  an- 
nounced to  the  Marquis  that  two  persons  desired  to  speak 
with  his  Excellency. 

'*  Their  names  ?  '*  answered  Montrose,  ''  and  the  cause  of 
their  urgency  at  such  a  late  hour  ? '' 

On  these  points  the  sentinel,  who  was  one  of  Colkitto's 
Irishmen,  could  afford  his  General  little  information ;  so  that 
Montrose,  who  at  such  a  period  durst  refuse  access  to  no  one, 
lest  he  might  have  been  neglecting  some  important  intelli- 
gence, gave  directions,  as  a  necessary  precaution,  to  put  the 
guard  under  arms,  and  then  prepared  to  receive  his  untimely 
visitors.  His  grOom  of  the  chambers  had  scarce  lighted  a 
piirof  torches,  and  Montrose  himself  had  scarce  risen  from 
his  couch,  when  two  men  entered,  one  wearing  a  Lowland 
dress  of  chamois  leather,  worn  almost  to  tatters  ;  the  other  a 
till  upright  old  Highlander,  of  a  complexion  which  might  be 
termed  iron-gray,  wasted  and  worn  by  frost  and  tempest. 

'^  What  may  he  your  commands  with  me,  my  friends  ?'' 
said  the  Marquis,  his  hand  almost  unconsciously  seeking  the 
butt  of  one  of  his  pistols  ;  for  the  period,  as  well  as  the  time 
of  night,  warranted  suspicions  which  the  good  mien  of  his 
visitors  was  not  by  any  means  calculated  to  remove. 

''  I  pray  leave  to  congratulate  you,"  said  the  Lowlander, 
"my  most  noble  General  and  right  honorable  lord,  upon  the 
great  battles  which  you  have  achieved  since  I  had  the  fortune 
to  be  detached  from  you.  It  was  a  pretty  affair  that  tuilzie 
at  Tippermuir  ;  nevertheless,  if  I  might  be  permitted  to 
counsel " 

''Before  doing  so,"  said  the  Marquis,  "will  you  be 
pleased  to  let  me  know  who  is  so  kind  as  to  favor  me  with  his 
opinion  ?  " 

"  Truly,  my  lord,"  replied  the  man,  "  I  should  have  hoped 
that  was  unnecessary,  seeing  it  is  not  so  long  since  I  took  on 
in  your  service,  under  promise  of  a  commission  as  Major,  with 
half  a  dollar  of  daily  pay  and  half  a  dollar  of  arrears ;  and  I 
am  to  trust  your  lordship  has  not  forgotten  my  pay  as  well  as 
my  person  ?  " 

"  My  good  friend,  Major  Dalgetty,"  said  Montrose,  who 
by  this  time  perfectly  recollected  his  man,  "  you  must  con* 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  289 

sider  what  important  things  have  happened  to  put  my  friends^ 
faces  out  of  my  memory,  besides  this  imperfect  light ;  but  all 
conditions  shall  be  kept.  And  what  news  from  Argyleshire, 
my  good  Major  ?  We  have  long  given  you  up  for  lost,  and  I 
was  now  preparing  to  take  the  most  signal  vengeance  upon 
the  old  fox  who  infringed  the  law  of  arms  in  your  person/' 

"  Truly,  my  noble  lord,''  said  Dalgetty,  ''  I  have  no  desire 
that  my  return  should  put  any  stop  to  so  proper  and  becom- 
ing an  intention  ;  verily  it  is  in  no  shape  in  the  Earl  of  Ar- 
gyle's  favor  or  mercy  that  I  now  stand  before  you,  and  I 
shall  be  no  intercessor  for  him.  But  my  escape  is,  under 
Heaven,  and  the  excellent  dexterity  which,  as  an  old  and  ac- 
complished cavalier,  I  displayed  in  effecting  the  same — I  say, 
under  these,  it  is  owing  to  the  assistance  of  this  old  High- 
lander, whom  I  venture  to  recommend  to  your  lordship's 
special  favor,  as  the  instrument  of  saving  your  lordship's  to 
command,  Dugald  Dalgetty  of  Drumthwacket." 

"A  thankworthy  service,"  said  the  Marquis,  gravely, 
'^  which  shall  certainly  be  requited  in  the  manner  it  deserves." 
^^  Kneel  down,  Ranald,"  said  Major  Dalgetty,  as  we  must 
now  call  him — ^^  kneel  down  and  kiss  his  Excellency's  hand." 
The  prescribed  form  of  acknowledgment  not  being  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  Kanald's  country,  he  contented  him- 
self with  folding  his  arms  on  his  bosom  and  making  a  low 
inclination  of  his  head. 

"  This  poor  man,  my  lord,"  said  Major  Dalgetty,  continu- 
ing his  speech  with  a  dignified  air  of  protection  towards  Ra- 
nald MacEagh,  '^has  strained  all  his  slender  means  to  defend 
my  person  from  mine  enemies,  although  having  no  better 
weapons  of  a  missile  sort  than  bows  and  arrows,  whilk  your 
lordship  will  hardly  believe." 

''  You  will  see  a  great  many  such  weapons  in  my  camp," 
said  Montrose,  ^^  and  we  find  them  serviceable."* 

'^  Serviceable,  my  lord  ! "  said  Dalgetty ;  ''I  trust  your  lord- 
ship will  permit  me  to  be  surprised.  Bows  and  arrows  !  I 
trust  you  will  forgive  my  recommending  the  substitution  of 
muskets,  the  first  convenient  opportunity.  But  besides  defend- 
ing me,  this  honest  Highlander  also  was  at  the  pains  of  curing 
me,  in  respect  that  I  had  got  a  touch  of  the  wars  in  my  retreat, 
which  merits  my  best  requital  in  this  special  introduction  of 
him  to  your  lordship's  notice  and  protection." 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  friend  ?  "  said  Montrose,  turning 
to  the  Highlander. 

*'It  may  not  be  spoken,"  answered  the  mountaineer, 

*  See  Bows  and  Arrows.    Note  8. 


^  WAVEELEY  NOVELS 

''  That  is  to  say/'  interpreted  Major  Dalgetty,  "  he  desires 
to  have  his  name  concealed,  in  respect  he  hath  in  former  days 
taken  a  castle,  slain  certain  children,  and  done  other  things 
whilk,  as  your  good  lordship  knows,  are  often  practised  in  war 
time,  but  excite  no  benevolence  towards  the  perpetrator  in  the 
friends  of  those  who  sustain  injury.  I  have  known,  in  my 
military  experience,  many  brave  cavaliers  put  to  death  by  the 
boors,  simply  for  having  used  military  license  upon  the  coun- 
try/' 

''  I  understand,"  said  Montrose.  "  This  person  is  at  feud 
with  some  of  our  followers  ?  Let  him  retire  to  the  court  of 
guard,  and  we  will  think  of  the  best  mode  of  protecting  him."' 

"  You  hear,  Eanald,''  said  Major  Dalgetty,  with  an  air  of 
superiority,  "  his  Excellency  wishes  to  hold  privy  council  with 
me,  you  must  go  to  the  court  of  guard.  He  does  not  know 
where  that  is,  poor  fellow  !  he  is  a  young  soldier  for  so  old  a 
man ;  I  will  put  him  under  the  charge  of  a  sentinel,  and  re- 
turn to  your  lordship  incontinent.''  He  did  so,  and  returned 
accordingly. 

Montrose's  first  inquiry  respected  the  embassy  to  Inverary  ; 
and  he  listened  with  attention  to  Dalgetty's  reply,  notwith- 
standing the  prolixity  of  the  Major's  narrative.  It  required 
an  effort  from  the  Marquis  to  maintain  his  attention  ;  but  no 
one  better  knew  that,  where  information  is  to  be  derived  from 
the  report  of  such  agents  as  Dalgetty,  it  can  only  be  obtained 
by  suffering  them  to  tell  their  story  in  their  own  way.  Ac- 
cordingly the  Marquis's  patience  was  at  length  rewarded. 
Among  other  spoils  which  tlie  Captain  thought  himself  at 
liberty  to  take  was  a  packet  of  Argyle's  private  papers.  These 
he  consigned  to  the  hands  of  his  General ;  a  humor  of  ac- 
counting, however,  which  went  no  farther,  for  I  do  not  under- 
stand that  he  made  any  mention  of  the  purse  of  gold  which 
he  had  appropriated  at  the  same  time  that  he  made  seizure  of 
the  papers  aforesaid.  Snatching  a  torch  from  the  wall,  Mon- 
trose was  in  an  instant  deeply  engaged  in  the  perusal  of  these 
documents,  in  which  it  is  probable  he  found  something  to 
animate  his  personal  resentment  against  his  rival  Argyle. 

'' Does  he  not  fear  me  ? "  said  he  ;  "then  he  shall  feel  me. 
Will  he  fire  my  castle  of  Mugdock  ?  Inverarv  shall  raise  the 
first  smoke.  0  for  a  guide  through  the  skirts  of  Strath 
Fillan!'' 

Whatever  might  be  Dalgetty's  personal  conceit,  he  under- 
stood his  business  sufficiently  to  guess  at  Montrose's  meaning. 
He  instantly  interrupted  his  own  prolix  narration  of  the 
skirmish  which  had  taken  place,  and   the   wound   he  had 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  291 

received  in  liis  retreat^  and  began  to  speak  to  the  point  which 
he  saw  interested  his  General. 

^'li"  said  he,  '^your  Excellency  wishes  to  make  an  infall 
into  Argyleshire,  this  poor  man,  Eanald,  of  whom  I  told  you, 
together  with  his  children  and  companions,  know  every  pass 
into  that  land,  both  leading  from  the  east  and  from  the 
north/' 

^'Indeed!''  said  Montrose;  "what  reason  have  yon  to 
believe  their  knowledge  so  extensive  ?  " 

"  So  please  your  Excellency, '^  answered  Dalgetty,  "  during 
the  weeks  that  I  remained  with  them  for  cure  of  my  wound, 
ihey  were  repeatedly  obliged  to  shift  their  quarters,  in  respect 
oi  Argyle's  repeated  attempts  to  repossess  himself  of  the  per- 
son of  an  officer  who  was  honored  with  your  Excellency's  con- 
fidence; so  that  I  had  occasion  to  admire  the  singular  dexterity 
vand  knowledge  of  the  face  of  the  country  with  which  they 
alternately  achieved  their  retreat  and  their  advance  ;  and 
when,  at  length,  I  was  able  to  repair  to  your  Excellency's 
standard,  this  honest  simple  creature,  Banald  MacEagh, 
guided  me  by  paths  which  my  steed  Gustavus — which  your 
iordship  may  remember — trod  with  perfect  safety,  so  that  I 
said  to  myself  that,  where  guides,  spies,  or  intelligencers  were 
required  in  a  Highland  campaign  in  that  western  country, 
more  expert  persons  than  he  and  his  attendants  could  not 
possibly  be  desired." 

"  And  can  you  answer  for  this  man's  fidelity  ?"  said  Mon- 
trose ;  ^*'  what  is  his  name  and  condition  ?" 

*'  He  is  an  outlaw  and  robber  by  profession,  something 
also  of  a'homicide  or  murderer,"  answered  Dalgetty  ;  "and 
by  name  called  Ranald  MacEagh,  whilk  signifies,  Ranald  the 
Son  of  the  Mist." 

"  I  should  remember  something  of  that  name,"  said  Mon- 
trose, pausing.  "  Did  not  these  Children  of  the  Mist  per- 
petrate some  act  of  cruelty  upon  the  M'Aulays  ?  " 

Major  Dalgetty  mentioned  the  circumstance  of  the  murder 
of  the  forester,  and  Montrose's  active  memory  at  once  recalled 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  feud. 

"It  is  most  unlucky,"  said  Montrose,  "this  inexpiable 
quarrel  between  these  men  and  the  M'Aulays.  Allan  has 
borne  himself  bravely  in  these  wars,  and  possesses,  by  the  wild 
mystery  of  his  behavior  and  language,  so  much  influence 
over  the  minds  of  his  countrymen  that  the  consequences  of 
disobliging  him  might  be  serious.  At  the  same  time,  these 
men  being  so  capable  of  rendering  useful  service,  and,  being, 
as  you  say,  Major  Dalgetty,  perfectly  trustworthy " 


292  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"  I  will  pledge  my  pay  and  arrears,  my  horse  and  arms., 
my  head  and  neck,  upon  their  fidelity/^  said  the  Major ;  '^and 
your  Excellency  knows  that  a  soldado  could  say  no  more  for 
his  own  father/' 

*'  True,"  said  Montrose  ;  "  but  as  this  is  a  matter  of  partic- 
ular moment,  I  would  willingly  know  the  grounds  of  so  posi- 
tive an  assurance." 

"  Concisely  then,  my  lord,"  said  the  Major,  *'  not  only 
did  they  disdain  to  profit  by  a  handsome  reward  which  Argyle 
did  me  the  honor  to  place  upon  this  poor  head  of  mine,  and 
not  only  did  they  abstain  from  pillaging  my  personal  property, 
whilk  was  to  an  amount  that  would  have  tempted  regular 
soldiers  in  any  service  of  Europe  ;  and  not  only  did  they  re- 
store me  my  horse,  whilk  your  Excellency  knows  to  be  of 
value,  but  I  could  not  prevail  on  them  to  accept  one  stiver, 
doit,  or  maravedi  for  the  trouble  and  expenses  of  my  sick-bed. 
They  actually  refused  my  coined  money  when  freely  offered — 
a  tale  seldom  to  be  told  in  a  Christian  land." 

'^ I  admit,"  said  Montrose,  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
*^  that  their  conduct  towards  you  is  good  evidence  of  their  fidel- 
ity ;  but  how  to  secure  against  the  breaking  out  of  this  feud  ?  " 
He  paused,  and  then  suddenly  added,  **  I  had  forgot  I  have 
supped,  while  you.  Major,  have  been  travelling  by  moonlight." 

He  called  to  his  attendants  to  fetch  a  stoup  of  wine  and 
some  refreshments.  Major  Dalgetty,  who  had  the  appetite 
of  a  convalescent  returned  from  Highland  quarters,  needed 
not  any  pressing  to  partake  of  what  was  set  before  him,  but 
proceeded  to  dispatch  his  food  with  such  alacrity  that  the 
Marquis,  filling  a  cup  of  wine  and  drinking  to  his  health, 
could  not  help  remarking  that,  coarse  as  the  provisions  of  his 
camp  were,  he  was  afraid  Major  Dalgetty  had  fared  much 
worse  during  his  excursion  into  Argyleshire. 

''Your  Excellency  may  take  your  corporal  oath  upon 
that,"  said  the  worthy  Major,  speaking  with  his  mouth  full ; 
*'for  Argyle's  bread  and  water  are  yet  stale  and  mouldy  in  my 
recollection,  and  though  they  did  their  best,  yet  the  viands 
that  the  Children  of  the  Mist  procured  for  me,  poor  helpless 
creatures  as  they  were,  were  so  unrefreshful  to  my  body  that, 
when  inclosed  in  my  armor,  whilk  I  was  fain  to  leave  behind 
me  for  expedition's  sake,  I  rattled  therein  like  the  shriv- 
elled kernel  in  a  nut  that  hath  been  kept  on  to  a  second  Hal- 
lowe'en." 

''You  must  take  the  due  means  to  repair  these  losses. 
Major  Dalgetty." 

"  In  troth,"  answered  the  soldier,  "  I  shall  hardly  be  able 


A  LEGEND  OF  3I0NTR0SE  2»S 

to  compass  that,  unless  my  arrears  are  to  be  exchanged  for 
present  pay  ;  for  I  protest  to  your  Excellency  that  the  three 
stone  weight  which  I  have  lost  were  simply  raised  upon  the 
regular  accountings  of  the  States  of  Holland/" 

*'  In  that  case/'  said  the  Marquis,  "  you  are  only  reduced  to 
good  marching  order.  As  for  the  pay,  let  us  once  have  victory 
— victory.  Major,  and  your  wishes,  and  all  our  wishes,  shall 
be  amply  fulfilled.  Meantime,  help  yourself  to  another  cup 
of  wine/' 

'^  To  your  Excellency's  health,"  said  the  Major,  filling  a 
cup  to  the  brim,  to  show  the  zeal  with  which  he  drank  the 
toast,  *^  and  victory  over  all  our  enemies,  and  particularly 
over  Argyle  !  I  hope  to  twitch  another  handful  from  his 
beard  myself.     I  have  had  one  pluck  at  it  already." 

"  Very  true,"  answered  Montrose  ;  *'  but  to  return  to  these 
Men  of  the  Mist.  You  understand,  Dalgetty,  that  their  pres- 
ence here,  and  the  purpose  for  which  we  employ  them,  is  a 
secret  between  you  and  me  ?  " 

Delighted,  as  Montrose  had  anticipated,  with  this  mark  of 
his  General's  confidence,  the  Major  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
nose  and  nodded  intelligence. 

'^How  many  may  there  be  of  Ranald's  followers  ?"  con- 
tinued the  Marquis. 

*^  They  are  reduced,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  some  eight  or  ten 
men,"  answered  Major  Dalgetty,  *^  and  a  few  women  and 
children." 

"  Where  are  they  now  ?"  demanded  Montrose. 

''  In  a  valley  at  three  miles'  distance,"  answered  the  sol- 
dier, "  awaiting  your  Excellency's  command  ;  I  judged  it  not 
fit  to  bring  them  to  your  leaguer  without  your  Excellency's 
orders." 

"  You  judged  very  well,"  said  Montrose  ;  "  it  would  be 
proper  that  they  remain  where  they  are,  or  seek  some  more 
distant  place  of  refuge.  I  will  send  them  money,  though  it 
is  a  scarce  article  with  me  at  present." 

^^  It  is  quite  unnecessary,"  said  Major  Dalgetty  ;  *'  your 
Excellency  has  only  to  hint  that  the  M'Aulays  are  going  in 
that  direction,  and  my  friends  of  the  Mist  will  instantly  make 
volteface  and  go  to  the  right  about " 

'*  That  were  scarce  courteous,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  Bet- 
ter send  them  a  few  dollars  to  purchase  them  some  cattle  foi 
the  support  of  the  women  and  children." 

"  They  know  how  to  come  by  their  cattle  at  a  far  cheaper 
rate,"  said  the  Major ;  "  but  let  it  be  as  your  Excellency 
wills." 


394  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"Let  Kanald  MacEagh,"  said  Montrose,  "select  one  oi 
two  of  his  followers,  men  whom  he  can  trust,  and  who  are 
capable  of  keeping  their  own  secret  and  ours  ;  these,  with 
their  chief  for  scout-master-general,  shall  serve  for  our  guides. 
Let  them  be  at  my  tent  to-morrow  at  daybreak,  and  see,  if 
possible,  that  they  neither  guess  my  purpose  nor  hold  any 
communication  with  each  other  in  private.  This  old  man, 
has  he  any  children  ?  " 

"  They  have  been  killed  or  hanged,''  answered  the  Major, 
"  to  the  number  of  a  round  dozen,  as  I  believe  ;  but  he  hath 
left  one  grandchild,  a  smart  and  hopeful  youth,  whom  I  have 
noted  to  be  never  without  a  pebble  in  his  plaid-nook,  to  fling 
at  whatsoever  might  come  in  his  way  ;  being  a  symbol  that, 
like  David,  who  was  accustomed  to  sling  smooth  stones  taken 
from  the  brook,  he  may  afterwards  prove  an  adventurous 
warrior." 

"  That  boy.  Major  Dalgetty,''  said  the  Marquis,  "I  will 
have  to  attend  upon  my  own  person.  I  presume  he  will  have 
sense  enough  to  keep  his  name  secret  ?  " 

"Your  Excellency  need  not  fear  that,''  answered  Dal- 
getty ;  "  these  Highlaud  imps,  from  the  moment  they  chip 
the  shell ." 

"  Well,"  interrupted  Montrose,  "  that  boy  shall  be  pledge 
for  the  fidelity  of  his  parent,  and  if  he  prove  faithful  the 
child's  preferment  shall  be  his  reward.  And  now.  Major 
Dalgetty,  I  will  license  your  departure  for  the  night ;  to-mor- 
row you  will  introduce  this  MacEagh,  under  any  name  or 
character  he  may  please  to  assume.  I  presume  his  profession 
has  rendered  him  sufficiently  expert  in  all  sort  of  disguises ; 
or  we  may  admit  John  of  Moidart  into  our  schemes,  who  has 
sense,  practicability,  and  intelligence,  and  will  probably  allow 
this  man  for  a  time  to  be  disguised  as  one  of  his  followers. 
For  you,  Major,  my  groom  of  the  chambers  will  be  your 
quartermaster  for  this  evening." 

Major  Dalgetty  took  his  leave  with  a  joyful  heart,  greatly 
elated  with  the  reception  he  had  met  with,  and  much  pleased 
with  the  personal  manners  of  his  new  General,  which,  as  he 
explained  at  great  length  to  Ranald  MacEagh,  reminded  him 
in  many  respects  of  the  demeanor  of  the  immortal  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  and  Bulwark  of  the  Pro- 
testant Faith. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

The  march  begins  in  military  state, 
And  nations  on  his  eyes  suspended  wait ; 
Stem  famine  guards  the  solitary  coast, 
And  winter  barricades  the  realms  of  frost. 
He  comes,  nor  want,  nor  cold,  his  course  delay. 

Vanity  of  Human  Wishes. 

By  break  of  day  Montrose  received  in  his  cabin  old  MacEagh, 
and  questioned  him  long  and  particularly  as  to  the  means  of 
approaching  the  country  of  Argyle.  He  made  a  note  of  his 
answers,  which  he  compared  with  those  of  two  of  his  follow- 
ers, whom  he  introduced  as  the  most  prudent  and  experi- 
enced. He  found  them  to  correspond  in  all  respects ;  but, 
still  unsatisfied  where  precaution  was  so  necessary,  the  Mar- 
quis compared  the  information  he  had  received  with  that  he 
was  able  to  collect  from  the  Chiefs  who  lay  most  near  to  the 
destined  scene  of  invasion,  and  being  in  all  respects  satisfied 
of  its  accuracy,  he  resolved  to  proceed  in  full  reliance  upon  it. 

In  one  point  Montrose  changed  his  mind.  Having 
judged  it  unfit  to  take  the  boy  Kenneth  into  his  own  service, 
lest,  in  case  of  his  birth  being  discovered,  it  should  be  re- 
sented as  an  offence  by  the  numerous  clans  who  entertained 
a  feudal  enmity  to  this  devoted  family,  he  requested  the 
Major  to  take  him  in  attendance  upon  himself ;  and  as  he  ac- 
companied this  request  with  a  handsome  douceur,  under 
pretence  of  clothing  and  equipping  the  lad,  this  change  was 
agreeable  to  all  parties. 

It  was  about  breakfast-time  when  Major  Dalgetty,  being 
dismissed  by  Montrose,  went  in  quest  of  his  old  acquaint- 
ances, Lord  Menteith  and  the  M'Aulays,  to  whom  he  longed  to 
communicate  his  own  adventures,  as  well  as  to  learn  from 
them  the  particulars  of  the  campaign.  It  may  be  imagined 
he  was  received  with  great  glee  by  men  to  whom  the  late  uni- 
formity of  their  military  life  had  rendered  any  change  of  so- 
ciety an  interesting  novelty.  Allan  M'Aulay  alone  seemed  to 
recoil  from  his  former  acquaintance,  although,  when  chal- 
lenged by  his  brother,  he  could  render  no  other  reason  than  a 
reluctance  to  be  familiar  with,  one  who  had  been  so  lately  in 


296  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  company  of  Argyle  and  other  enemies.  Major  Dalgetty 
was  a  little  alarmed  by  this  sort  of  instinctive  consciousness 
which  Allan  seemed  to  entertain  respecting  the  society  he 
had  been  lately  keeping ;  he  was  soon  satisfied,  however,  that 
the  perceptions  of  the  seer  in  this  particular  were  not  infalli- 
ble. 

As  Ranald  MacEagh  was  to  be  placed  under  Major  Dal- 
getty's  protection  and  superintendence,  it  was  necessary  he 
should  present  him  to  those  persons  with  whom  he  was  most 
likely  to  associate.  The  dress  of  the  old  man  had,  in  the 
mean  time,  been  changed  from  the  tartan  of  his  clan  to  a  sort 
of  clothing  peculiar  to  the  men  of  the  distant  Isles,  resembling 
a  wa\stcoat  with  sleeves,  and  a  petticoat,  all  made  in  one  piece. 
This  dress  was  laced  from  top  to  bottom  in  front,  and  bore 
some  resemblance  to  that  called  polonaise,  still  worn  by 
children  in  Scotland  of  the  lower  rank.  The  tartan  hose  and 
bonnet  completed  the  dress,  which  old  men  of  the  last 
century  remembered  well  to  have  seen  worn  by  the  distant 
Islesmen  who  came  to  the  Earl  of  Mar's  standard  in  the  year 
1715. 

Major  Dalgetty,  keeping  his  eye  on  Allan  as  he  spoke, 
introduced  Ranald  MacEagh  under  the  fictitious  name  ol 
Ranald  MacGillihuron  in  Benbecula,  who  had  escaped  with 
him  out  of  Argyle's  prison.  He  recommended  him  as  a  per- 
son skilful  in  the  arts  of  the  harper  and  the  seannachie,  and 
by  no  means  contemptible  in  the  quality  of  a  second-sighted 
person  or  seer.  While  making  this  exposition,  Major  Dal- 
getty stammered  and  hesitated  in  a  way  so  unlike  the  usual 
glib  forwardness  of  his  manner,  that  he  could  not  have  failed 
to  have  given  suspicion  to  Allan  M'Aulay,  had  not  that 
person's  whole  attention  been  engaged  in  steadily  perusing 
the  features  of  the  person  thus  introduced  to  him.  This 
steady  gaze  so  much  embarrassed  Ranald  MacEagh  that  his 
hand  was  beginning  to  sink  down  towards  his  dagger,  in 
expectation  of  a  hostile  assault,  when  Allan  suddenly  crossing 
the  floor  of  the  hut,  extended  his  hand  to  him  in  the  way  of 
friendly  greeting.  They  sat  down  side  by  side  and  conversed 
in  alow  mysterious  tone  of  voice.  Menteith  and  Angus 
M'Aulay  were  not  surprised  at  this,  for  there  prevailed  among 
the  Highlanders  who  pretended  to  the  second  sight  a  sort  of 
freemasonry,  which  generally  induced  them,  upon  meeting, 
to  hold  communication  with  each  other  on  the  nature  and 
extent  of  their  visionary  experiences. 

*'  Does  the  sight  come  gloomy  upon  your  spirits  ?  "  said 
Allan  to  his  new  acquaintance. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  297 

^' As  dark  as  the  shadow  upon  the  moon/^  replied  Ranald, 
''when  she  is  darkened  in  her  mid-course  in  heaven,  and 
prophets  foretell  of  evil  times/^ 

"  Come  hither,"  said  Allan — ''  come  more  this  way,  I 
would  converse  with  you  apart ;  for  men  say  that  in  your 
distant  islands  the  sight  is  poured  forth  with  more  clearness 
and  power  than  upon  us  who  dwell  near  the  Sassenach." 

While  they  were  plunged  into  their  mystic  conference,  the 
two  English  cavaliers  entered  the  cabin  in  the  highest  possi- 
ble spirits,  and  announced  to  Angus  M^Aulay  that  orders  had 
been  issued  that  all  should  hold  themselves  in  readiness  for  an 
immediate  march  to  the  westward.  Having  delivered  them- 
selves of  their  news  with  much  glee,  they  paid  their  compli- 
ments to  their  old  acquaintance.  Major  Dalgetty,  whom  they 
instantly  recognized,  and  inquired  after  the  health  of  his 
charger,  Gustavus. 

J-  ''I  humbly  thank  you,  gentlemen,"  answered  the  soldier, 
"  Gustavus  is  well,  though,  like  his  master,  somewhat  barer 
on  the  ribs  than  when  you  offered  to  relieve  me  of  him  at 
Darnlinvarach  ;  and  let  me  assure  you  that,  before  you  have 
made  one  or  two  of  those  marches  which  you  seem  to  contem- 
plate with  so  much  satisfaction  in  prospect,  you  will  leave,  my 
good  knights,  some  of  your  English  beef,  and  probably  an 
English  horse  or  two,  behind  you." 

Both  exclaimed  that  they  cared  very  little  what  they  found 
or  what  they  left,  provided  the  scene  changed  from  dogging 
up  and  down  Angus  and  Aberdeenshire  in  pursuit  of  an 
enemy  who  would  neither  fight  nor  run  away. 

''If  such  be  the  case,"  said  Angus  M^Aulay,  "I  must 
give  orders  to  my  followers,  and  make  provision  too  for  the 
safe  conveyance  of  Annot  Lyle  ;  for  an  advance  into  M'Callum 
Morels  country  will  be  a  farther  and  fouler  road  than  these 
pinks  of  Cumbrian  knighthood  are  aware  of."  So  saying,  he 
left  the  cabin. 

"  Annot  Lyle  !  "  repeated  Dalgetty,  "  is  she  following  the 
campaign  ?" 

"  Surely,"  replied  Sir  Giles  Musgrave,  his  eye  glancing 
slightly  from  Lord  Menteith  to  Allan  M^Aulay  ;  "we  could 
neither  march  nor  fight,  advance  nor  retreat,  without  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Princess  of  Harps." 

"  The  Princess  of  Broadswords  and  Targets,  I  say,"  an- 
swered his  companion  ;  "  for  the  Lady  of  Montrose  herself 
could  not  be  more  courteously  waited  upon  :  she  has  four 
Highland  maidens  and  as  many  bare-legged  gillies  to  wait 
upon  her  orders." 


298  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

^*And  what  would  you  have,  gentlemen  ?"  said  Allan, 
turning  suddenly  from  the  Highlander  with  whom  he  was  in 
conversation  ;  '*  would  you  yourselves  have  left  an  innocent 
female,  the  companion  of  your  infancy,  to  die  by  violence  or 
perish  by  famine  ?  There  is  not,  by  this  time,  a  roof  upon 
the  habitation  of  my  fathers  ;  our  crops  have  been  destroyed, 
and  our  cattle  have  been  driven  ;  and  you,  gentlemen,  have  to 
bless  God  that,  coming  from  a  milder  and  more  civilized 
country,  you  expose  only  your  own  lives  in  this  remorseless 
war,  without  apprehension  that  your  enemies  will  visit  with 
their  vengeance  the  defenceless  pledges  you  may  have  left 
behind  you." 

The  Englishmen  cordially  agreed  that  they  had  the  supe- 
riority in  this  respect ;  and  the  company,  now  dispersing, 
went  each  to  his  several  charge  or  occupation. 

Allan  lingered  a  moment  behind,  still  questioning  the  re- 
luctant Ranald  MacEagh  upon  a  point  in  his  supposed  visions 
by  which  he  was  greatly  perplexed.  ^'  Repeatedly,"  he  said, 
''  have  I  had  the  sight  of  a  Gael,  who  seemed  to  plunge  his 
weapon  into  the  body  of  Menteith — of  that  young  nobleman 
in  the  scarlet  laced  cloak  who  has  just  now  left  the  bothy. 
But  by  no  effort,  though  I  have  gazed  till  my  eyes  were  almost 
fixed  in  the  sockets,  can  I  discover  the  face  of  this  High- 
lander, or  even  conjecture  who  he  maybe,  although  his  person 
and  air  seem  familiar  to  me."* 

'^Have  you  reversed  your  own  plaid,"  said  Ranald,  '^'^ac- 
cording to  the  rule  of  the  experienced  seers  in  such  case  ? " 

^'I  have,"  answered  Allan,  speaking  low,  and  shuddering 
as  if  with  internal  agony. 

"  And  in  what  guise  did  the  phantom  then  appear  to  you  ?  " 
said  Ranald. 

"  With  his  plaid  also  reversed,"  answered  Allan,  in  the 
same  low  and  convulsed  tone. 

'^  Then  be  assured,"  said  Ranald,  '^  that  your  own  hand 
and  none  other  will  do  the  deed  of  which  you  have  witnessed 
the  shadow." 

'^  So  has  my  anxious  soul  a  hundred  times  surmised,"  re- 
plied Allan.  ^'But  it  is  impossible!  Were  I  to  read  the 
record  in  the  eternal  book  of  fate,  I  would  declare  it  impossi- 
ble :  we  are  bound  by  the  ties  of  blood,  and  by  a  hundred 
ties  more  intimate  ;  we  have  stood  side  by  side  in  battle,  and 
our  swords  have  reeked  with  the  blood  of  the  same  enemies  j 
it  is  IMPOSSIBLE  I  should  harm  him  ! " 

"  That  you  will  do  so,"  answered  Ranald,  ''  is  certain 

*  See  Wraiths.    Note  9. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  299 

though  the  cause  be  hid  in  the  darkness  of  futurity.  You 
say/'  he  continued,  suppressing  his  own  emotions  with  diffi- 
culty, '^that  side  by  side  you  have  pursued  your  prey  like 
bloodhounds  ;  have  you  never  seen  bloodhounds  turn  their 
fangs  against  each  other,  and  fight  over  the  body  of  a  throt- 
leddeer?'' 

^'  It  is  false  !  "  said  M'Aulay,  starting  up,  •'^  these  are  not 
the  forebodings  of  fate,  but  the  temptation  of  some  evil  spirit 
from  the  bottomless  pit ! "  So  saying,  he  strode  out  of  the 
cabin. 

"Thou  hast  it !"  said  the  Son  of  the  Mist,  looking  after 
Aim  with  an  air  of  exultation  ;  ''the  barbed  arrow  is  in  thy 
side  !  Spirits  of  the  slaughtered,  rejoice  !  soon  shall  your 
murderers'  swords  be  dyed  in  each  other's  blood." 

On  the  succeeding  morning  all  was  prepared,  and  Mon- 
trose advanced  by  rapid  marches  up  the  river  Tay,  and  poured 
his  desultory  forces  into  the  romantic  vale  around  the  lake  of 
the  same  name,  which  lies  at  the  head  of  that  river.  The 
inhabitants  were  Campbells,  not  indeed  the  vassals  of  Argyle, 
but  of  the  allied  and  kindred  house  of  Glenorchy,  which  now 
bears  the  name  of  Breadalbane.  Being  taken  by  surprise, 
they  were  totally  unprepared  for  resistance,  and  were  com- 
pelled to  be  passive  witnesses  of  the  ravages  which  took  place 
among  their  flocks  and  herds.  Advancing  in  this  manner  to 
the  vale  of  Loch  Dochart,  and  laying  waste  the  country 
around  him,  Montrose  reached  the  most  difficult  point  of  his 
enterprise. 

To  a  modern  army,  even  with  the  assistance  of  the  good 
military  road  which  now  leads  up  by  Teinedrum  to  the  head 
of  Loch  Awe,  the  passage  of  these  extensive  wilds  would  seem 
a  task  of  some  difficulty.  But  at  this  period,  and  for  long 
afterwards,  there  was  no  road  or  path  whatsoever  ;  and  to  add 
to  the  difficulty,  the  mountains  were  already  covered  with 
snow.  It  was  a  sublime  scene  to  look  up  to  them,  piled  in 
great  masses,  one  upon  another,  the  front  rank  of  dazzling 
whiteness,  while  those  which  arose  behind  them  caught  a  rosy 
tint  from  the  setting  of  a  clear  wintry  sun.  Ben  Cruachan, 
superior  in  magnitude,  and  seeming  the  very  citadel  of  the 
genius  of  the  region,  rose  high  above  the  others,  showing  his 
glimmering  and  scathed  peak  to  the  distance  of  many  miles. 

The  followers  of  Montrose  were  men  not  to  be  daunted  by 
the  sublime  yet  terrible  prospect  before  them.  Many  of  them 
were  of  that  ancient  race  of  Highlanders  who  not  only  wil- 
lingly made  their  couch  in  the  snow,  but  considered  it  as 
effeminate  luxury  to  use  i  snowball  for  a  pillow.     Plunder 


800  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

and  revenge  lay  beyond  the  frozen  mountains  which  they  be- 
held, and  they  did  not  permit  themselves  to  be  daunted  by 
the  difficulty  of  traversing  them.  Montrose  did  not  allow 
their  spirits  time  to  subside.  He  ordered  the  pipes  to 
play  in  the  van  the  ancient  pibroch*  entitled  Hoggil  nam  bo, 
etc.  (that  is,  ''We  come  through  snow-drift  to  drive  the 
prey "),  the  shrilling  sounds  of  which  had  often  struck  the 
vales  of  the  Lennox  with  terror.  The  troops  advanced  with 
the  nimble  alacrity  of  mountaineers,  and  were  soon  involved 
in  the  dangerous  pass,  through  which  Ranald  acted  as  their 
guide,  going  before  them  with  a  select  party  to  track  out  the 
way. 

The  power  of  man  at  no  time  appears  more  contemptible 
than  when  it  is  placed  in  contrast  with  scenes  of  natural 
terror  and  dignity.  The  victorious  army  of  Montrose,  whose 
exploits  had  struck  terror  into  all  Scotland,  when  ascending 
up  this  terrific  pass,  seemed  a  contemptible  handful  of  strag- 
glers, in  the  act  of  being  devoured  by  the  jaws  of  the  moun- 
tain, which  appeared  ready  to  close  upon  them.  Even  Mon- 
trose half  repented  the  boldness  of  his  attempt,  as  he  looked 
down,  from  the  summit  of  the  first  eminence  which  he  at- 
tained, upon  the  scattered  condition  of  his  small  army.  The 
difficulty  of  getting  forward  was  so  great  that  considerable 
gaps  began  to  occur  in  the  line  of  march,  and  the  distance  be- 
tween the  van,  centre,  and  rear  was  each  moment  increased 
ill  a  degree  equally  incommodious  and  dangerous.  It  was 
with  great  apprehension  that  Montrose  looked  upon  every 
point  of  advantage  which  the  hill  afforded,  in  dread  it  might 
be  found  occupied  by  an  enemy  prepared  for  defence ;  and 
he  often  afterwards  was  heard  to  express  his  conviction  that, 
had  the  passes  of  Strath-Fillan  been  defended  by  two  hundred 
resolute  men,  not  only  would  his  progress  have  been  effectu- 
ally stopped,  but  his  army  must  have  been  in  danger  of  being 
totally  cut  off.  Security,  however,  the  bane  of  many  a  strong 
country  and  many  a  fortress,  betrayed,  on  this  occasion,  the 
district  of  Argyle  to  his  enemies.  The  invaders  had  only  to 
contend  with  the  natural  difficulties  of  the  path,  and  with 
the  snow,  which,  fortunately,  had  not  fallen  in  any  great 
quantity.  The  army  no  sooner  reached  the  summit  of  the 
ridge  of  hills  dividing  Argyleshire  from  the  district  of  Bread- 
albane,  than  they  rushed  down  upon  the  devoted  vales  be- 
neath them  with  a  fury  sufficiently  expressive  of  the  motives 
which  had  dictated  a  movement  so  difficult  and  hazardous. 

*  It  Is  the  family  march  of  the  M'Farlanes,  a  warlike  and  predatory  clan,  wlw 
inhabited  the  western  banks  of  Loch  Lomond.    See  Waverley,  p.  460. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  801 

Montrose  diyided  his  army  into  three  bodies,  in  order  to 
produce  a  wider  and  more  extensive  terror,  one  of  which  was 
commanded  by  the  Captain  of  Clan  Ranald,  one  intrusted  to 
the  leading  of  Colkitto,  and  the  third  remained  under  his  own 
direction.  He  was  thus  enabled  to  penetrate  the  country  of 
Argyle  at  three  different  points.  Resistance  there  was  none. 
The  flight  of  the  shepherds  from  the  hills  had  first  announced 
in  the  peopled  districts  this  formidable  irruption,  and  wherever 
the  clansmen  were  summoned  out  they  were  killed,  dis- 
armed, and  dispersed  by  an  enemy  who  had  anticipated  their 
motions.  Major  Dalgetty,  who  had  been  sent  forward  against 
Inverary  with  the  few  horse  of  the  army  that  were  fit  for  ser- 
vice, managed  his  matters  so  well  that  he  hswi  very  nearly 
surprised  Argyle,  as  he  expressed  it,  inter  pocula  ;  and  it 
was  only  a  rapid  flight  by  water  which  saved  that  Chief  from 
death  or  captivity.  But  the  punishment  which  Argyle  himself 
escaped  fell  heavily  upon  his  country  and  clan,  and  the 
ravages  committed  by  Montrose  on  that  devoted  land,  al- 
though too  consistent  with  the  genius  of  the  country  and 
times,  have  been  repeatedly  and  justly  quoted  as  a  blot  on 
his  actions  and  character. 

Argyle  in  the  mean  time  had  fled  to  Edinburgh  to  lay  his 
complaints  before  the  Convention  of  Estates.  To  meet  the 
exigence  of  the  moment,  a  considerable  army  was  raised  under 
General  Baillie,  a  Presbyterian  officer  of  skill  and  fidelity, 
with  whom  was  joined  in  command  the  celebrated  Sir  John 
Urrie,  a  soldier  of  fortune  like  Dalgetty,  who  had  already 
changed  sides  twice  during  the  Civil  War,  and  was  destined 
to  turn  his  coat  a  third  time  before  it  was  ended.  Argyle 
also,  burning  with  indignation,  proceeded  to  levy  his  own 
numerous  forces,  in  order  to  avenge  himself  of  his  feudal 
enemy.  He  established  his  headquarters  at  Dunbarton,  where 
he  was  soon  joined  by  a  considerable  force,  consisting  chiefly 
of  his  own  clansmen  and  dependants.  Being  there  joined  by 
Baillie  and  Urrie,  with  a  very  considerable  army  of  regular 
forces,  he  prepared  to  march  into  Argyleshire  and  chastise  the 
inraaer  of  his  paternal  territories. 

But  Montrose,  while  these  two  formidable  armies  were 
forming  a  junction,  had  been  recalled  from  that  ravaged  coun- 
try by  the  approach  of  a  third,  collected  in  the  north  under 
the  Earl  of  Seaforth,  who,  after  some  hesitation,  having 
embraced  the  side  of  the  Covenanters,  had  now,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  veteran  garrison  of  Inverness,  formed  a  con- 
siderable army,  with  which  he  threatened  Montrose  from 
Inverness-shire.      Inclosed  in  a  wasted  and  unfriendly  coun- 


802  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

try,  and  menaced  on  each  side  by  advancing  enemies  of 
superior  force,  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  Montrose's 
destruction  was  certain.  But  these  were  precisely  the  circum- 
stances under  which  the  active  and  enterprising  genius  of  the 
Great  Marquis  was  calculated  to  excite  the  wonder  and  admira- 
tion of  his  friends,  the  astonishment  and  terror  of  his 
enemies.  As  if  by  magic,  he  collected  his  scattered  forces 
irom  the  wasteful  occupation  in  which  they  had  been  engaged  ; 
and  scarce  were  they  again  united  ere  Argyle  and  his  asso- 
ciate generals  were  informed  that  the  Eoyalists,  having  sud- 
denly disappeared  from  Argyleshire,  had  retreated  northwards 
among  the  dusky  and  impenetrable  mountains  of  Lochaber. 

The  sagacity  of  the  generals  opposed  to  Montrose  immedi- 
ately conjectured  that  it  was  the  purpose  of  their  active 
antagonist  to  fight  with,  and  if  possible  to  destroy,  Seaforth 
ere  they  could  come  to  his  assistance.  This  occasioned  a 
corresponding  change  in  their  operations.  Leaving  this 
Chieftain  to  make  the  best  defence  he  could,  Urrie  and 
Baillie  again  separated  their  forces  from  those  of  Argyle  ; 
and,  having  chiefly  horse  and  Lowland  troops  under  their 
commiiid,  they  kept  the  southern  side  of  the  Grampian  ridge, 
moving  along  eastward  into  the  county  of  Angus,  resolving 
from  thence  to  proceed  into  Aberdeenshire,  in  order  to  inter- 
cept Montrose  if  he  should  attempt  to  escape  in  that  direction. 

Argyle,  with  his  own  levies  and  other  troops,  undertook  to 
follow  Montrose's  march  ;  so  that,  in  case  he  should  come  to 
action  either  with  Seaforth  or  with  Baillie  and  Urrie,  he 
might  be  placed  between  two  fires  by  this  third  army,  which, 
at  a  secure  distance,  was  to  hang  upon  his  rear. 

For  this  purpose,  Argyle  once  more  moved  towards  In- 
verary,  having  an  opportunity,  at  every  step,  to  deplore  the 
severities  which  the  hostile  clans  had  exercised  on  his  depend- 
ants and  country.  Whatever  noble  qualities  the  Highlanders 
possessed,  and  they  had  many,  clemency  in  treating  a  hostile 
country  was  not  of  the  number  ;  but  even  the  ravages  of  hos- 
tile troops  combined  to  swell  the  number  of  Argyle's  follow- 
ers. It  is  still  a  Highland  proverb,  *'  he  whose  house  is  burned 
must  become  a  soldier ; "  and  hundreds  of  the  inhabitants  of 
these  unfortunate  valleys  had  now  no  means  of  maintenance 
save  by  exercising  upon  others  the  severities  they  had  them- 
selves sustained,  and  no  future  prospect  of  happiness  excepting 
in  the  gratification  of  revenge.  His  bands  were,  therefore, 
augmented  by  the  very  circumstances  which  had  desolated  his 
country,  and  Argyle  soon  found  himself  at  the  head  of  three 
thousand  determmed   men,    distinguished   for  activity  and 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  308 

courage,  and  commanded  by  gentlemen  of  his  own  name, 
who  yielded  to  none  in  those  qualities.  Under  himself,  he 
conferred  the  principal  command  upon  Sir  Duncan  Campbell 
of  Ardenvohr  and  another  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  of  Auchen- 
breck,*  an  experienced  and  veteran  soldier,  whom  he  had 
recalled  from  the  wars  of  Ireland  for  this  purpose.  The  cold 
spirit  of  Argyle  himself,  however,  clogged  the  military  coun- 
cils of  his  more  intrepid  assistants ;  and  it  was  resolved,  not- 
withstanding their  increased  force,  to  observe  the  same  plan 
of  operations,  and  to  follow  Montrose  cautiously,  in  what- 
ever direction  he  should  march,  avoiding  an  engagement  until 
an  opportunity  should  occur  of  falling  upon  his  rear  while  he 
should  be  engaged  with  another  enemy  in  front. 

*  This  last  character  is  historical. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

Piobracht  au  Donuil-dhu, 
Piobrachet  au  Donuil, 
Piobrachet  agus  s'breittach 
Feacht  an  Innerlochy. 

The  war-tune  of  Donald  the  Black, 

The  war- tune  of  Black  Donald, 

The  pipes  and  the  banner 

Are  up  in  the  rendezvous  of  Inverlochy, 

The  military  road  connecting  the  chain  of  forts,  as  it  is 
called,  and  running  in  the  general  line  of  the  present  Cale- 
donian Canal,  has  now  completely  opened  the  great  glen  or 
chasm  extending  almost  across  the  whole  island,  once  doubt- 
less filled  by  the  sea,  and  still  affording  basins  for  that  long 
line  of  lakes  by  means  of  which  modern  art  has  united  the 
German  and  Atlantic  Oceans.  The  paths  or  tracks  by  which 
the  natives  traversed  this  extensive  valley  were,  in  1645-46, 
in  the  same  situation  as  when  they  awaked  the  strain  of  an 
Irish  engineer  officer  who  had  been  employed  in  converting 
them  into  practicable  military  roads,  and  whose  eulogium  be- 
gins, and,  for  aught  I  know,  ends,  as  follows  : 

Had  you  seen  but  these  roads  before  they  were  made, 

You  would  have  held  up  your  hands  and  bless'd  General  Wade. 

But,  bad  as  the  ordinary  paths  were,  Montrose  avoided  them 
and  led  his  army,  like  a  herd  of  wild  deer,  from  mountain  to 
mountain  and  from  forest  to  forest,  where  his  enemies  could 
learn  nothing  of  his  motions,  while  he  acquired  the  most 
perfect  knowledge  respecting  theirs  from  the  friendly  clans 
of  Cameron  and  McDonnell,  whose  mountainous  districts  he 
now  traversed.  Strict  orders  had  been  given  that  Argyle's 
advance  should  be  watched,  and  that  all  intelligence  respect- 
ing his  motions  should  be  communicated  instantly  to  the 
General  himself. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  and  Montrose,  worn  out  by  the 
fatigues  of  the  day,  was  laid  down  to  sleep  in  a  miserable 
Bhieling.     He  had  only  slumbered  two  hours  when  some  on© 


I 


A  LEGEND   OF  MONTROSE  805 

touched  his  shoulder.  He  looked  up,  and,  by  the  stately 
form  and  deep  voice,  easily  recognized  the  Chief  of  the 
Camerons. 

'*  I  have  news  for  you,^'  said  that  leader,  "which  is  worth 
while  to  arise  and  listen  to/^ 

"  M'llduy  *  can  bring  no  other, '^  said  Montrose,  address- 
ing the  Chief  by  his  patronymic  title ;  "  are  they  good  or 
bad?^' 

"  As  you  may  take  them,"  said  the  Chieftain. 

"  Are  they  certain  ?  "  demanded  Montrose. 

"Yes," answered  M^Ilduy,  "or  another  messenger  should 
have  brought  them.  Know  that,  tired  with  the  task 
imposed  upon  me  of  accompanying  that  unhappy  Dalgetty  and 
his  handful  of  horse,  who  detained  me  for  hours  on  the  march 
at  the  pace  of  a  crippled  badger,  I  made  a  stretch  of  four 
miles  with  six  of  my  people  in  the  direction  of  Inverlochy, 
and  there  met  with  Ian  of  Glenroy,  who  had  been  out  for 
intelligence.  Argyle  is  moving  upon  Inverlochy  with  three 
thousand  chosen  men  commanded  by  the  flower  of  the  Sons 
of  Diarmid.  These  are  my  news ;  they  are  certain  ;  it  is  for 
you  to  construe  their  purport." 

"  Their  purport  must  be  good,"  answered  Montrose, 
readily  and  cheerfully  ;  "  the  voice  of  MTlduy  is  ever  pleas- 
ant in  the  ears  of  Montrose,  and  most  pleasant  when  it  speaks 
of  some  brave  enterprise  at  hand.     What  are  our  musters  ?" 

He  then  called  for  light,  and  easily  ascertained  that  a 
great  part  of  his  followers  having,  as  usual,  dispersed  to 
secure  their  booty,  he  had  not  with  him  above  twelve  or 
fourteen  hundred  men. 

"  Not  much  above  a  third,"  said  Montrose,  pausing,  "of 
Argyle's  force,  and  Highlanders  opposed  to  Highlanders. 
With  the  blessing  of  God  upon  the  royal  cause,  I  would  not 
hesitate  were  the  odds  but  one  to  two." 

"Then  do  not  hesitate,"  said  Cameron  ;  "for when youi 
trumpets  shall  sound  to  attack  M^Callum  More,  not  a  man  of 
these  glens  will  remain  deaf  to  the  summons.  Glengarry, 
Keppoch,  I  myself,  would  destroy  with  fire  and  sword,  the 
wretcliAvho  should  remain  behind  under  any  pretence  whatso- 
ever. To-morrow  or  the  next  day  shall  be  a  day  of  battle  to 
all  who  bear  the  name  of  McDonnell  or  Cameron,  whatever  be 
the  event." 

"It  is  gallantly  said,  my  noble  friend,"  said  Montrose, 
grasping  his  hand,  "and  I  were  worse  than  a  coward  did  I  not 
do  justice  to  such  followers  by  entertaining  the  most  indubit- 

•  Wtdoh-GoTmel  Dhu,  the  descendant  of  Black  Donald. 


306  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

able  hopes  of  success.  We  will  turn  back  on  this  M'Callum 
More,  who  follows  us  like  a  raven  to  devour  the  relics  of  our 
army,  should  we  meet  braver  men  who  may  be  able  to  break 
its  strength  !  Let  the  Chiefs  and  leaders  be  called  together 
as  quickly  as  possible  ;  and  you,  who  have  brought  us  the  first 
news  of  this  joyful  event — for  such  it  shall  be — you,  M'llduy, 
shall  bring  it  to  a  joyful  issue  by  guiding  us  the  best  and 
nearest  road  against  our  enemy." 

"  That  will  I  willingly  do,"  said  M^Ilduy  ;  ^'^  if  I  have  shown 
you  paths  by  which  to  retreat  through  these  dusky  wilds,  with 
far  more  readiness  will  I  teach  you  how  to  advance  against 
your  foe." 

A  general  bustle  now  prevailed,  and  the  leaders  were 
everywhere  startled  from  the  rude  couches  on  which  they  had 
sought  temporary  repose. 

**  I  never  thought,"  said  Major  Dalgetty,  when  summoned 
up  from  a  handful  of  rugged  heather  roots,  "to  have  parted 
from  a  bed  as  hard  as  a  stable  broom  with  such  bad  will ;  but 
indubitably,  having  but  one  man  of  military  experience  in  his 
army,  his  Excellency  the  Marquis  may  be  vindicated  in  put- 
ting him  upon  hard  duty." 

So  saying,  he  repaired  to  the  council,  where,  notwithstand- 
ing his  pedantry,  Montrose  seemed  always  to  listen  to  him 
with  considerable  attention  ;  partly  because  the  Major  really 
possessed  military  knowledge  and  experience,  and  often  made 
suggestions  which  were  found  of  advantage,  and  partly  be- 
cause it  relieved  the  General  from  the  necessity  of  deferring 
entirely  to  the  opinion  of  the  Highland  Chiefs,  and  gave  him 
additional  ground  for  disputing  it  when  it  was  not  agreeable 
to  his  own.  On  the  present  occasion,  Dalgetty  joyfully  ac- 
quiesced in  the  proposal  of  marching  back  and  confronting 
Argyle,  which  he  compared  to  the  valiant  resolution  of  the 
great  G-ustavus,  who  moved  against  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and 
enriched  his  troops  by  the  plunder  of  that  fertile  country,  al- 
though menaced  from  the  northward  by  the  large  army  which 
Wallenstein  had  assembled  in  Bohemia. 

The  Chiefs  of  Glengarry,  Keppoch,  and  Lochiel,  whose 
clans,  equal  in  courage  and  military  fame  to  any  in  the  High- 
lands, lay  within  the  neighborhood  of  the  scene  of  action, 
dispatched  the  fiery  cross  through  their  vassals,  to  summon 
every  one  who  could  bear  arms  to  meet  the  King's  Lieutenant, 
and  to  loin  the  standards  of  their  respective  Chiefs  as  they 
marched  towards  Inverlochy.  As  the  order  was  emphatically 
given,  it  was  speedily  and  willingly  obeyed.  Their  natural 
love  of  war,  their  zeal  for  the  royal  cause — for  they  viewed 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  8W 

the  King  in  the  light  of  a  chief  whom  his  clansmen  had 
deserted — as  well  as  their  implicit  obedience  to  their  own 
patriarch,  drew  in  to  Montrose's  army  not  only  all  in  the 
neighborhood  who  were  able  to  bear  arms,  but  some  who,  in 
age  at  least,  might  have  been  esteemed  past  the  use  of  them, 
"during  the  next  day^'s  march,  which,  being  directed  straight 
(through  the  mountains  of  Lochaber,  was  unsuspected  by  the 
enemy,  his  forces  were  augmented  by  handf uls  of  men  issuing 
from  each  glen,  and  ranging  themselves  under  the  banners  of 
their  respective  Chiefs.  This  was  a  circumstance  highly  in- 
spiriting to  the  rest  of  the  army,  who,  by  the  time  they 
approached  the  enemy,  found  their  strength  increased  con- 
siderably more  than  one-fourth,  as  had  been  prophesied  by  the 
valiant  leader  of  the  Camerons. 

While  Montrose  executed  this  counter-march,  Argyle  had, 
at  the  head  of  his  gallant  army,  advanced  up  the  southern 
side  of  Loch  Eil,  and  reached  the  river  Lochy,  which  com- 
bines that  lake  with  Loch  Lochy.  The  ancient  Castle  of  In- 
verlochy,  once,  as  it  is  said,  a  royal  fortress,  and  still,  although 
dismantled,  a  place  of  some  strength  and  consideration,  offered 
convenient  headquarters,  and  there  was  ample  room  for  Ar- 

fyle's  army  to  encamp  around  him  in  the  valley,  where  the 
iochy  joins  Loch  Eil.  Several  barges  had  attended,  loaded 
with  provisions,  so  that  they  were  in  every  respect  as  well 
accommodated  as  such  an  army  wished  or  expected  to  be.  Ar- 
gyle, in  council  with  Auchenbreck  and  Ardenvohr,  expressed 
his  full  confidence  that  Montrose  was  now  on  the  brink  of 
destruction ;  that  his  troops  must  gradually  diminish  as  he 
moved  eastward  through  such  uncouth  paths  ;  that  if  he  went 
westward  he  must  encounter  Urrie  and  Baillie,  if  northward 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Seaf orth  ;  or  should  he  choose  any  halt- 
ing-place, he  would  expose  himself  to  be  attacked  by  three 
armies  at  once. 

"  I  cannot  rejoice  in  the  prospect,  my  lord,''  said  Auchen- 
breck, ^' that  James  Graham  will  be  crushed  with  little  as- 
sistance of  ours.  He  has  left  a  heavy  account  in  Argyleshire 
against  him,  and  I  long  to  reckon  with  him  drop  of  blood 
for  dropfcf  blood.  I  love  not  the  payment  of  such  debts  by 
third  hands." 

*'  You  are  too  scrupulous,''  said  Argyle  ;  ''what  signifies 
it  by  whose  hands  the  blood  of  the  Grahams  is  spilled  ?  It  is 
time  that  of  the  Sons  of  Diarmid  should  cease  to  fiow.  What 
say  you,  Ardenvohr  ?  " 

''I  say,  my  lord,"  replied  Sir  Duncan,  ''that  I  think 
Auchenbreck  will  be  gratified,  and  will  himself  have  a  per- 


808  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sonal  opportunity  of  settling  accounts  with  Montrose  for  liis 
depredations.  Reports  have  reached  our  outposts  that  the 
Camerons  are  assembling  their  full  strength  on  the  skirts  of 
Ben  Nevis ;  this  must  be  to  join  the  advance  of  Montrose, 
and  not  to  cover  his  retreat/' 

''  It  must  be  some  scheme  of  harassing  and  depredation/' 
said  Argyle,  "  devised  by  the  inveterate  malignity  of  M'llduy, 
which  he  terms  loyalty.  They  can  intend  no  more  than  an 
attack  on  our  outposts  or  some  annoyance  to  to-morrow's 
march." 

"  I  have  sent  out  scouts,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  *'  in  every  di- 
rection to  procure  intelligence  ;  and  we  must  soon  hear  whether 
they  really  do  assemble  any  force,  upon  what  point,  or  with 
what  purpose." 

It  was  late  ere  any  tidings  were  received  ;  but  when  the 
moon  had  arisen,  a  considerable  bustle  in  the  camp,  and  a 
noise  immediately  after  heard  in  the  castle,  announced  the 
arrival  of  important  intelligence.  Of  the  scouts  first  dispersed 
by  Ardenvohr,  some  had  returned  without  being  able  to  col- 
lect anything,  save  uncertain  rumors  concerning  movements 
in  the  country  of  the  Oamerons.  It  seemed  as  if  the  skirts 
of  Ben  Nevis  were  sending  forth  those  unaccountable  and  por- 
tentous sounds  with  which  they  sometimes  announce  the  near 
approach  of  a  storm.  Others,  whose  zeal  carried  them  farther 
upon  their  mission,  were  entrapped  and  slain  or  made  pris- 
oners by  the  inhabitants  of  the  fastnesses  into  which  they  en- 
deavored to  penetrate.  At  length,  on  the  rapid  advance  of 
Montrose's  army,  his  advanced  guard  and  the  outposts  of 
Argyle  became  aware  of  each  other's  presence,  and,  after  ex- 
changing a  few  musket-shots  and  arrows,  fell  back  to  their 
respective  main  bodies,  to  convey  intelligence  and  receive 
orders. 

Sir  Duncan  Campbell  and  Auchenbreck  instantly  threw 
themselves  on  horseback,  in  order  to  visit  the  state  of  the  out- 
posts ;  and  Argyle  maintained  his  character  of  commander-in- 
chief  with  reputation,  by  making  a  respectable  arrangement  of 
his  forces  in  the  plain,  as  it  was  evident  that  they  might  now 
expect  a  night  alarm,  or  an  attack  in  the  morning  at  farthest. 
Montrose  had  kept  his  forces  sc  cautiously  within  the  defiles 
of  the  mountain  that  no  effort  which  Auchenbreck  or  Arden- 
vohr thought  it  prudent  to  attempt  could  ascertain  his  prob- 
able strength.  They  were  aware,  however,  that,  at  the  ut- 
most computation,  it  must  be  inferior  to  their  own,  and  they 
returned  to  Argyle  to  inform  him  of  the  amount  of  their 
observations  ;  but  that  nobleman  refused  to  believe  that  Mon- 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  309 

trose  could  be  in  presence  himself.  He  said,  '^  It  was  a  mad- 
ness of  which  even  James  Graham,  in  his  height  of  presump- 
tuous frenzy,  was  incapable  ;  and  he  doubted  not  that  their 
march  was  only  impeded  by  their  ancient  enemies,  Glencoe, 
Keppoch,  and  Glengarry  ;  and  perhaps  M'Vourigh,  with  his 
MThersons,  might  have  assembled  a  force,  which  he  knew 
must  be  greatly  inferior  in  numbers  to  his  own,  and  whom, 
therefore,  he  doubted  not  to  disperse  by  force  or  by  terms  of 
capitulation/' 

The  spirit  of  Arg}'le's  followers  was  high,  breathing  venge- 
ance for  the  disasters  which  their  country  had  so  lately 
undergone  ;  and  the  night  passed  in  anxious  hopes  that  the 
morning  might  dawn  upon  their  vengeance.  The  outposts  of 
either  army  kept  a  careful  watch,  and  the  soldiers  of  Argyle 
slept  in  the  order  of  battle  which  they  were  next  day  to  oc- 
cupy. 

A  pale  dawn  had  scarce  begun  to  tinge  the  tops  of  these  im- 
mense mountains  when  the  leaders  of  both  armies  prepared  for 
the  business  of  the  day.  It  was  the  second  of  February, 
1645-46.  The  clansmen  of  Argyle  were  arranged  in  two  lines, 
not  far  from  the  angle  between  the  river  and  the  lake,  and 
made  an  appearance  equally  resolute  and  formidable.  Auchen- 
breck  would  willingly  have  commenced  the  battle  by  an  attack 
on  the  outposts  of  the  enemy,  but  Argyle,  with  more  cautious 
policy,  preferred  receiving  to  making  the  onset.  Signals  were 
soon  heard  that  they  would  not  long  wait  for  it  in  vain.  The 
Campbells  could  distinguish,  in  the  gorge  of  the  mountains, 
the  war-tunes  of  various  clans  as  they  advanced  to  the  onset. 
That  of  the  Camerons,  which  bears  the  ominous  words,  ad- 
dressed to  the  wolves  and  ravens,  **  Come  to  me  and  I  will 
give  you  flesh,''  was  loudly  re-echoed  from  their  native  glens. 
In  the  language  of  the  Highland  bards,  the  war  voice  of  Glen- 
garry was  not  silent ;  and  the  gathering  tunes  of  other  tribes 
could  be  u[ainly  distinguished,  as  they  successively  came  up  to 
the  extremity  of  the  passes  from  which  they  were  to  descend 
into  the  plain. 

"  You  see,"  said  Argyle  to  his  kinsmen,  '*  it  is  as  I  siiid, 
we  have  only  to  deal  with  our  neighbors  ;  James  Graham  has 
not  ventured  to  show  us  his  banner." 

At  this  moment  there  resounded  from  the  gorge  of  the 
pass  a  lively  flourish  of  trumpets,  in  that  note  with  which  it 
was  the  ancient  Scottish  fashion  to  salute  the  royal  standard. 

"  You  may  hear,  my  lord,  from  yonder  signal,"  said  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell,  ''that  he  who  pretends  to  be  the  King's 
Lieutenant  must  be  in  person  among  these  men." 


810  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'^  And  has  probably  horse  with  him,^'  said  Auchonbreck, 
''  which  I  could  not  have  anticipated.  But  shall  we  look  pale 
for  that,  my  lord,  when  we  have  foes  to  fight  and  wrongs  to 
revenge  ?  " 

Argyle  was  silent,  and  looked  upon  his  arm,  which  hung 
in  a  sash,  owing  to  a  fall  which  he  had  sustained  in  a  pre- 
ceding  march. 

"It  is  true,"  interrupted  Ardenvohr,  eagerly,  '^  my  Lord 
of  Argyle^  you  are  disabled  from  using  either  sword  or  pistol; 
you  must  retire  on  board  the  galleys.  Your  life  is  precious 
to  us  as  a  head  ;  your  hand  cannot  be  useful  to  us  as  a 
soldier." 

"  No,"  said  Argyle,  pride  contending  with  irresolution, 
"  it  shall  never  be  said  that  I  fled  before  Montrose  ;  if  I  can- 
not fight,  I  will  at  least  die  in  the  midst  of  my  children." 

Several  other  principal  Chiefs  of  the  Campbells,  with  one 
voice,  conjured  and  obtested  their  Chieftain  to  leave  them 
for  tJiat  day  to  the  leading  of  Ardenvohr  and  Auchenbreck, 
and  to  behold  the  conflict  from  a  distance  and  in  safety.  We 
dare  not  stigmatize  Argyle  with  poltroonery ;  for,  though  his 
life  was  marked  by  no  action  of  bravery,  yet  he  behaved 
with  so  much  composure  and  dignity  in  the  final  and  closing 
scene  that  his  conduct  upon  the  present  and  similar  occasions 
should  be  rather  imputed  to  indecision  than  to  want  of 
courage.  But  when  the  small  still  voice  within  a  man's  own 
breast,  which  tells  him  that  his  life  is  of  consequence  to  him- 
lelf,  is  seconded  by  that  of  numbers  around  him,  who  assure 
lim  that  it  is  of  equal  advantage  to  the  public,  history  affords 
jiany  examples  of  men  more  habitually  daring  than  Argyle 
who  have  consulted  self-preservation  when  the  temptations  to 
it  were  so  powerfully  increased. 

"  See  him  on  board  if  you  will.  Sir  Duncan,"  said  Auch- 
enbreck to  his  kinsman;  "it  must  be  my  duty  to  prevent  this 
spirit  from  spreading  farther  among  us." 

\  o  saying,  he  threw  himself  among  the  ranks,  entreating, 
commanding,  and  conjuring  the  soldiers  to  remember  their 
ancient  fame  and  their  present  superiority,  the  wrongs  they 
hr.d  to  revenge  if  successful,  and  the  fate  they  had  to  dread 
if  vanquished  ;  and  imparting  to  every  bosom  a  portion  of  the 
fire  which  glowed  in  his  own.  Slowly,  meanwhile,  and 
apparently  with  reluctance,  Argyle  suffered  himself  to  be 
forced  by  his  officious  kinsmen  to  the  verge  of  the  lake,  and 
was  transported  on  board  of  a  galley,  from  the  deck  of  which 
he  surveyed  with  more  safety  than  credit  the  scene  which 
ensued. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  811 

Sir  Dnncan  Campbell  of  Ardenvohr,  notwithstanding  the 
urgency  of  the  occasion,  stood  with  his  eyes  riveted  on  the 
boat  which  bore  his  Chieftain  from  the  field  of  battle.  There 
were  feelings  in  his  bosom  which  could  not  be  expressed  ;  for 
the  character  of  a  Chief  was  that  of  a  father,  and  the  heart  of 
a  clansman  durst  not  dwell  upon  his  failings  with  critical 
severity  as  upon  those  of  other  men.  Argyle,  too,  harsh  and 
severe  to  others,  was  generous  and  liberal  among  his  kinsmen, 
and  the  noble  heart  of  Ardenvohr  was  wrung  with  bitter 
anguish  when  he  reflected  to  what  interpretation  his  present 
conduct  might  subject  him. 

"  It  is  better  it  should  be  so,"  said  he  to  himself,  devour- 
ing his  own  emotion  ;  "  but — of  his  line  of  a  hundred  sires,  I 
know  not  one  who  would  have  retired  while  the  banner  of 
Diarmid  waved  in  the  wind  in  the  face  of  its  most  inveterate 
foes  ! " 

A  loud  shout  now  compelled  him  to  turn,  and  to  hasten 
with  all  dispatch  to  his  post,  which  was  on  the  right  flank  of 
Argyle^s  little  army. 

The  retreat  of  Argyle  had  not  passed  unobserved  by  his 
watchful  enemy,  who,  occupying  the  superior  ground,  could 
mark  every  circumstance  which  passed  below.  The  move- 
ment of  three  or  four  horsemen  to  the  rear  showed  that  those 
who  retreated  were  men  of  rank. 

^'  They  are  going,"  said  Dalgetty,  *^to  put  their  horses  out 
of  danger,  like  prudent  cavaliers.  Yonder  goes  Sir  Duncan 
Campbell  riding  a  brown  bay  gelding,  which  I  had  marked 
for  my  own  second  charger." 

*'  You  are  wrong.  Major,"  said  Montrose,  with  a  bitter 
smile ;  *^*  they  are  saving  their  precious  Chief.  Give  the 
^gnal  for  assault  instantly ;  send  the  word  through  the 
Tanks.  Gentlemen,  noble  Chiefs,  Glengarry,  Keppoch, 
^'Vourigh,  upon  them  instantly  !  Ride  to  Mllduy,  Major 
Palgetty,  and  tell  him  to  charge  as  he  loves  Lochaber ; 
return  and  bring  our  handful  of  horse  to  my  standard.  They 
shall  be  placed  with  the  Irish  as  a  reserve." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

As  meets  a  rock  a  thousand  waves,  so  Inisfail  met  Lochlin. 

OSSIAN. 

The  trumpets  and  bagpipes,  those  clamorous  harbingers  of 
blood  and  death,,  at  once  united  in  the  signal  for  onset,  which 
was  replied  to  by  the  cry  of  more  than  two  thousand  warriors, 
and  the  echoes  of  the  mountain  glens  behind  tliem.  Divi- 
ded into  three  bodies  or  columns,  the  Highland  followers  of 
Montrose  poured  from  the  defiles  which  had  hitherto  con- 
cealed them  from  their  enemies,  and  rushed  with  the  utmost 
determination  upon  the  Campbells,  who  waited  their  charge 
with  the  greatest  firmness.  Behind  these  charging  columns 
marched  in  line  the  Irish,  under  Colkitto,  intended  to  form 
the  reserve.  With  them  was  the  royal  standard  and  Mon- 
trose himself ;  and  on  the  flanks  were  about  fifty  horse,  under 
Dalgetty,  which  by  wonderful  exertions  had  been  kept  in 
some  sort  fit  for  service. 

The  right  column  of  Royalists  was  led  by  Glengarry,  the 
left  by  Lochiel,  and  the  centre  by  the  Earl  of  Menteith,  who 
preferred  fighting  on  foot  in  a  Highland  dress  to  remaining 
with  the  cavalry. 

The  Highlanders  poured  on  with  the  proverbial  fury  of 
their  country,  firing  their  guns  and  discharging  their  arrows 
at  a  little  distance  from  the  enemy,  who  received  the  assault 
with  the  most  determined  gallantry.  Better  provided  with 
musketry  than  their  enemies,  stationary  also,  and  therefore 
making  the  more  decisive  aim,  the  fire  of  Argyle^s  followers 
wa^  more  destructive  than  that  which  they  sustained.  The 
royal  clans,  perceiving  this,  rushed  to  close  quarters,  and 
succeeded  on  two  points  in  throwing  their  enemies  into  dis- 
order. With  regular  troops  this  must  have  achieved  a  vic- 
tory ;  but  here  Highlanders  were  opposed  to  Highlanders, 
and  the  nature  of  the  weapons,  as  well  as  the  agility  of  those 
who  wielded  them,  was  equal  on  both  sides. 

Their  strife  was  accordingly  desperate  ;  and  the  clash  of 
the  swords  and  axes,  as  they  encountered  each  other  or  rang 
upon  the  targets,  was  mingled  with  the  short,  wild,  animat 


I 


I 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  318 

ing  shrieks  with  which  Highlanders  accompany  the  battle, 
the  dance,  or  indeed  violent  exertion  of  any  kind.  Many  of 
the  foes  opposed  were  personally  acquainted,  and  sought  to 
match  themselves  with  each  other  from  motives  of  hatred  or 
a  more  generous  emulation  of  valor.  Neither  party  would 
retreat  an  inch,  while  the  place  of  those  who  fell  (and  they 
fell  fast  on  both  sides)  was  eagerly  supplied  by  others,  who 
thronged  to  the  front  of  danger.  A  steam,  like  that  which 
arises  from  a  seething  caldron,  rose  into  the  thin,  cold, 
frosty  air  and  hovered  above  the  combatants. 

So  stood  the  fight  on  the  right  and  the  centre,  with  no 
immediate  consequence  except  mutual  wounds  and  death. 

On  the  right  of  the  Campbells,  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr 
obtained  some  advantage,  through  his  military  skill  and  by 
strength  of  numbers.  He  had  moved  forward  obliquely  the 
extreme  flank  of  his  line  at  the  instant  the  Eoyalists  were 
about  to  close,  so  that  they  sustained  a  fire  at  once  on  front 
and  in  flank,  and,  despite  the  utmost  efforts  of  their  leader, 
were  thrown  into  some  confusion.  At  this  instant  Sir  Dun- 
can Campbell  gave  the  word  to  charge,  and  thus  unexpectedly 
made  the  attack  at  the  very  moment  he  seemed  about  to  re- 
ceive it.  Such  a  change  of  circumstances  is  always  discour- 
aging, and  often  fatal.  But  the  disorder  was  remedied  by 
the  advance  of  the  Irish  reserve,  whose  heavy  and  sustained 
fire  compelled  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  to  forego  his  advan- 
tage and  content  himself  with  repulsing  the  enemy.  The 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  in  the  mean  while,  availing  himself  of 
some  scattered  birch  trees,  as  well  as  of  the  smoke  produced 
by  the  close  fire  of  the  Irish  musketry,  which  concealed  the 
operation,  called  upon  Dalgetty  to  follow  him  with  the  horse, 
and  wheeling  round  so  as  to  gain  the  right  flank  and  even 
the  rear  of  the  enemy,  he  commanded  his  six  trumpets  to 
sound  the  charge.  The  clang  of  the  cavalry  trumpets,  and 
the  noise  of  the  galloping  of  the  horse,  produced  an  effect 
upon  Argyle's  right  wing  which  no  other  sounds  could  have 
impressed  them  with.  The  mountaineers  of  that  period  had 
a  superstitious  dread  of  the  war-horse,  like  that  entertained 
by  the  Peruvians,  and  had  many  strange  ideas  respecting  the 
manner  in  which  that  animal  was  trained  to  combat.  When, 
therefore,  they  found  their  ranks  unexpectedly  broken,  and 
that  the  objects  of  their  greatest  terror  were  suddenly  in  the 
midst  of  them,  the  panic,  in  spite  of  Sir  Duncan's  attempts 
to  stop  it,  became  universal.  Indeed,  the  figure  of  Major 
-~>algetty  alone,  sheathed  in  impenetrable  armor,  and  making 
ins  ^orse  caracole  and  bound,  so  as  to  give  weight  to  every 


814  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

blow  which  he  struck,  would  have  been  a  novelty  in  itself  suf- 
ficient to  terrify  those  who  had  never  seen  anything  more 
nearly  resembling  such  a  cavalier  than  a  shelty  waddling 
under  a  Highlander  far  bigger  than  itself.  The  repulsed 
Royalists  returned  to  the  charge ;  the  Irish,  keeping  their 
ranks,  maintained  a  fire  equally  close  and  destructive.  There 
was  no  sustaining  the  fight  longer.  Argyle's  followers  began 
to  break  and  fly,  most  towards  the  lake,  the  remainder  in  dif- 
ferent directions.  The  defeat  of  the  right  wing,  of  itself  de- 
cisive, was  rendered  irreparable  by  the  death  of  Auchenbreck, 
who  fell  while  endeavoring  to  restore  order. 

The  Knight  of  Ardenvohr,  with  two  or  three  hundred 
men,  all  gentlemen  of  descent  and  distinguished  gallantry — 
for  the  Campbells  are  supposed  to  have  had  more  gentlemen 
in  their  ranks  than  any  of  the  Highland  clans — endeavored, 
with  unavailing  heroism,  to  cover  the  tumultuary  retreat  of 
the  common  file.  Their  resolution  only  proved  fatal  to  them- 
selves, as  they  were  charged  again  and  again  by  fresh  adver- 
saries, and  forced  to  separate  from  each  other,  until  at  length 
their  aim  seemed  only  to  be  to  purchase  an  honorable  death 
by  resisting  to  the  very  last. 

"  Good  quarter.  Sir  Duncan,''  called  out  Major  Dalgetty, 
when  he  discovered  his  late  host,  with  one  or  two  others, 
defending  himself  against  several  Highlanders  ;  and  to  enforce 
his  offer,  he  rode  up  to  him  with  his  sword  uplifted.  Sir 
Duncan's  reply  was  the  discharge  of  a  reserved  pistol,  which 
took  effect  not  on  the  person  of  the  rider,  but  on  that  of  his 
gallant  horse,  which,  shot  through  the  heart,  fell  dead  under 
him.  Ranald  MacEagh,  who  was  one  of  those  who  had  been 
pressing  Sir  Duncan  hard,  took  the  opportunity  to  cut  him 
down  with  his  broadsword,  as  he  turned  from  him  in  the  act 
of  firing  the  pistol. 

Allan  M'Aulay  came  up  at  this  moment.  They  were,  ex- 
cepting Ranald,  followers  of  his  brother  who  were  engaged 
on  that  part  of  the  field.  "  Villains  !"  he  said,  "which  of 
you  has  dared  to  do  this,  when  it  was  my  positive  order  that 
the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  should  be  taken  alive  ?" 

Half  a  dozen  of  busy  hands,  which  were  emulously  em- 
ployed in  plundering  the  fallen  knight,  whose  arms  and  ac- 
coutrements were  of  a  magnificence  befitting  his  quality, 
instantly  forebore  the  occupation,  and  half  the  number  of 
voices  exculpated  themselves  by  laying  the  blame  on  the  Skye 
man,  as  they  called  Ranald  MacEagh. 

"Dog  of  an  Islander!"  said  Allan,  forgetting,  in  his 
wrath,  their  prophetic  brotherhood,  "follow  the  chase  and 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  m 

harm  him  no  farther,  unless  yon  mean  to  die  by  my  hand/* 
They  were  at  this  moment  left  almost  alone  ;  for  Allan's 
threats  had  forced  his  own  clan  from  the  spot,  and  all  around 
had  pressed  onwards  toward  the  lake,  carrying  before  them 
noise,  terror,  and  confusion,  and  leaving  behind  only  the  dead 
and  dying.  The  moment  was  tempting  to  MacEagh's  venge- 
ful spirit.  '*  That  I  should  die  by  your  hand,  red  as  it  is  with 
the  blood  of  my  kindred, '''  said  he,  answering  the  threat  of 
Allan  in  a  tone  as  menacing  as  his  own,  *^is  not  more  likely 
than  that  you  should  fall  by  mine."  With  that  he  struck  at 
M'Aulay  with  such  unexpected  readiness  that  he  had  scarce 
time  to  intercept  the  blow  with  his  target. 

*' Villain!"  said  Allan,  in  astonishment,  ''what  means 
this?" 

''  I  am  Eanald  of  the  Mist !"  answered  the  Islesman,  re- 
peating the  blow  ;  and  with  that  word  they  engaged  in  close 
and  furious  conflict.  It  seemed  to  be  decreed  that  in  Allan 
M'Aulay  had  arisen  the  avenger  of  his  mother's  wrongs  upon 
this  wild  tribe,  as  was  proved  by  the  issue  of  the  present,  as 
well  as  of  former,  combats.  After  exchanging  a  few  blows, 
Ranald  MacEagh  was  prostrated  by  a  deep  wound  on  the 
skull ;  and  M'Aulay,  setting  his  foot  on  him,  was  about  to 
pass  the  broadsword  through  his  body,  when  the  point  of  the 
weapon  was  struck  up  by  a  third  party,  who  suddenly  inter- 
posed. This  was  no  other  than  Major  Dalgetty,  who,  stunned 
by  the  fall,  and  encumbered  by  the  dead  body  of  his  horse, 
had  now  recovered  his  legs  and  his  understanding.  "  Hold 
up  your  sword,"  said  he  to  M'Aulay,  ''  and  prejudice  this 
person  no  farther,  in  respect  that  he  is  here  in  my  safe-con- 
duct, and  in  his  Excellency's  service  ;  and  in  regard  that  no 
honorable  cavalier  is  at  liberty,  by  the  law  martial,  to  avenge 
his  own  private  mjuries  flagrante  hello,  multo  majus  flagrante 
prcelio." 

''Fool ! "  said  Allan,  "  stand  aside,  and  dare  not  to  come 
between  the  tiger  and  his  prey  ! " 

But,  far  from  quitting  his  point,  Dalgetty  stepped  across  the 
fallen  body  of  MacEagh,  and  gave  Allan  to  understand  that, 
if  he  called  himself  a  tiger,  he  was  likely,  at  present,  to  find  a 
lion  in  his  path.  There  required  no  more  than  the  gesture 
and  tone  of  defiance  to  turn  the  whole  rage  of  the  military 
seer  against  the  person  who  was  opposing  the  course  of  his 
vengeance,  and  blows  were  instantly  exchanged  without  far- 
ther ceremony. 

The  strife  betwixt  Allan  and  MacEagh  had  been  un- 
noticed by  the  stragglers  around,  for  the  person  of  the  latter 


816  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  known  to  few  of  Montrose's  followers  ;  but  the  seufflfl 
betwixt  Dalgetty  and  him,  both  sg  well  known,  attracted 
instant  attention,  and  fortunately,  among  others,  that  of 
Montrose  himself,  who  had  come  for  the  purpose  of  gathering 
together  his  small  body  of  horse  and  following  the  pursuit 
down  Loch  Eil.  Aware  of  the  fatal  consequences  of  dissen- 
sion in  his  little  army,  he  pushed  his  horse  up  to  the  spot, 
and  seeing  MacEagh  on  the  ground,  and  Dalgetty  in  the  at- 
titude of  protecting  him  against  M^Aulay,  his  quick  appre- 
hension instantly  caught  the  cause  of  quarrel,  and  as  instantly 
devised  moans  to  stop  it.  "For  shame, '''  he  said,  "gentle- 
men cavaliers,  brawling  together  in  so  glorious  a  field  of 
victory  !  Are  you  mad  ?  Or  are  you  intoxicated  with  the 
glory  which  you  have  both  this  day  gained  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  my  fault,  so  please  your  Excellency, '^  said  Dal- 
getty. "  I  have  been  known  a  bonus  socius,  a  hon  camarado  in 
all  the  services  of  Europe  ;  but  he  that  touches  a  man  under 
my  safe-guard " 

"  And  he,''  said  Allan,  speaking  at  the  same  time,  "  who 
dares  to  bar  the  cause  of  my  just  vengeance " 

*'  For  shame,  gentlemen  ! "  again  repeated  Montrose.  "  I 
have  other  business  for  you  both — business  of  deeper  import- 
ance than  any  private  quarrel,  which  you  may  easily  find  a 
more  fitting  time  to  settle.  For  you.  Major  Dalgetty,  kneel 
down.'' 

"Kneel!"  said  Dalgetty  ;  "I  have  not  learned  to  obey 
that  word  of  command,  saving  when  it  is  given  from  the  pul- 
pit. In  the  Swedish  discipline,  the  front  rank  do  indeed 
Kneel,  but  only  when  the  regiment  is  drawn  up  six  file  deep." 

"  Nevertheless,"  repeated  Montrose,  "  kneel  down,  in  the 
name  of  King  Charles  and  of  his  representative." 

When  Dalgetty  reluctantly  obeyed,  Montrose  struck  him 
lightly  on  the  neck  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  saying,  "  In 
reward  of  the  gallant  service  of  this  day,  and  in  the  name  and 
authority  of  our  Sovereign,  King  Charles,  I  dub  thee  knight ; 
be  brave,  loyal,  and  fortunate.  And  now.  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty, 
to  your  duty.  Collect  what  horsemen  you  can,  and  pursue 
such  of  the  enemy  as  are  flying  down  the  side  of  the  lake.  Do 
not  disperse  your  force,  nor  venture  too  far  ;  but  take  heed  to 
prevent  their  rallying,  which  very  little  exertion  may  do. 
Mount,  then.  Sir  Dugald,  and  do  your  duty." 

"  But  what  shall  I  mount  ?"  said  the  new-made  chevalier. 
*'  Poor  Gustavus  sleeps  in  the  bed  of  honor,  like  his  immortal 
namesake  !.  and  I  am  made  a  knight,  a  rider  *  as  the  High 

*  In  Qerman,  as  in  Latin,  the  original  meaning  of  the  word  titter,  correspond- 
ing to  tqnet,  is  naerely  a  horseman. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  81^ 

Dutch   have   it,  just  when  I  have  not  a  horse  ^eft  to  ride 
upon. " 

"  That  shall  not  he  said/^  answered  Montrose,  dismount, 
ing ;  ^'I  make  you  a  present  of  riy  own,  which  has  heen 
thought  a  good  one  ;  only,  I  pray  you,  resume  the  duty  you 
discharge  so  well/^ 

With  many  acknowledgments.  Sir  Dugald  mounted  the 
steed  so  liberally  bestowed  upon  him  ;  and  only  beseeching  his 
Excellency  to  remember  that  MacEagh  was  under  his  safe- 
conduct,  im^mediately  began  to  execute  the  orders  assigned  to 
him  with  great  zeal  and  alacrity. 

''And  you,  Allan  M^Aulay,''  said  Montrose,  addressing 
the  Highlander,  who,  leaning  his  sword-point  on  the  ground, 
had  regarded  the  ceremony  of  his  antagonist's  knighthood 
with  a  sneer  of  sullen  scorn — ^'^you,  who  are  superior  to  the 
ordinary  men  led  by  the  paltry  motives  of  plunder  and  pay 
and  personal  distinction, — you,  whose  deep  knowledge  ren- 
ders you  so  valuable  a  counsellor — is  it  yoii  whom  I  find 
striving  with  a  man  like  Dalgetty,  for  the  privilege  of  tramp- 
ling the  remains  of  life  out  of  so  contemptible  an  enemy  as 
lies  there  ?  Come,  my  friend,  I  have  other  work  for  you. 
This  victory,  skilfully  improved,  shall  win  Seaforth  to  our 
party.  It  is  not  disloyalty,  but  despair  of  the  good  cause, 
that  has  induced  him  to  take  arms  against  us.  These  arms, 
in  this  moment  of  better  augury,  he  may  be  brought  to  unite, 
with  ours.  I  shall  send  my  gallant  friend.  Colonel  Hay,  to 
him,  from  this  very  field  of  battle,  but  he  must  be  united  in 
commission  with  a  Highland  gentleman  of  rank,  befitting 
that  of  Seaforth*  and  of  talents  and  of  influence  such  as  may 
make  an  impression  upon  him.  You  are  not  only  in  every 
respect  the  fittest  for  this  most  important  mission,  but,  hav- 
ing no  immediate  command,  your  presence  may  be  more 
easily  spared  than  that  of  a  Chief  whose  following  is  in  the 
field.  You  know  every  pass  and  glen  in  the  Highlands,  as 
well  r.c  the  manners  and  customs  of  every  tribe.  Go  therefore 
to  Hr.y,  on  the  right  wing  ;  he  has  instructions,  and  expects  you. 
You  will  find  him  with  Glenmorrison's  men ;  be  his  guide,  his 
interpreter,  and  his  colleague." 

Allan  M'Aulay  bent  on  the  Marquis  a  dark  and  pjsnetrat- 
ing  glance,  as  if  to  ascertain  whether  this  sudden  mission  was 
not  conferred  for  some  latent  and  unexplained  purpose.  But 
MontrosG,  f  dlful  in  searching  the  motives  of  others,  was  an 
equal  adept  in  concealing  his  own.  He  considered  it  as  of 
the  last  consequence,  in  this  moment  of  enthusiasm  and 
exalted  passion,  to  remove  Allan  from  the  camp  for  a  few 


818  [VAVERLEY  NOVELS 

days,  that  he  might  provide,  as  his  honor  required,  for  the 
safety  of  those  who  had  acted  as  his  guides,  when  he  trusted 
the  seer's  quarrel  with  Dalgetty  might  be  easily  made  up. 
Allan,  at  parting,  only  recommended  to  the  Marquis  the  care 
of  Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  whom  Montrose  instantly  directed 
to  be  conveyed  to  a  place  of  safety.  He  took  the  same  pre- 
caution for  MacEagh,  committing  the  latter,  however,  to  a 
party  of  the  Irish,  with  directions  that  he  should  be  taken 
care  of,  but  that  no  Highlander  of  any  clan  should  have  access 
to  him. 

The  Marquis  then  mounted  a  led  horse,  which  was  held  by 
one  of  his  attendants,  and  rode  on  to  view  the  scene  of  his 
victory,  which  was  more  decisive  than  even  his  ardent  hopes 
had  anticipated.  Of  Argyle's  gallant  army  of  three  thousand 
men,  fully  one-half  fell  in  the  battle  or  in  the  flight.  They 
had  been  chiefly  driven  back  upon  that  part  of  the  plain 
where  the  river  forms  an  angle  with  the  lake,  so  that  there 
was  no  free  opening  either  for  retreat  or  escape.  Several 
hundreds  were  forced  into  the  lake  and  drowned.  Of  the 
survivors,  about  one-half  escaped  by  swimming  the  river,  or 
by  an  early  flight  along  the  left  bank  of  the  lake.  The  re- 
mainder threw  themselves  into  the  old  Castle  of  Inverlochy  ; 
but,  being  without  either  provisions  or  hopes  of  relief,  they 
were  obliged  to  surrender,  on  condition  of  being  suffered  to 
return  to  their  homes  in  peace.  Arms,  ammunition,  stand- 
ards, and  baggage,  all  became  the  prey  of  the  conquerors. 

This  was  the  greatest  disaster  that  ever  befell  the  race  of 
Diarmid,  as  the  Campbells  were  called  in  the  Highlands ;  it 
being  generally  remarked  that  they  were  as  fortunate  in  the 
issue  of  their  undertakings  as  they  were  sagacious  in  planning 
and  courageous  in  executing  them.  Of  the  number  slain, 
nearly  five  hundred  were  duinhewassels,  or  gentlemen  claim- 
ing descent  from  known  and  respected  houses.  And,  in  the 
opinion  of  many  of  the  clan,  even  this  heavy  loss  was  exceeded 
by  the  disgrace  arising  from  the  inglorious  conduct  of  their 
Chief,  whose  galley  weighed  anchor  when  the  day  was  lost, 
and  sailed  down  the  lake  with  all  the  speed  to  which  sails  and 
oars  could  impel  her. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Faint  the  din  of  battle  bray'd 
Distant  down  the  hollow  wind  ; 

War  and  terror  fled  before, 
Wounds  and  death  remain'd behind. 

Penrose. 

Montrose's  splendid  success  over  his  powerful  rival  was  not  at- 
tained without  some  loss,  though  not  amounting  to  the  tenth  of 
what  he  inflicted.  The  obstinate  valor  of  the  Campbells  cost 
the  lives  of  many  brave  men  of  the  opposite  party  ;  and  more 
were  wounded,  the  chief  of  whom  was  the  brave  young  Earl 
of  Menteith,  who  had  commanded  the  centre.  He  was  but 
slightly  touched,  however,  and  made  rather  a  graceful  than  a 
terrible  appearance  when  he  presented  to  his  General  the 
standard  of  Argyle,  which  he  had  taken  from  the  standard- 
bearer  with  his  own  hand,  and  slain  him  in  single  combat. 
Montrose  dearly  loved  his  noble  kinsman,  in  whom  there  was 
conspicuous  a  flash  of  the  generous,  romantic,  disin- 
terested chivalry  of  the  old  heroic  times,  entirely  different 
from  the  sordid,  calculating,  and  selfish  character  which  the 
practise  of  entertaining  mercenary  troops  had  introduced  into 
most  parts  of  Europe,  and  of  which  degeneracy  Scotland, 
which  furnished  soldiers  of  fortune  for  the  service  of  almost 
every  nation,  had  been  contaminated  with  a  more  than  usual 
chare.  Montrose,  whose  native  spirit  was  congenial,  although 
experience  had  taught  him  how  to  avail  himself  of  the  motives 
of  others,  used  to  Menteith  neither  the  language  of  praise  nor 
of  promise,  but  clasped  him  to  his  bosom  as  he  exclaimed, 
*'  My  gallant  kinsman  ! "  And  by  this  burst  of  heartfelt 
applause  was  Menteith  thrilled  w4th  a  warmer  glow  of  delight 
than  if  his  praises  had  been  recorded  in  a  report  of  the 
action  sent  directly  to  the  throne  of  his  sovereign. 

*' Nothing,"  he  said,  *^'my  lord,  now  seems  to  remain  in 
which  I  can  render  any  assistance  ;  permit  me  to  look 
after  a  duty  of  humanity  :  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr,  as  I 
am  told,  is  our  prisoner, 'and  severely  wounded." 

'^  And  well  he  deserves  to  be  so,"  said  Sir  Dugald  Dal- 


3S0  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

getty,  who  came  np  to  them  at  that  moment  with  a  prodigious 
addition  of  acquired  importance,  *^  since  he  shot  my  good 
horse  at  the  time  that  I  was  offering  him  honorable  quarter, 
which  I  must  needs  say,  was  done  more  like  an  ignorant 
Highland  cateran,  who  has  not  sense  enough  to  erect  a  sconce 
for  the  protection  of  his  old  hurley-house  of  a  castle,  than 
like  a  soldier  of  worth  and  quality/' 

''  Are  we  to  condole  with  you,  then  ?"  said  Lord  Men- 
teith,  '*^upon  the  loss  of  the  famed  Gustavus?" 

*'  Even  so,  my  lord,''  answered  the  soldier,  with  a  deep 
sigh.  "  Biem  clausit  supremum,  as  we  said  at  the  Marischal 
College  of  Aberdeen.  Better  so  than  be  smothered  like  a 
cadger's  pony  in  some  flow-moss  or  snow-wreath,  which  was 
like  to  be  his  fate  if  this  winter  campaign  lasted  longer.  But 
it  has  pleased  his  Excellency  [making  an  inclination  to  Mon- 
trose] to  supply  his  place  by  the  gift  of  a  noble  steed,  whom 
I  have  taken  the  freedom  to  name  '  Loyalty's  Reward,'  in 
memory  of  this  celebrated  occasion." 

^'  I  hope,"  said  the  Marquis,  "  you'll  find  Loyalty's  Re- 
ward, since  you  call  him  so,  practised  in  all  the  duties  of  the 
field  ;  but  I  must  just  hint  to  you  that,  at  this  time,  in  Scot- 
land, loyalty  is  more  frequently  rewarded  with  a  halter  than 
with  a  horse." 

''  Ahem  !  your  Excellency  is  pleased  to  be  facetious. 
Loyalty's  Reward  is  as  perfect  as  Grustavus  in  all  his  exer- 
cises, and  of  a  far  finer  figure.  Marry  !  his  social  qualities 
are  less  cultivated,  in  respect  he  has  kept  till  now  inferior 
company." 

**  Not  meaning  his  Excellency  the  General,  I  hope,"  said 
Lord  Menteith.     "  For  shame.  Sir  Dugald  !  " 

"My  Lord,"  answered  the  Knight,  gravely,  ''I  am  in- 
capable to  mean  anything  so  utterly  misbecoming.  What  I 
asseverate  is,  that  his  Excellency,  having  the  same  intercourse 
with  his  horse  during  his  exercise  that  he  hath  with  his 
soldiers  when  training  them,  may  form  and  break  either  to 
every  feat  of  war  which  he  chooses  to  practise,  and  accord- 
ingly that  this  noble  charter  is  S-dmirably  managed.  But  as 
it  is  the  intercourse  of  private  life  that  formeth  the  social 
character,  so  I  do  not  apprehend  that  of  the  single  soldier  to 
be  much  polished  by  the  conversation  of  the  corporal  or  the 
sergeant,  or  that  of  Loyalty's  Reward  to  have  been  much  dulci- 
fied or  ameliorated  by  the  society  of  his  Excellency's  grooms, 
who  bestow  more  oaths  and  kicks  and  thumps  than  kindness 
or  caresses  upon  the  animals  intrusted  to  their  charge  ; 
whereby  many  a  generous  quadruped,  rendered  as  it  were 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  321 

misanthropic,  manifests  during  the  rest  of  his  life  a  greater 
desire  to  kick  and  bite  his  master  than  to  love  and  to  honor 
him/' 

'*  Spoken  like  an  oracle/'  said  Montrose.  ^'  Were  there 
an  academy  for  the  education  of  horses  to  be  annexed  to  the 
Marischal  College  of  Aberdeen,  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty  alone 
should  fill  the  chair/' 

'^  Because,  being  an  ass/'  said  Menteith,  aside  to  the 
General,  'Hhere  would  be  some  distant  relation  between  the 
professor  and  the  students." 

"And  now,  with  your  Excellency's  permission,"  said  the 
new-made  Knight,  "I  am  going  to  pay  my  last  visit  to  the 
remains  of  my  old  companion  in  arms." 

*'  Not  with  the  purpose  of  going  through  the  ceremonial 
of  interment  ?"  said  the  Marquis,  who  did  not  know  how  far 
Sir  Dugald's  enthusiasm  might  lead  him.  "  Consider,  our 
brave  fellows  themselves  will  have  but  a  hasty  burial." 

'*  Your  Excellency  will  pardon  me,"  said  Dalgetty  ;  "my 
purpose  is  less  romantic.  I  go  to  divide  poor  Gustavus's  legacy 
with  the  fowls  of  heaven,  leaving  the  flesh  to  them  and  reserv- 
ing to  myself  his  hide  ;  which,  in  token  of  affectionate  remem- 
brance, I  purpose  to  form  into  a  cassock  and  trowsers,  after 
the  Tartar  fashion,  to  be  worn  under  my  armor,  in  respect 
my  nether  garments  are  at  present  shamefully  the  worse  of 
the  wear.  Alas !  poor  Gustavus,  why  didst  thou  not  live  at 
least  one  hour  more,  to  have  borne  the  honored  weight  of 
kniglithood  upon  thy  loins  !  " 

He  was  now  turning  away,  when  the  Marquis  called  after 
him — "As  yon  are  not  likely  to  be  anticipated  in  this  act  of 
kindness.  Sir  Dugald,  to  your  old  friend  and  companion,  1 
trust,"  said  the  Marquis,  "you  will  first  assist  me  and  our 
principal  friends  to  discuss  some  of  Argyle's  good  cheer,  of 
which  we  have  found  abundance  in  the  castle." 

"  Most  willingly,  please  your  Excellency,"  said  Sir  Dugald  ; 
"  as  meat  and  mass  never  hinder  work.  Nor,  indeed,  am  I 
afraid  that  the  wolves  or  eagles  will  begin  an  onslaught  on 
Gustavus  to-night,  in  regard  there  is  so  much  better  cheer  ly- 
ing all  around.  But,"  added  he,  "as  lam  to  meet  two 
honorable  knights  of  England,  with  others  of  the  knightly 
degree  in  your  lordship's  army,  I  pray  it  may  be  explained  to 
them  that  now,  and  in  future,  I  claim  precedence  over  them 
all,  in  respect  of  my  rank  as  a  banneret,  dubbed  in  a  field  of 
stricken  battle." 

"The  devil  confound  him!"  said  Montrose,  speaking 
aside ;  "  he  has  contrived  to  set  the  kiln  on  fire  as  fast  as  I 


82d  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

put  it  out  This  is  a  point,  Sir  Dugald/*  said  he,  graveiy 
addressing  him,  "which  I  shall  reserve  for  his  Majesty's  ex- 
press consideration  ;  in  my  camp,  all  must  be  upon  equality, 
like  the  Knights  of  the  Bound  Table,  and  take  their  places 
as  soldiers  should,  upon  the  principle  of — first  come,  first 
served/' 

''Then  I  shall  take  care,''  said  Menteith,  apart  to  the 
Marquis,  "  that  Don  Dugald  is  not  first  in  place  to-day.  Sir 
Dugald," added  he,  raising  his  voice,  "as  you  say  your  ward- 
robe is  out  of  repair,  had  you  not  better  go  to  the  enemy's 
baggage  yonder,  over  which  there  is  a  guard  placed  ?  I  saw 
them  take  out  an  excellent  buff  suit,  embroidered  in  front  in 
silk  and  silver." 

"  Voto  a  Dios!  as  the  Spaniard  says,"  exclaimed  the 
Major,  "and  some  beggarly  gillie  may  get  it  while  I  stand 
prating  here  ! " 

The  prospect  of  booty  having  at  once  driven  out  of  his 
head  both  G-ustavus  and  the  provant,  he  set  spurs  to  Loyalty's 
Reward  and  rode  off  through  the  field  of  battle. 

"  There  goes  the  hound,"  said  Menteith,  "  breaking  the 
face  and  trampling  on  the  body  of  many  a  better  man  than 
himself ;  and  as  eager  on  his  sordid  spoil  as  a  vulture  that 
stoops  upon  carrion.  Yet  this  man  the  world  calls  a  soldier ; 
and  you,  my  lord,  select  him  as  worthy  of  the  honors  of 
chivalry,  if  such  they  can  at  this  day  be  termed.  You  have 
made  the  collar  of  knighthood  the  decoration  of  a  mere 
bloodhound." 

"  What  could  I  do  ?"  said  Montrose.     "  I  had  no  half- 
picked  bones  to  give  him,  and  bribed  in  some  manner  h 
must  be  :  I  cannot  follow  the  chase  alone.     Besides,  the  dog 
has  good  qualities." 

"  If  nature  has  given  him  such,"  said  Menteith,  "  habit 
has  converted  them  into  feelings  of  intense  selfishness.  He 
may  be  punctilious  concerning  his  reputation,  and  brave  in 
the  execution  of  his  duty,  but  it  is  only  because  without  these 
qualities  he  cannot  rise  in  the  service  ;  nay,  his  very  benevo- 
lence is  selfish  :  he  may  defend  his  companion  while  he  can 
keep  his  feet,  but  the  instant  he  is  down.  Sir  Dugald  will  be 
as  ready  to  ease  him  of  his  purse  as  he  is  to  convert  the  skin 
of  Gustavus  into  a  buff  jerkin." 

"And  yet,  if  all  this  were  true,  cousin,"  answered  Mon- 
trose, "  there  is  something  convenient  in  commanding  a  sol- 
dier upon  whose  motives  and  springs  of  action  you  can  calcu- 
late to  a  mathematical  certainty.  A  fine  spirit  like  yours, 
my  cousin,  alive  to  a  thousand  sensations  to  which  tliis  man's 


A  LEGEND  OF  MOXTROSE  323 

is  as  impervious  as  his  corselet — it  is  for  such  that  thy  friend 
must  feel,  while  he  gives  his  advice/^  Then,  suddenly 
changing  his  tone,  he  asked  Menteith  when  he  had  seen  An- 
not  Lyle. 

The  young  Earl  colored  deeply,  and  answered,  '*  Not 
since  last  evening — excepting,'^  he  added,  with  hesitation, 
''  for  one  moment,  about  half  an  hour  before  the  battle  be- 
gan." 

"My  dear  Menteith,"  said  Montrose,  very  kindly,  '*were 
you  one  of  the  gay  Cavaliers  of  Whitehall,  who  are,  in  their 
way,  as  great  self-seekers  as  our  friend  Dalgetty,  should  I 
need  to  plague  you  with  inquiring  into  such  an  amorette  as 
this  ?  it  would  be  an  intrigue  only  to  be  laughed  at.  But  this 
is  the  land  of  enchantment,  where  nets  strong  as  steel  are 
wrought  out  of  ladiesHresses,  and  you  are  exactly  the  destined 
knight  to  be  so  fettered.  This  poor  girl  is  exquisitely  beauti- 
ful, and  has  talents  formed  to  captivate  your  romantic  tem- 
per. You  cannot  think  of  injuring  her ;  you  cannot  think 
of  marrying  her  ?  " 

'•My  lord,"  replied  Menteith,  "you  have  repeatedly  urged 
this  jest,  for  so  I  trust  it  is  meant,  somewhat  beyond  bounds. 
Annot  Lyle  is  of  unknown  birth,  a  captive,  the  daughter, 
probably,  of  some  obscure  outlaw,  a  dependant  on  the  hospi- 
tality of  the  M'Aulays." 

"  Do  not  be  angry,  Menteith,"  said  the  Marquis,  inter- 
rupting him.  "You  love  the  classics,  though  not  edacated 
at  Marischal  College ;  and  you  may  remember  how  many  gal- 
lant hearts  captive  beauty  has  subdued  : 

"  *  Movit  Ajacem,  Telamone  natum, 
Forma  captivse  dominum  TecmessaB.* 

In  a  word,  I  am  seriously  anxious  about  this.  I  should  not 
have  time,  perhaps,"  he  added,  very  gravely,,  "to  trouble  you 
with  my  lectures  on  the  subject,  were  your  feelings  and  those 
of  Annot  alone  interested  ;  but  you  have  a  dangerous  rival  in 
Allan  M^Aulay,  and  there  is  no  knowing  to  what  extent  he 
may  carry  his  resentment.  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  the 
King's  service  may  be  much  prejudiced  by  dissensions  betwixt 
you." 

" My  lord,"  said  Menteith,  "I  know  what  you  mean  is 
kind  and  friendly.  I  hope  you  will  be  satisfied  when  I  assure 
you  that  Allan  M'Aulay  and  I  have  discussed  this  circum- 
stance ;  and  that  I  have  explained  to  him  that,  as  it  is  utterly 
remote  from  my  character  to  entertain  dishonorable  views 
concerning  this  unprotected  female,  so,  on  the  other  hand. 


824  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  obscurity  of  her  birth  prevents  my  thinking  of  her  upon 
other  terms.  I  will  not  disguise  from  your  lordship,  what  I 
have  not  disguised  from  M^Aulay,  that,  if  Annot  Lyle  were 
born  a  lady,  she  should  share  my  name  and  rank ;  as  mat- 
ters stand,  it  is  impossible.  This  explanation,  I  trust,  will 
satisfy  your  lordship,  as  it  has  satisfied  a  less  reasonable  per- 
son." 

Montrose  shrugged  his  shoulders.  '^  And  like  true  cham- 
pions in  romance,"  he  said,  '^'^you  have  agreed  that  you  are 
both  to  worship  the  same  mistress,  as  idolaters  do  the  same 
image,  and  that  neither  shall  extend  his  pretensions  farther  ?  " 

"I  did  not  go  so  far,  my  lord,"  answered  Menteith  ;  ''  I 
only  said  in  the  present  circumstances — and  there  is  no  pros- 
pect of  their  being  changed — I  could  in  duty  to  myself  and 
family,  stand  in  no  relation  to  Annot  Lyle  but  as  that  of 
friend  or  brotlier.  But  your  lordship  must  excuse  me ;  I 
have,"  said  he,  looking  at  his  arm,  round  which  he  had  tied 
his  handkerchief,  '^2^,  slight  hurt  to  attend  to." 

'^  A  wound  ?  "  said  Montrose,  anxiously  ;  '^  let  me  see  it. 
Alas  !  "  he  said,  "  I  should  have  heard  nothing  of  this,  had  I 
not  ventured  to  tent  and  sound  another  more  secret  and  more 
rankling  one.  Menteith,  I  am  sorry  for  you  ;  I  too  have 
known — but  what  avails  it  to  awake  sorrows  which  have  long 
slumbered ! " 

So  saying,  he  shook  hands  with  his  noble  kinsman  and 
walked  into  the  castle. 

Annot  Lyle,  as  was  not  unusual  for  females  in  the  High- 
lands, was  possessed  of  a  slight  degree  of  medical  and  even 
surgical  skill.  It  may  readily  be  believed  that  theiprofession 
of  surgery  or  medicine,  as  a  separate  art,  was  unknown  ;  and 
the  few  rude  rules  which  they  observed  were  intrusted  to 
women  or  to  the  aged,  whom  constant  casualties  afforded  too 
much  opportunity  of  acquiring  experience.  The  care  and 
attention,  accordingly,  of  Annot  Lyle,  her  attendants,  and 
3thers  acting  under  her  direction,  had  made  her  services  ex- 
tremely useful  during  this  wild  campaign.  And  most  readily  had 
these  services  been  rendered  to  friend  and  foe,  wherever  they 
could  be  most  useful.  She  was  now  in  an  apartment  of  the 
castle,  anxiously  superintending  the  preparation  of  vulnerary 
herbs  to  be  applied  to  the  wounded  ;  receiving  reports  from 
different  females  respecting  those  under  their  separate  charge, 
and  distributing  what  means  she  had  for  their  relief, 
when  Allan  M'Aulay  suddenly  entered  the  apartment.  She 
started,  for  she  had  heard  that  he  had  left  the  camp  upon  a 
distant  mission ;  and,  however  accustomed  she  was  to  the 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  825 

gloom  of  liis  countenance  it  seemed  at  present  to  have  even 
a  darker  shade  than  usual.  He  stood  before  her  perfectly 
silent,  and  she  felt  the  necessity  of  being  the  first  to  speak. 

'^I  thought/^she  said,  with  some  effort,  **  you  had  already 
set  out  " 

*^My  companion  awaits  m.e/'  said  Allan;  '*1  go  in- 
stantly/^ 

Yet  still  he  stood  before  her,  and  held  her  by  the  arm  with 
a  pressure  which,  though  insufficient  to  give  her  pain,  made 
her  sensible  of  his  great  personal  strength,  his  hand  closing  on 
her  Kke  tlie  grip  of  a  manacle. 

'^  Shall  I  take  the  harp  ?  ''  she  said,  in  a  timid  voice  ;  "  is — 
is  the  shadow  falling  upon  you  ?'' 

Instead  of  replying,  he  led  her  to  the  window  of  the  apart- 
ment, which  commanded  a  view  of  the  field  of  the  slain,  with 
all  its  horrors.  It  was  thick-spread  with  dead  and  wounded, 
and  the  spoilers  were  busy  tearing  the  clothes  from  the  victims 
of  war  and  feudal  ambition,  with  as  much  indifference  as  if 
they  had  not  been  of  the  same  species,  and  themselves  ex- 
posed, perhaps  to-morrow,  to  the  same  fate. 

^^  Does  the  sight  please  you  ?  "  said  M^Aulay. 

*'  It  is  hideous  V  said  Annot,  covering  her  eyes  with  her 
hands ;  "  how  can  yon  bid  me  look  upon  it  ?'' 

"  You  must  be  inured  to  it,^'  said  he,  *'it  you  remain  with 
this  destined  host ;  you  will  soon  have  to  search  such  a  field 
for  my  brother's  corpse — for  Menteith's — for  mine.  But  that 
will  be  a  more  indifferent  task  :  you  do  not  love  me  V 

'*  This  is  the  first  time  you  have  taxed  me  with  unkind- 
ness,''  said  Annot,  weeping.  *'  You  are  my  brother — my  pre- 
server— my  protector,  and  can  I  then  but  love  you  ?  But 
your  hour  of  darkness  is  approaching,  let  me  fetch  my 
harp " 

'*  Remain,'*  said  Allan,  still  holding  her  fast;  "be  my 
visions  from  heaven  or  hell,  or  from  the  middle  sphere  of  dis- 
embodied spirits,  or  be  they,  as  the  Saxons  hold,  but  the  de- 
lusions of  an  overheated  fancy,  they  do  not  now  influence  me: 
I  speak  the  language  of  the  natural,  of  the  visible  world. 
You  love  not  me,  Annot ;  you  love  Menteith,  by  him  you  are 
beloved  again  ;  and  Allan  is  no  more  to  you  than  one  of  the 
corpses  which  encumber  yonder  heath.'' 

It  cannot  be  supposed  that  this  strange  speech  conveyed 
any  new  information  to  her  who  was  thus  addressed.  No 
woman  ever  lived  who  could  not  in  the  same  circumstances 
have  discerned  long  since  the  state  of  her  lover's  mind.  But, 
by  thus  suddenly  tearing  off  the  veil,  thin  as  it  was,  Allan 


826  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

prepared  her  to  ex}3ect  consequences  violent  in  proportion  to 
the  enthusiasm  of  his  character.  She  made  an  effort  to  repel 
the  charge  he  had  stated. 

'*  You  forget,"  she  said,  ''your  own  worth  and  nobleness 
when  you  insult  so  very  helpless  a  being,  and  one  whom  fate 
has  thrown  so  totally  into  your  power.  You  know  who  and 
what  I  am,  and  how  impossible  it  is  that  Menteith  or  you  can 
use  language  of  affection  to  me,  beyond  that  of  friendship. 
You  know  from  what  unhappy  race  I  have  too  probably  de- 
rived my  existence." 

"  I  will  not  believe  it,"  said  Allan,  impetuously  ;  "  never 
flowed  crystal  drop  from  a  polluted  spring." 

"  Yet  the  very  doubt,"  pleaded  Anno  t,  "should  make  you 
forbear  to  use  this  language  to  me." 

"  I  know,"  said  M^Aulay, ''  it  places  a  bar  between  us,  but 
I  know  also  that  it  divides  you  not  so  inseparably  from  Men- 
teith. Hear  me,  my  beloved  Annot !  leave  this  scene  of  ter- 
rors and  danger  ;  go  with  me  to  Kintail.  I  will  place  you  in 
the  house  of  the  noble  Lady  of  Seaforth  ;  or  you  shall  be  re- 
moved in  safety  to  Icolmkill,  where  some  women  yet  devote 
themselves  to  the  worship  of  God  after  the  custom  of  oui 
ancestors." 

"  You  consider  not  what  you  ask  of  me,"  replied  Annot ; 
"  to  undertake  such  a  journey  under  your  sole  guardianship 
were  to  show  me  less  scrupulous  than  maiden  ought.  I  will 
remain  here,  Allan — here  under  the  protection  of  the  noble 
Montrose  ;  and  when  his  motions  next  approach  the  Lowlands 
I  will  contrive  some  proper  means  to  relieve  you  of  one  who 
has,  she  knows  not  how,  become  an  object  of  dislike  to  you.^ 

Allan  stood  as  if  uncertain  whether  to  g^ve  way  to  sym- 
pathy  with  her  distress  or  to  anger  at  her  resistance. 

''Annot,"  he  said,  "you  know  too  well  how  little  yom 
words  apply  to  my  feelings  towards  you  ;  but  you  avail  your- 
self of  your  power,  and  you  rejoice  in  my  departure  as  remov- 
ing a  spy  upon  your  intercourse  with  Menteith.  But  beware 
both  of  you,"  he  added,  in  a  stern  tone,  "  for  when  was  it 
ever  hoard  that  an  injury  was  offered  to  Allan  M'Aulay  for 
which  he  exacted  not  tenfold  vengeance  ?  " 

So  saying,  he  pressed  her  arm  forcibly,  pulled  the  bonnet 
over  his  brows,  and  strode  out  of  the  apartment. 


CHAPTEK  XXI 

After  you're  gone, 
I  grew  acquainted  with  my  heart,  and  search'd 
What  stirr'd  it  so.     Alas  !  I  found  it  love. 
Yet  far  from  lust,  for  could  I  but  have  lived 
In  presence  of  you,  I  had  had  my  end. 

PhUaster. 

Annot  Lyle  had  now  to  contemplate  the  terrible  gulf  which 
Allan  M'Aulay's  declaration  of  love  and  jealousy  had  made  to 
open  around  her.  It  seemed  as  if  she  was  tottering  on  the 
very  brink  of  destruction,  and  was  at  once  deprived  of  every 
refuge  and  of  all  human  assistance.  She  had  long  been  con- 
scious that  she  loved  Menteith  dearer  than  a  brother  ;  indeed, 
how  could  it  be  otherwise,  considering  their  early  intimacy, 
the  personal  merit  of  the  young  nobleman,  his  assiduous  at- 
tentions, and  his  infinite  superiority  in  gentleness  of  disposi- 
tion and  grace  of  manners  over  the  race  of  rude  warriors  with 
whom  she  lived  ?  But  her  affection  was  of  that  quiet,  timid, 
meditative  character  which  sought  rather  a  reflected  share  in 
the  happiness  of  the  beloved  object  than  formed  more  pre- 
sumptuous or  daring  hopes.  A  little  Gaelic  song,  in  which 
she  expressed  her  feelings,  has  been  translated  by  the  ingeni- 
ous and  unhappy  Andrew  McDonald;*  and  we  willingly 
transcribe  the  lines  : 

Wert  thou,  like  me,  in  life's  low  vale, 

With  thee,  how  blest,  that  lot  I'd  share  ; 
With  thee,  I'd  fly  wherever  gale 

Could  waft  or  bounding  galley  bear. 
But  parted  by  severe  decree. 

Far  different  must  our  fortunes  prove  : 
May  thine  be  joy  ;  enough  for  me 

To  weep  and  pray  for  him  I  love. 

The  pangs  this  foolish  heart  must  feel, 

When  hope  shall  be  forever  flown, 
No  sullen  murmur  shall  reveal. 

No  selfish  murmurs  ever  own. 
Nor  will  I  through  life's  weary  years, 

Like  a  pale  drooping  mourner  move, 
While  I  can  think  my  secret  tears 

May  wound  the  heart  of  him  I  love 
*  See  Andrew  M'Donald.    Note  iO. 


328  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

The  furious  declaration  of  Allan  had  destroyed  the  ro- 
mantic plan  which  she  had  formed  of  nursing  in  secret  her 
Eensive  tenderness,  without  seeking  any  other  requital, 
long  before  this,  she  had  dreaded  Allan,  as  much  as  gratitude, 
and  a  sense  that  he  softened  towards  her  a  temper  so  haughty 
and  so  violent,  could  permit  her  to  do  ;  but  now  she  regarded 
him  with  unalloyed  terror,  which  a  perfect  knowledge  of  his 
disposition  and  of  his  preceding  history  too  well  authorized 
her  to  entertain.  Whatever  was  in  other  respects  the  noble- 
ness of  his  disposition,  he  had  never  been  known  to  resist 
the  wilfulness  of  passion  :  he  walked  in  the  house  and  in 
the  country  of  his  fathers  like  a  tamed  lion,  whom  no  one 
dared  to  contradict,  lest  they  should  awaken  his  natural  vehe- 
mence of  passion.  So  many  years  had  elapsed  since  he  had 
experienced  contradiction,  or  even  expostulation,  that  prob- 
ably nothing  but  the  strong  good  sense  which  on  all  points, 
his  mysticism  excepted,  formed  the  ground  of  his  character, 
prevented  his  proving  an  annoyance  and  terror  to  the  whole 
neighborhood.  But  Annot  had  no  time  to  dwell  upon 
her  fears,  being  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Sir  Dugald 
Dalgetty. 

it  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  scenes  in  which  this 
person  had  passed  his  former  life  had  not  much  qualified  him 
to  shine  in  female  society.  He  himself  felt  a  sort  of  conscious- 
ness that  the  language  of  the  barrack,  guard-room,  and  pa- 
rade was  not  proper  to  entertain  ladies.  The  only  peaceful 
part  of  his  life  had  been  spent  at  Marischal  College,  Aber- 
deen; and  he  had  forgot  the  little  he  had  learned  there, 
except  the  arts  of  darning  his  own  hose  and  dispatching  his 
commons  with  unusual  celerity,  both  which  had  since  been 
kept  in  good  exercise  by  the  necessity  of  frequent  practice. 
Still  it  was  from  an  imperfect  recollection  of  what  he  had 
acquired  during  this  pacific  period  that  he  drew  his  sources 
of  conversation  when  in  company  with  women ;  in  other 
words,  his  language  became  pedantic  when  it  ceased  to  be 
military. 

"  Mistress  Annot  Lyle,'^  said  he,  upon  the  present 
occasion,  "  I  am  just  now  like  the  half-pike  or  spontoon  of 
Achilles,  one  end  of  which  could  wound  and  the  other  cure — 
a  property  belonging  neither  to  Spanish  pike,  brown-bill, 
partisan,  halberd,  Lochaber  axe,  or  indeed  any  other  modern 
staff- weapon  whatever." 

This  compliment  he  repeated  twice  ;  but  as  Annot  scarce 
heard  him  the  first  time,  and  did  not  comprehend  him  the 
second,  he  was  obliged  to  explain. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  829 

''  I  mean/'  he  said,  "  Mistress  Annot  Lyle,  that,  having 
been  the  means  of  an  honorable  knight  receiving  a  severe 
wound  in  this  day's  conflict,  he  having  pistolled,  somewhat 
against  the  law  of  arms,  my  horse,  which  was  named  after 
the  immortal  King  of  Sweden,  I  am  desirous  of  procuring 
him  such  solacement  as  you,  madam,  can  supply  ;  you  being, 
like  the  heathen  god  Esculapius  (meaning  possibly  Apollo], 
skilful  not  only  in  song  and  in  music,  but  in  the  more  noble 
art  of  chirurgery  :  opiferque  per  orhem  dicor." 

^'  If  you  would  have  the  goodness  to  explain/' said  Annot, 
toe  sick  at  hoart  to  be  amused  by  Sir  Dugald's  airs  of  pedantic 
gallantry. 

'^  That,  madam,"  replied  the  Knight,  *'  may  not  be  so 
easy,  as  I  am  out  of  the  habit  of  construing  ;  but  wc  shall 
try.  Dicor,  supply  ego — I  am  called.  Opifer!  opifer!  I 
remember  signifer  ?ivAfurcifer,  but  I  believe  opifer  stands 
in  this  place  for  M.  D.,  that  is,  Doctor  of  Physic. 

''This  is  a  busy  day  with  us  all," said  Annot ;  "  will  you 
say  at  once  what  you  want  with  me  ? '' 

"  Merely,"  replied  Sir  Dugald,  "  that  you  will  visit  my 
brother  knight,  and  let  your  maiden  bring  some  medicaments 
for  his  wound,  which  threatens  to  be  what  the  learned  call  a 
damnum  fatale, " 

Annot  Lyle  never  lingered  in  the  cause  of  humanity.  She 
informed  herself  hastily  of  the  nature  of  the  injury,  and  in- 
teresting herself  for  the  dignified  old  Chief  whom  she  had 
seen  at  Darnlinvarach,  and  whose  presence  had  so  much 
struck  her,  she  hastened  to  lose  the  sense  of  her  own  sorrow 
for  a  time  in  the  attempt  to  be  useful  to  another. 

Sir  Dugald  with  great  form  ushered  Annot  Lyle  to  the 
chamber  of  her  patient,  in  which,  to  her  surprise,  she  found 
Lord  Menteith.  She  could  not  help  blushing  deeply  at  the 
meeting,  but,  to  hide  her  confusion,  proceeded  instantly  to 
examine  the  wound  of  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr,  and  easily 
satisfied  herself  that  it  was  beyond  her  skill  to  cure  it.  As 
for  Sir  Dugald,  he  returned  to  a  large  outhouse,  on  the  floor 
of  which,  among  other  wounded  men,  was  deposited  the  per- 
son of  Ranald  of  the  Mist. 

''  Mine  old  friend,"  said  the  Knight,  "as  I  told  you  before, 
I  would  willingly  do  anything  to  pleasure  you,  in  return  for 
the  wound  you  have  received  while  under  my  safe-conduct. 
I  have,  therefore,  according  to  your  earnest  request,  sent  Mrs. 
Annot  Lyle  to  attend  upon  the  wound  of  the  Knight  of 
Ardenvohr,  though  wherein  her  doing  so  should  benefit  you  I 
cannot  imagine.     I  think  you  once  spoke  of  some  blood  rela- 


830  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tionship  between  them  ;  but  a  soldado,  in  command  and  charge 
like  me,  has  other  things  to  trouble  his  head  with  than  High- 
land genealogies." 

And  indeed,  to  do  the  worthy  Major  justice,  he  never  in- 
quired after,  listened  to,  or  recollected  the  business  of  other 
people,  unless  it  either  related  to  the  art  military  or  was  some- 
how or  other  connected  with  his  own  interest,  in  either  of 
which  cases  his  memory  was  very  tenacious. 

''And  now,  my  good  friend  of  the  Mist,"  said  he,  *'can 
you  tell  me  what  has  become  of  your  hopeful  grandson,  as  I 
have  not  seen  him  since  he  assisted  me  to  disarm  after  the 
action,  a  negligence  which  deserveth  the  strapado  ?" 

''He  is  not  far  from  hence,"  said  the  wounded  outlaw; 
"  lift  not  your  hand  upon  him,  for  he  is  man  enough  to  pay 
a  yard  of  leathern  scourge  with  a  foot  of  tempered  steel." 

"  A  most  improper  vaunt,"  said  Sir  Dugald  ;  "but  I  owe 
you  some  favors,  Ranald,  and  therefore  shall  let  it  pass." 

"  And  if  you  think  you  owe  me  anything,"  said  the  out- 
law, "  it  is  in  your  power  to  requite  me  by  granting  me  a 
boon." 

"Friend  Ranald,"  answered  Dalgetty,  "I  have  read  of 
these  boons  in  silly  story-books,  whereby  simple  knights  were 
drawn  into  engagements  to  their  great  prejudice ;  wherefore, 
Ranald,  the  more  prudent  knights  of  this  day  never  promise 
anything  until  they  know  that  they  may  keep  their  word 
anent  the  premises,  without  any  displeasure  or  incommode- 
ment  to  themselves.  It  may  be,  you  would  have  me  engage 
the  female  chirurgeon  to  visit  your  wound  ;  though  you 
ought  to  consider,  Ranald,  that  the  uncleanness  of  the  place 
where  you  are  deposited  may  somewhat  soil  the  gayety  of  her 
garments,  concerning  the  preservation  of  which,  you  may 
have  observed,  women  are  apt  to  be  inordinately  solicitous. 
I  lost  the  favor  of  the  lady  of  the  Grand  Pensionary  of  Am- 
sterdam by  touching  with  the  sole  of  my  boot  the  train  of  her 
black  velvet  gown,  which  I  mistook  for  a  foot-cloth,  it  being 
half  the  room  distant  from  her  person." 

"  It  is  not  to  bring  Annot  Lyle  hither,"  answered  Mac- 
Eagh,  "  but  to  transport  me  into  the  room  where  she  is  in 
attendance  upon  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr.  Somewhat  I 
have  to  say  of  the  last  consequence  to  them  both." 

"  It  is  something  out  of  the  order  of  due  precedence," 
said  Dalgetty,  "  to  carry  a  wounded  outlaw  into  the  presence 
of  a  knight,  knighthood  having  been  of  yore,  and  being  in 
some  respects  still,  the  highest  military  grade,  independent 
always  of  commissioned  officers,  who  rank  according  to  their 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  381 

patents  ;  nevertheless,  as  your  boon,  as  you  call  it,  is  so  slight, 
I  shall  not  deny  compliance  with  the  same/'  So  saying,  he 
ordered  three  files  of  men  to  transport  MacEagh  on  their 
shoulders  to  Sir  Duncan  Oampbeirs  apartment,  and  he  him- 
self hastened  before  to  announce  the  cause  of  his  being 
brought  thither.  But  such  was  the  activity  of  the  soldiers 
employed,  that  they  followed  him  close  at  the  heels,  and,  en- 
tering with  their  ghastly  burden,  laid  MacEagh  on  the  floor 
of  the  apartment.  His  features,  naturally  wild,  were  now 
distorted  by  pain,  his  hands  and  scanty  garments  stained 
with  his  own  blood  and  that  of  others,  which  no  kind  hand 
had  wiped  away,  although  the  wound  in  his  side  had  been 
secured  by  a  bandage. 

*^  Are  you, ^^  he  said,  raising  his  head  painfully  towards 
the  couch  where  lay  stretched  his  late  antagonist,  "  he  whom 
men  call  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  ?  " 

'^  The  same/^  answered  Sir  Duncan;  ''what  would  you 
with  one  whose  hours  are  now  numbered  ? '' 

''My  hours  are  reduced  to  minutes,^'  said  the  outlaw; 
"  the  more  grace,  if  I  bestow  them  in  the  service  of  one 
whose  hand  has  ever  been  against  me,  as  mine  has  been  raised 
higher  against  him.'' 

"Thine  higher  against  me,  crushed  worm!''  said  the 
Knight,  looking  down  on  his  miserable  adversary. 

"  Yes,''  answered  the  outlaw,  in  a  firm  voice,  "  my  arm 
hath  been  highest.  In  the  deadly  contest  betwixt  us,  the 
wounds  I  have  dealt  have  been  deepest,  though  thine  have 
neither  been  idle  nor  unfelt.  I  am  Ranald  MacEagh — I  am 
Eanald  of  the  Mist ;  the  night  that  I  gave  thy  castle  to  the 
winds  in  one  huge  blaze  of  fire  is  now  matched  with  the  day 
in  which  you  have  fallen  under  the  sword  of  my  fathers. 
Remember  the  injuries  thou  hast  done  our  tribe  ;  never  were 
such  inflicted,  save  by  one  beside  thee.  He,  they  say,  is 
fated  and  secure  against  our  vengeance ;  a  short  time  will 
show." 

"  My  Lord  Menteith,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  raising  himself 
out  of  his  bed,  "  this  is  a  proclaimed  villain,  at  once  the  enemy 
of  King  and  Parliament,  of  God  and  man,  one  of  the  outlawed 
banditti  of  the  Mist,  alike  the  enemy  of  your  house,  of  the 
M'Aulays,  and  of  mine.  I  trust  you  will  not  suffer  moments 
which  are  perhaps  my  last  to  be  embittered  by  his  barbarous 
triumph." 

"  He  shall  have  the  treatment  he  merits,"  said  Menteith; 
^'let  him  be  instantly  removed." 

Sir  Dugald  here  interposed,  and  spoke  of  Ranald's  services 


333  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

as  a  guide,  and  his  own  pledge  for  his  safety ;  but  the  high 
harsh  tones  of  the  outlaw  drowned  his  voice. 

''  No,"  said  he,  '^  be  rack  and  gibbet  the  word  !  Let  me 
wither  between  heaven  and  earth,  and  gorge  the  hawks  and 
eagles  of  Ben  Nevis  ;  and  so  shall  this  haughty  Knight  and 
this  triumphant  Thane  never  learn  the  secret  I  alone  can  im- 
part ;  a  secret  which  would  make  Ardenvohr's  heart  leap  with 
joy  were  he  in  the  death-agony,  and  which  the  Earl  of  Men- 
teith  would  purchase  at  the  price  of  his  broad  earldom. 
Come  hither,  Annot  Lyle,"  he  said,  raising  himself  with  un- 
expected strength  ;  ^^fear  not  the  sight  of  him  to  whom  thou 
hast  clung  in  infancy.  Tell  these  proud  men,  who  disdain 
thee  as  the  issue  of  mine  ancient  race,  that  thou  art  no  blood 
of  ours — no  daughter  of  the  race  of  the  Mist,  but  born  in  halls 
as  lordly,  and  cradled  on  couch  as  soft,  as  ever  soothed  in- 
fancy in  their  proudest  palaces." 

*'  In  the  name  of  God,"  said  Menteith,  trembling  with 
emotion,  '^if  you  know  aught  of  the  birth  of  this  lady,  do  thy 
conscience  the  justice  to  disburden  it  of  the  secret  before  de- 
parting from  this  world. " 

^'^  And  bless  my  enemies  with  my  dying  breath?  "said 
MacEagh,  looking  at  him  malignantly.  '^Such  are  the 
maxims  your  priests  preach  ;  but  when,  or  towards  whom,  do 
you  practise  them  ?  Let  me  know  first  the  worth  of  my 
secret  ere  I  part  with  it.  What  would  you  give.  Knight  of 
Ardenvohr,  to  know  that  your  superstitious  fasts  have  been 
vain,  and  that  there  still  remains  a  descendant  of  your  house  ? 
I  pause  for  an  answer ;  without  it  I  speak  not  one  word 
more." 

*'  I  could,"  said  Sir  Duncan,  his  voice  struggling  between 
the  emotions  of  doubt,  hatred,  and  anxiety — '^I  could — but 
that  I  know  thy  race  are  like  the  Great  Enemy,  liars  and 
murderers  from  the  beginning — but  could  it  be  true  thou 
tellest  me,  I  could  almost  forgive  thee  the  injuries  thou  hast 
done  me." 

*'  Hear  it !  "  said  Eanald  ;  ''he  hath  wagered  deeply  for  a 
Son  of  Diarmid.  And  you,  gentle  Thane — the  report  of  the 
camp  says  that  you  would  purchase  with  life  and  lands  the 
tidings  that  Annot  Lyle  was  no  daughter  of  proscription,  but 
of  a  race  noble  in  your  estimation  as  your  own.  Well,  it  is 
for  no  love  I  tell  you.  The  time  has  been  that  I  would  have 
exchanged  this  secret  against  liberty  ;  I  am  now  bartering  it 
for  what  is  dearer  than  liberty  or  life.  Annot  Lyle  is  the 
youngest,  the  sole  surviving  child  of  the  Knight  of  Arden- 
vohr, who  alone  was  saved  when  all  in  his  halls  besides  was 
given  to  blood  and  ashes." . 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  333 

'^  Can  this  man  speak  truth  ? ''  said  Annot  Lyle,  scarce 
knowing  what  she  said  ;  "  or  is  this  some  strange  delusion  ?  " 

*^  Maiden,"  replied  Eanald,  '^hadst  thou  dwelled  longer 
with  us,  thou  wouldst  have  better  learned  to  know  how  to  dis- 
tinguish the  accents  of  truth.  To  that  Saxon  lord  and  to  the 
Knight  of  Ardenvohr  I  will  yield  such  proofs  of  what  I  have 
spoken  that  incredulity  shall  stand  convinced.  Meantime, 
withdraw ;  I  loved  thine  infancy,  I  hate  not  thy  youth  :  no 
eye  hates  the  rose  in  its  blossom,  though  it  groweth  upon  a 
thorn,  and  for  thee  only  do  I  something  regret  what  is  soon 
to  follow.  But  he  that  would  avenge  him  of  his  foe  must 
not  reck  though  the  guiltless  be  engaged  in  the  ruin." 

''He  advises  well,  Annot," said  Lord  Menteith  ;  *'  in  God's 
name  retire  !  If — if  there  be  aught  in  this,  your  meeting  with 
Sir  Duncan  must  be  more  prepared  for  both  your  sakes." 

"I  will  not  part  from  my  father,  if  I  have  found  one  !  " 
said  Annot — "  I  will  not  part  from  him  under  circumstances 
so  terrible." 

"  And  a  father  you  shall  ever  find  in  me,"  murmured  Sir 
Duncan. 

**^Then,"  said  Menteith,  "  I  will  have  MacEagh  removed 
into  an  adjacent  apartment,  and  will  collect  the  evidence  of 
his  tale  myself.  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty  will  give  me  his  attend- 
ance and  assistance." 

"  With  pleasure,  my  lord,"  answered  Sir  Dugald.  "  I 
will  be  your  confessor  or  assessor,  either  or  both.  No  one 
can  be  so  fit,  for  I  had  heard  the  whole  story  a  month  ago  at 
Inverary  Castle  ;  but  onslaughts  like  that  of  Ardenvohr  con- 
fuse each  other  in  my  memory,  which  is  besides  occupied 
with  matters  of  more  importance." 

Upon  hearing  this  frank  declaration,  which  was  made  a« 
they  left  the  apartment  with  the  wounded  man.  Lord  Men- 
teith darted  upon  Dalgetty  a  look  of  extreme  anger  and  dis- 
dain, to  which  the  self-conceit  of  the  worthy  commander 
rendered  him  totally  insensible. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

I  am  as  free  as  nature  first  made  man, 
Ere  the  base  laws  of  servitude  began, 
When  wild  in  woods  the  noble  savage  ran. 

Conquest  of  GranadUu 

The  Earl  of  Menteith,  as  he  had  undertaken,  so  he  proceeded 
to  investigate  more  closely  the  story  told  by  Ranald  of  the 
Mist,  which  was  corroborated  by  the  examination  of  his  two 
followers,  who  had  assisted  in  the  capacity  of  guides.  These 
declarations  he  carefully  compared  with  such  circumstances 
concernins:  the  destruction  of  his  castle  and  family  as  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell  was  able  to  supply ;  and  it  may  be  sup- 
posed he  had  forgotten  nothing  relating  to  an  event  of  such 
terrific  importance.  It  was  of  the  last  consequence  to  prove 
that  this  was  no  invention  of  the  outlaw's,  for  the  purpose 
of  passing  an  impostor  as  the  child  and  heiress  of  Ardenvohr. 

Perhaps  Menteith,  so  much  interested  in  believing  the 
tale,  was  not  altogether  the  fittest  person  to  be  intrusted  with 
the  investigation  of  its  truth ;  but  the  examinations  of  the 
Children  of  the  Mist  were  simple,  accurate,  and  in  all  respects 
consistent  with  each  other.  A  personal  mark  was  referred 
to,  which  was  known  to  have  been  borne  by  the  infant  child 
of  Sir  Duncan,  and  which  appeared  upon  the  left  shoulder 
of  Annot  Lyle.  It  was  also  well  remembered  that,  when  the 
miserable  relics  of  the  other  children  had  been  collected, 
those  of  the  infant  had  nowhere  been  found.  Other  circum- 
stances of  evidence  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  quote  brought 
the  fullest  conviction  not  only  to  Menteith  but  to  the  un- 
prejudiced mind  of  Montrose,  that  in  Annot  Lyle,  an  humble 
dependant,  distinguished  only  by  beauty  and  talent,  they  were 
in  future  to  respect  the  heiress  of  Ardenvohr. 

While  Menteith  hastened  to  communicate  the  result  of 
these  inquiries  to  the  persons  most  interested,  the  outlaw  de- 
manded to  speak  with  his  grandchild,  whom  he  usually  called 
his  son.  '*IIe  would  be  found,"  he  said,  '*in  the  outer 
apartment  in  which  he  himself  had  been  originally  de- 
posited/' 


A   LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  335 

Accordingly,  the  young  savage,  after  a  close  search,  was 
found  lurking  in  a  corner,  coiled  up  among  some  rotten 
straw,  and  brought  to  his  grandsire. 

"  Kenneth,"  said  the  old  outlaw,  *^hear  the  last  words  of 
the  sire  of  thy  father.  A  Saxon  soldier  and  Allan  of  the  Eed 
Hand  left  this  camp  within  these  few  hours,  to  travel  to  the 
country  of  Caberfae.  Pursue  them  as  the  bloodhound  pur- 
sues the  hurt  deer,  swim  the  lake,  climb  the  mountain,  thread 
the  forest,  tarry  not  until  you  join  them;^^  and  then  the 
countenance  of  the  lad  darkened  as  his  grandfather  spoke, 
and  he  laid  his  hand  upon  a  knife  which  stuck  in  the  thong 
of  leather  that  confined  his  scanty  plaid.  **  No  ! "  said  the  old 
man  ;  "it  is  not  by  thy  hand  he  must  fall.  They  will  ask  the 
news  from  the  camp  :  say  to  them  that  Annot  Lyle  of  the 
Harp  is  discovered  to  be  the  daughter  of  Duncan  of  Arden- 
vohr ;  that  the  Thane  of  Menteith  is  to  wed  her  before  the 
priest ;  and  that  you  are  sent  to  bid  guests  to  the  bridal. 
Tarry  not  their  answer,  but  vanish  like  the  lightning  when 
the  black  cloud  swallows  it.  And  noAv  depart,  beloved  son 
of  my  best  beloved  !  I  shall  never  more  see  thy  face,  nor  hear 
the  light  sound  of  thy  footstep — yet  tarry  an  instant  and  hear 
my  last  charge.  Remember  the  fate  of  our  race,  and  quit  not 
the  ancient  manners  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist.  We  are 
now  a  straggling  handful,  driven  from  every  vale  by  the 
sword  of  every  clan,  who  rule  in  the  possessions  where  their 
forefathers  hewed  the  wood  and  drew  the  water  for  ours.  But 
in  the  thicket  of  the  wilderness  and  in  the  mist  of  the  moun- 
tain, Kenneth,  son  of  Eracht,  keep  thou  unsoiled  the  freedom 
which  I  leave  thee  as  a  birthright.  Barter  it  not,  neither  for 
the  rich  garment  nor  for  the  stone  roof,  nor  for  the  covered 
board,  nor  for  the  couch  of  down  ;  on  the  rock  or  in  the  val- 
ley, in  abundance  or  in  famine,  in  the  leafy  summer  and  in 
the  days  of  the  iron  winter.  Son  of  the  Mist,  be  free  as  thy 
forefathers.  Own  no  lord,  receive  no  law,  take  no  hire,  give 
no  stipend,  build  no  hut,  enclose  no  pasture,  sow  no  grain ': 
let  the  deer  of  the  mountain  be  thy  flocks  and  herds  ;  if  these 
fail  thee,  prey  upon  the  goods  of  our  oppressors — of  the 
Saxons,  and  of  such  Gael  as  are  Saxons  in  their  souls,  valuing 
herds  and  flocks  more  than  honor  and  freedom.  Well  for  us 
that  they  do  so  ;  it  affords  the  broader  scope  for  our  revenge. 
Remember  those  who  have  done  kindness  to  our  race,  and 
pay  their  services  with  thy  blood  should  the  hour  require  it. 
If  a  Maclan  shall  come  to  thee  with  the  head  of  the  king^'s 
son  in  his  hand,  shelter  him,  though  the  avenging  army  of 
the  father  were  behind  him  ;  for  in  Glencoe  and  Ardnamurchan 


V$66  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

we  have  dwelled  in  peace  in  the  years  that  have  gone  by.  The 
Sons  of  Diarmid,  the  race  of  Darnlinvarach,  the  riders  of  Men- 
teith,  my  curse  on  thy  head.  Child  of  the  Mist,  if  thou  spare 
one  of  those  names  when  the  time  shall  offer  for  cutting  them 
off  !  And  it  will  come  anon,  for  their  own  swords  shall  de- 
vour each  other,  and  those  who  are  scattered  shall  fly  to  the 
Mist,  and  perish  by  its  Children.  Once  more  begone ;  shake 
the  dust  from  thy  feet  against  the  habitations  of  men,  whether 
banded  together  for  peace  or  for  war.  Farewell,  beloved  I 
and  mayst  thou  die  like  thy  forefathers,  ere  infirmity,  disease, 
or  age  shall  break  thy  spirit.  Begone  !  begone !  live  free, 
requite  kindness,  avenge  the  injuries  of  thy  race  !  '* 

The  young  savage  stooped  and  kissed  the  brow  of  his  dy- 
ing parent ;  but,  accustomed  from  infancy  to  suppress  every 
exterior  sign  of  emotion,  he  parted  without  tear  or  adieu,  and 
was  soon  far  beyond  the  limits  of  Montrose's  camp. 

Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty,  who  was  present  during  the  latter 
part  of  this  scene,  was  very  little  edified  by  the  conduct  of 
MacEagh  upon  the  occasion.  "  I  cannot  think,  my  friend 
Ranald,"  said  he,  ^'  that  you  are  in  the  best  possible  road  for 
a  dying  man.  Storms,  onslaughts,  massacres,  the  burning  of 
suburbs,  are  indeed  a  soldier's  daily  work,  and  are  Justified  by 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  seeing  that  they  are  done  in  the 
course  of  duty  ;  for  burning  of  suburbs,  in  particular,  it  may 
be  said  that  they  are  traitors  and  cutthroats  to  all  fortified 
towns.  Hence  it  is  plain  that  a  soldier's  is  a  profession  pecul- 
iarly favored  by  Heaven,  seeing  that  we  may  hope  for  salva- 
tion although  we  daily  commit  actions  of  so  great  violence. 
But  then,  Ranald,  in  all  services  of  Europe  it  is  the  custom 
of  the  dying  soldier  not  to  vaunt  him  of  such  doings,  or  to 
recommend  them  to  his  fellows  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  ex- 
press contrition  for  the  same,  and  to  repeat,  or  have  repeated 
to  him,  some  comfortable  prayer,  which,  if  you  please,  I  will 
intercede  with  his  Excellency's  chaplain  to  prefer  on  your 
account.  It  is  otherwise  no  point  of  my  duty  to  put  you  in 
mind  of  those  things ;  only  it  may  be  for  the  ease  of  your  con- 
science to  depart  more  like  a  Christian  and  less  like  a  Turk 
than  you  seem  to  be  in  a  fair  way  of  doing." 

The  only  answer  of  the  dying  man — for  as  such  Ranald 
MacEagh  might  now  be  considered — was  a  request  to  be  raised 
to  such  a  position  that  he  might  obtain  a  view  from  the  win- 
dow of  the  castle.  The  deep  frost  mist,  which  had  long 
settled  upon  the  top  of  the  mountains,  was  now  rolling  down 
each  rugged  glen  and  gully,  where  the  craggy  ridges  showed 
their  black  and  irregular  outline,  like  desert  islands  rising 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  337 

above  the  ocean  of  vapor.  "  Spirit  of  the  Mist  !  '*  said  Ran- 
ald MacEagh,  '^  called  by  our  race  our  father  and  our  pre- 
server, receive  into  thy  tabernacle  of  clouds,  when  this  pang 
is  over,  him  whom  in  life  thou  hast  so  often  sheltered."  So 
saying,  he  sunk  back  into  the  arms  of  those  who  upheld  him, 
spoke  no  further  word,  but  turned  his  face  to  the  wall  for  a 
short  space. 

'^  I  believe,"  said  Dalgetty,  *'my  friend  Ranald  will  be 
found  in  his  heart  to  be  little  better  than  a  heathen."  And 
he  renewed  his  proposal  to  procure  him  the  assistance  of  Dr. 
Wisheart,  Montrose^s  military  chaplain ;  "a  man,"  said  Sir 
Dugald,  '^  very  clever  in  his  exercise,  and  who  will  do  execu- 
tion on  your  sins  in  less  time  than  I  could  smoke  a  pipe  of 
tobacco." 

'*  Saxon,"  said  the  dying  man,  '^  speak  to  me  no  more  of 
thy  priest ;  I  die  contented.  Hadst  thou  ever  an  enemy 
against  whom  weapons  were  of  no  avail,  whom  the  ball  missed, 
and  against  whom  the  arrow  shivered,  and  whose  bare  skin 
Avas  as  impenetrable  to  sword  and  dirk  as  thy  steel  garment  ? 
Heardst  thou  ever  of  such  a  foe  ?  " 

*'  Very  frequently,  when  I  served  in  Germany,"  replied 
Sir  Dugald.  "  There  was  such  a  fellow  at  Ingolstadt ;  he  was 
proof  both  against  lead  and  steel.  The  soldiers  killed  him 
with  the  butts  of  their  muskets." 

**  This  impassible  foe,"  said  Ranald,  without  regarding  the 
Major^s  interruption,  "  who  has  the  blood  dearest  to  me  upon 
his  hands — to  this  man  I  have  now  bequeathed  agony  of  mind, 
jealousy,  despair,  and  sudden  death,  or  a  life  more  miserable 
than  death  itself.  Such  shall  be  the  lot  of  Allan  of  the  Red 
Hand  when  he  learns  that  Annot  weds  Menteith  ;  and  I  ask 
no  more  than  the  certainty  that  it  is  so  to  sweeten  my  own 
bloody  end  by  his  hand." 

"  If  that  be  the  case,"  said  the  Major,  *^  there's  no  more 
to  be  said  ;  but  I  shall  take  care  as  few  people  see  you  as  pos- 
sible, for  I  cannot  think  your  mode  of  departure  can  be  at  all 
creditable  or  exemplary  to  a  Christian  army."  So  saying  he 
left  the  apartment,  and  the  Son  of  the  Mist  soon  after  breathed 
his  last. 

Menteith,  in  the  meanwhile,  leaving  the  new-found  rela- 
tions to  their  mutual  feelings  of  mingled  emotion,  was  eagerly 
discussing  with  Montrose  the  consequences  of  this  discovery. 
''  I  should  now  see,"  said  the  Marquis,  **^even  had  I  not  be- 
fore observed  it,  that  your  interest  in  this  discovery,  my  dear 
Menteith,  has  no  small  reference  to  your  own  happiness. 
You  love  this  new-found  lady,  your  affection  is  returned.     In 


338  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

point  of  birth,  no  exceptions  can  be  made  ;  in  every  other  re- 
spect her  advantages  are  equal  to  those  which  you  yourself 
possess.  Think,  however,  a  moment.  Sir  Duncan  is  a 
fanatic— Presbyterian,  at  least — in  arms  against  the  King  ; 
he  is  only  with  us  in  the  quality  of  a  prisoner,  and  we  are,  I 
fear,  but  at  the  commencement  of  a  long  civil  war.  Is  this 
a  time,  think  you,  Menteith,  for  you  to  make  proposals  for 
his  heiress  ?  Or  what  chance  is  there  that  he  will  now  listen 
to  it?" 

Passion,  an  ingenious  as  well  as  an  eloquent  advocate,  sup- 
plied the  young  nobleman  with  a  thousand  answers  to  these 
objections.  He  reminded  Montrose  that  the  Knight  of  Ar- 
denvohr  was  neither  a  bigot  in  politics  nor  religion.  He 
urged  his  own  known  and  proved  zeal  for  the  royal  cause,  and 
hinted  that  its  influence  might  be  extended  and  strengthened 
by  his  wedding  the  heiress  of  Ardenvohr.  He  pleaded  the 
dangerous  state  of  Sir  Duncan's  wound,  the  risk  which  must 
be  run  by  suffering  the  young  lady  to  be  carried  into  the 
country  of  the  Campbells,  where,  in  case  of  her  father's 
death  or  continued  indisposition,  she  must  necessarily  be 
placed  under  the  guardianship  of  Argyle,  an  event  fatal  to 
his  (Menteith's)  hopes,  unless  he  could  stoop  to  purchase  his 
favor  by  abandoning  the  King's  party. 

Montrose  allowed  the  force  of  these  arguments,  and  owned, 
although  the  matter  was  attended  with  difficulty,  yet  it 
seemed  consistent  with  the  King's  service  that  it  should  be 
concluded  as  speedily  as  possible. 

"  1  could  wish,"  said  he,  "  that  it  were  all  settled  in  one 
way  or  another,  and  that  this  fair  Briseis  were  removed  from 
our  camp  before  the  return  of  our  Highland  Achilles,  Allan 
M'Aulay.  I  fear  some  fatal  feud  in  that  quarter,  Menteith  ; 
and  I  believe  it  would  be  best  that  Sir  Duncan  be  dismissed 
on  his  parole,  and  that  you  accompany  him  and  his  daughter 
as  his  escort.  The  journey  can  be  made  chiefly  by  water,  so 
will  not  greatly  incommode  his  wound  ;  and  your  own,  my 
friend,  will  be  an  honorable  excuse  for  the  absence  of  some 
time  from  my  camp. " 

^'  Never  !  "  said  Menteith.  '*  Were  I  to  forfeit  the  very 
hope  that  has  so  lately  dawned  upon  me,  never  will  I  leave 

four  Excellency's  camp  while  the  royal  standard  is  displayed, 
should  deserve  that  this  trifling  scratch  should  gangrene 
and  consume  my  sword-arm,  were  I  capable  of  holding  it  as 
an  excuse  for  absence  at  this  crisis  of  the  Kind's  affairs." 
'^  On  this,  then,  you  are  determined  ?  "  said  Montrose. 
"As  fixed  as  Ben  Nevis,"  said  the  young  nobleman. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  339 

'*  You  must,  then,"  said  Montrose,  ^'lose  no  time  in  seek- 
ing an  explanation  with  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr.  If  this 
prove  favorable,  I  will  talk  myself  with  the  elder  M'Aulay, 
and  we  will  devise  means  to  employ  his  brother  at  a  distance 
from  the  army  until  he  shall  be  reconciled  to  his  present  dis- 
appointment. Would  to  God  some  vision  would  descend 
upon  his  imagination  fair  enough  to  obliterate  all  traces  of 
Annot  Lyle !  That,  perhaps,  you  think  impossible,  Men-, 
teith  ?  Well,  each  to  his  service  ;  you  to  that  of  Cupid,  and 
I  to  that  of  Mars." 

They  parted,  and  in  pursuance  of  the  scheme  arranged. 
Men  teith,  early  on  the  ensuing  morning,  sought  a  private  in- 
terview with  the  wounded  Knight  of  Ardenvohr,  and  com- 
municated to  him  his  suit  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter.  Of 
their  mutual  attachment  Sir  Duncan  was  aware,  but  he  w^as 
not  prepared  for  so  early  a  declaration  on  the  part  of  Men- 
teith.  He  said,  at  first,  that  he  had  already,  perhaps,  in- 
dulged too  much  in  feelings  of  personal  happiness,  at  a  time 
when  his  clan  had  sustained  so  great  a  loss  and  humiliation, 
and  that  he  was  unwilling,  therefore,  further  to  consider  the 
advancement  of  his  o^vn  house  at  a  period  so  calamitous.  On 
the  more  urgent  suit  of  the  noble  lover,  he  requested  a  few 
hours  to  deliberate  and  consult  with  his  daughter  upon  a 
question  so  highly  important. 

The  result  of  this  interview  and  deliberation  was  favor- 
able to  Menteith.  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  became  fully  sensi- 
ble that  the  happiness  of  his  new-found  daughter  depended 
upon  a  union  with  her  lover;  and  unless  such  were  now 
formed,  he  saw  that  Argyle  would  throw  a  thousand  obstacles 
in  the  way  of  a  match  in  every  respect  acceptable  to  himself. 
Menteith's  private  character  was  so  excellent,  and  such  was 
the  rank  and  consideration  due  to  his  fortune  and  family, 
that  they  outbalanced,  in  Sir  Duncan's  opinion,  the  difference 
in  their  political  opinions.  Nor  could  he  have  resolved,  per- 
haps, had  his  own  opinion  of  the  match  been  less  favorable, 
to  decline  an  opportunity  of  indulging  the  new-found  child  of 
his  hopes.  There  was,  besides,  a  feeling  of  pride  which 
dictated  his  determination.  To  produce  the  heiress  of  Arden- 
vohr to  the  world  as  one  who  had  been  educated  a  poor  de- 
pendant and  musician  in  the  family  of  Darnlinvarach  had 
something  in  it  that  was  humiliating.  To  introduce  her  as  the 
betrothed  bride,  or  wedded  wife,  of  the  Earl  of  Menteith, 
upon  an  attachment  formed  during  her  obscurity,  was  a  war- 
rant to  the  world  that  she  had  at  all  times  been  worthy  of  the 
rank  to  which  she  was  elevated. 


340  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

It  was  under  the  influence  of  these  considerations  that  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell  announced  to  the  lovers  his  consent  that 
they  should  be  married  in  the  chapel  of  the  castle  by  Mon- 
trose's chaplain,  and  as  privately  as  possible.  But  when  Mon- 
trose should  break  up  from  Inverlochy,  for  which  orders  were 
expected  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  days,  it  was  agreed  that 
the  young  Countess  should  depart  with  her  father  to  his 
castle,  and  remain  there  until  the  circumstances  of  the  nation 
permitted  Menteith  to  retire  with  honor  from  his  present 
military  employment.  His  resolution  being  once  taken.  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell  would  not  permit  the  maidenly  scruples  of 
his  daughter  to  delay  its  execution  ;  and  it  was  therefore  re- 
solved that  the  bridal  should  take  place  the  next  evening,, 
being  the  second  after  the  battle. 


CHAPTER   XXm 

My  maid,  my  blue-eyed  maid,  he  bore  away, 
Due  to  the  toils  of  many  a  bloody  day. 

Iliad. 

It  was  necessary,  for  many  reasons,  that  Angus  M'Aulay,  so 
long  the  kind  protector  of  Annot  Lyle,  should  be  made 
acquainted  with  the  change  in  the  fortunes  of  his  late  pro- 
tegee;  and  Montrose,  as  he  had  undertaken,  communicated 
to  him  these  remarkable  events.  With  the  careless  and  cheer- 
ful indifference  of  his  character,  he  expressed  much  more  joy 
than  wonder  at  Annot^s  good  fortune;  had  no  doubt  whatever 
she  would  merit  it,  and  as  she  had  always  been  bred  in  loyal 
principles,  would  convey  the  whole  estate  of  her  grim,  fanati- 
cal father  to  some  honest  fellow  who  loved  the  King.  **I 
should  have  no  objection  that  my  brother  Allan  should  try 
his  chance, '^  added  he,  *^  notwithstanding  that  Sir  Duncan 
Campbell  was  the  only  man  who  ever  charged  Darnlinvarach 
with  inhospitality.  Annot  Lyle  could  always  charm  Allan 
out  of  the  sullens,  and  who  knows  whether  matrimony  might 
not  make  him  more  a  man  of  this  world  ?  " 

Montrose  hastened  to  interrupt  the  progress  of  his  castle- 
building  by  informing  him  that  the  lady  was  already  wooed 
and  won,  and,  with  her  father's  approbation,  was  almost  im- 
mediately to  be  wedded  to  his  kinsman,  the  Earl  of  Men- 
teith  ;  and  that  in  testimony  of  the  high  respect  due  to 
M'Aulay,  so  long  the  lady's  protector,  he  was  now  to  request 
his  presence  at  the  ceremony. 

M'Aulay  looked  very  grave  at  this  intimation,  and  drew 
up  his  person  with  the  air  of  one  who  thought  that  he  had  been 
neglected.  ^'  He  conceived,"  he  said,  "  that  his  uniform  kind 
treatment  of  the  young  lady,  while  so  many  years  under  his 
roof,  required  something  more  upon  ch  an  occasion  than  a 
bare  compliment  of  ceremony.  He  might,"  he  thought, 
"  without  arrogance,  have  expected  to  have  been  consulted. 
He  wished  his  Kinsman  of  Menteith  well,  no  man  could  wish 


842  '  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

him  better ;  but  he  must  say  he  thought  he  had  been  hasty  in 
this  matter.  Allan's  sentiments  towards  the  young  lady  had 
been  pretty  well  understood,  and  he,  for  one,  could  not  see 
why  the  superior  pretensions  which  he  had  upon  her  grati- 
tude should  have  been  set  aside,  without  at  least  undergoing 
some  prerious  discussion/' 

Montrose,  seeing  too  well  where  all  this  pointed,  entreated 
M'Aulay  to  be  reasonable,  and  to  consider  what  probability 
there  was  that  the  Knight  of  Ardenvohr  could  be  brought  to 
confer  the  hand  of  his  sole  heiress  upon  Allan,  whose  undeni- 
able excellent  qualities  were  mingled  with  others  by  which 
they  were  overclouded  in  a  manner  that  made  all  tremble  who 
approached  him. 

''  My  lord,"  said  Angus  M'Aulay,  *^my  brother  Allan  has, 
as  God  made  us  all,  faults  as  well  as  merits  ;  but  he  is  the 
best  and  bravest  man  of  your  army,  be  the  other  who  he  may, 
and  therefore  ill  deserved  that  his  happiness  should  have  been 
so  little  consulted  by  your  Excellency,  by  his  own  near  kins- 
man, and  by  a  young  person  who  owes  all  to  him  and  to  his 
family.'' 

Montrose  in  vain  endeavored  to  place  the  subject  in  a  dif- 
ferent view  ;  this  was  the  point  in  which  Angus  was  deter- 
mined to  regard  it,  and  he  was  a  man  of  that  calibre  of  under- 
standing who  is  incapable  of  being  convinced  when  he  has 
once  adopted  a  prejudice.  Montrose  now  assumed  a  higher 
tone,  and  called  upon  Angus  to  take  care  how  he  nourished 
any  sentiments  which  might  be  prejudicial  to  his  Majesty's 
service.  He  pointed  out  to  him  that  he  was  peculiarly  desir- 
ous that  Allan's  efforts  should  not  be  interrupted  in  the  course 
of  his  present  mission  ;  ''  a  mission,"  he  said,  '^highly  honor- 
ble  for  himself,  and  likely  to  prove  most  advantageous  to  the 
King's  cause.  He  expected  his  brother  would  hold  no  commu- 
nication with  him  upon  other  subjects,  nor  stir  up  any  cause  of 
dissension,  which  might  divert  his  mind  from  a  matter  of 
such  importance." 

Angus  answered  somewhat  sulkily  that  "  he  was  no  make- 
bate  or  stirrer  up  of  quarrels  ;  he  would  rather  be  a  peace- 
maker. His  brother  knew  as  well  as  most  men  how  to  resent 
his  own  quarrels  ;  as  for  Allan's  mode  of  receiving  informa- 
tion, it  was  generally  believed  he  had  other  sources  than  those 
of  ordinary  couriers.  He  should  not  be  surprised  if  they  saw 
him  sooner  than  they  expected." 

A  promise  that  he  would  not  interfere  was  the  farthest  to 
which  Montrose  could  bring  this  man,  thoroughly  good-tem- 
pered as  he  was  on  all  occasions  save  when  his  pride,  interest, 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  848 

or  prejudices  were  interfered  with.  And  at  this  point  the 
Marquis  was  fain  to  leave  the  matter  for  the  present. 

A  more  willing  guest  at  the  bridal  ceremony,  certainly  a 
more  willing  attendant  at  the  marriage  feast,  was  to  be  ex- 
pected in  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty,  whom  Montrose  resolved  to 
invite,  as  having  been  a  confidant  to  the  circumstances  which 
preceded  it.  But  even  Sir  Dugald  hesitated,  looked  on  the 
elbows  of  his  doublet  and  the  knees  of  his  leather  breeches, 
and  mumbled  out  a  sort  of  reluctant  acquiescence  in  the  invi- 
tation, providing  he  should  find  it  possible,  after  consulting 
with  the  noble  bridegroom. 

Montrose  was  somewhat  surprised  ;  but  scorning  to  testify 
displeasure,  he  left  Sir  Dugald  to  pursue  his  own  course. 
This  carried  him  instantly  to  the  chamber  of  the  bridegroom, 
who,  amid  the  scanty  wardrobe  which  his  camp  equipage 
afforded,  was  seeking  for  such  articles  as  might  appear  to  the 
best  advantage  upon  the  approaching  occasion.  Sir  Dugald 
entered  and  paid  his  compliments,  with  a  very  grave  face, 
upon  his  approaching  happiness,  which,  he  said,  ''he  was 
very  sorry  he  was  prevented  from  witnessing. " 

''In  plain  truth,'' said  he,  "I  should  but  disgrace  the 
ceremony,  seeing  that  I  lack  a  bridal  garment.  Bents  and 
open  seams  and  tatters  at  elbows  in  the  apparel  of  the  assist- 
ants might  presage  a  similar  solution  of  continuity  in  your 
matrimonial  happiness  ;  and  to  say  truth,  my  lord,  you  your- 
self must  partly  have  the  blame  of  this  disappointment,  in 
respect  you  sent  me  upon  a  fool's  errand  to  get  a  buff-coat 
out  of  the  booty  taken  by  the  Camerons,  whereas  you  might 
as  well  have  sent  me  to  fetch  a  pound  of  fresh  butter  out  of 
a  black  dog's  throat.  I  had  no  answer,  my  lord,  but  bran- 
dished dirks  and  broadswords,  and  a  sort  of  growling  and 
jabbering  in  what  they  call  their  language.  For  my  part,  I 
believe  these  Highlanders  to  be  no  better  than  absolute 
pagans,  and  have  been  much  scandalized  by  the  manner  in 
which  my  acquaintance,  Ranald  MacEagh;  was  pleased  to  beat 
his  final  march  a  little  while  since." 

In  Menteith's  state  of  mind,  disposed  to  be  pleased  with 
everything  and  everybody,  the  grave  complaint  of  Sir  Dugald 
furnished  additional  amusement.  He  requested  his  accept- 
ance of  a  very  handsome  buff-dress  which  was  lying  on  the 
floor.  "  I  had  intended  it,"  he  said,  "  for  my  own  bridal 
garment,  as  being  the  least  formidable  of  my  warlike  equip- 
ments, and  I  have  here  no  peaceful  dress." 

Sir  Dugald  made  the  necessary  apologies — would  not  by 
any  means  deprive,  and  so  forth — until  it  happily  occurred 


344  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

to  him  that  it  was  much  more  according  to  military  rule  that 
the  Earl  should  be  married  in  his  back-  and  breast-pieces, 
which  dress  he  had  seen  the  bridegroom  wear  at  the  union  of 
Prince  Leo  of  Wittelsbach  with  the  youngest  daughter  of  old 
George  Frederick  of  Saxony,  under  the  auspices  of  the  gallant 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  and  so  forth. 
The  good-natured  young  Earl  laughed  and  acquiesced  ;  and 
thus  having  secured  at  least  one  merry  face  at  his  bridal,  he 
put  on  a  light  and  ornamented  cuirass,  concealed  partly  by  a 
velvet  coat,  and  partly  by  a  broad  blue  silk  scarf,  which  he 
wore  over  his  shoulder,  agreeably  to  his  rank  and  the  fashion 
of  the  times. 

Everything  was  now  arranged ;  and  it  had  been  settled 
that,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  should  not  again  meet  until  they  were  before  the 
altar.  The  hour  had  already  struck  that  summoned  the 
bridegroom  thither,  and  he  only  waited  in  a  small  anteroom 
adjacent  to  the  chapel  for  the  Marquis,  who  condescended  to 
act  as  bridesman  upon  the  occasion.  Business  relating  to  the 
army  having  suddenly  required  the  Marquis's  instant  atten- 
tion, Menteith  waited  his  return,  it  may  be  supposed,  in  some 
impatience ;  and  when  he  heard  the  door  of  the  apartment 
open,  he  said,  laughing,  ''  You  are  late  upon  parade.'' 

"  You  will  find  I  am  too  early,''  said  Allan  M'Aulay,  who 
burst  into  the  apartment.  ''Draw,  Menteith,  and  defend 
yourself  like  a  man,  or  die  like  a  dog  ! " 

"  You  are  mad,  Allan  ! "  answered  Menteith,  astonished 
alike  at  his  sudden  appearance  and  at  the  unutterable  fury  of 
his  demeanor.  His  cheeks  were  livid,  his  eyes  started  from 
their  sockets,  his  lips  were  covered  with  foam,  and  his  gestures 
were  those  of  a  demoniac. 

''You  lie,  traitor! "was  his  frantic  reply — "you  lie  in 
that,  «s  you  lie  in  all  you  have  said  to  me.  Your  life  is  a 
lie!" 

"  Did  I  not  speak  my  thoughts  when  I  called  you  mad," 
said  Menteith,  indignantly,  "  your  own  life  were  a  brief  one. 
In  what  do  you  charge  me  with  deceiving  you  ?  " 

"  You  told  me,"  answered  M'Aulay,  "  that  you  would  not 
marry  Annot  Lvle  !  False  traitor  !  she  now  waits  you  at  the 
altar." 

"It  is  you  who  speak  false,"  retorted  Menteith.  "I 
told  you  the  obscurity  of  her  birth  was  the  only  bar  to  our 
union  ;  that  is  now  removed  ;  and  whom  do  you  think 
yourself,  that  I  should  yield  up  my  pretensions  in  your 
favor  ?" 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  846 

''Draw,  then,"  said  M'Aulay  ;  '^we  understand  each 
other." 

"Not  now,"  said  Menteith,  "^ and  not  here.  Allan,  you 
know  me  well ;  wait  till  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  have  fight- 
ing enough." 

"  This  hour,  this  instant,  or  never,"  answered  M'Aulay. 
"  Your  triumph  shall  not  go  farther  than  the  hour  which  is 
stricken.  Menteith,  I  entreat  you  by  our  relationship,  by 
our  joint  conflicts  and  labors,  draw  your  sword  and  defend 
your  life  ! "  As  he  spoke,  he  seized  the  EarFs  hand  and 
wrung  it  with  such  frantic  earnestness  that  his  grasp  forced 
the  blood  to  start  under  the  nails.  Menteith  threw  him  off 
with  violence,  exclaiming,  '^Begone,  madman  I" 

"Then,  be  the  vision  accomplished!"  said  Allan;  and, 
drawing  his  dirk,  struck  with  his  whole  gigantic  force  at  the 
EarFs  bosom.  The  temper  of  the  corselet  threw  the  point  of 
the  weapon  upwards,  but  a  deep  wound  took  place  between 
the  neck  and  shoulder  ;  and  the  force  of  the  blow  prostrated 
the  bridegroom  on  the  floor.  Montrose  entered  at  one  side 
of  the  anteroom.  The  bridal  company,  alarmed  at  the 
noise,  were  in  equal  apprehension  and  surprise ;  but  ere 
Montrose  could  almost  see  what  had  happened,  Allan  M'Au- 
lay  had  rushed  past  him  and  descended  the  castle  stairs  like 
lightning.  "Guards,  shut  the  gate!"  exclaimed  Montrose. 
"  Seize  him ;  kill  him  if  he  resists  !  He  shall  die,  if  he  were 
my  brother ! " 

But  Allan  prostrated,  with  a  second  blow  of  his  dagger,  a 
sentinel  who  was  upon  duty,  traversed  the  camp  like  a  moun- 
tain deer,  though  pursued  by  all  who  caught  the  alarm, 
thrcAV  himself  into  the  river,  and,  swimming  to  the  opposite 
side,  was  soon  lost  among  the  woods.  In  the  course  of  the 
same  evening  his  brother  Angus  and  his  followers  left  Mon- 
trose's camp,  and,  taking  the  road  homeward,  never  again 
rejoined  him. 

Of  Allan  himself  it  is  said  that,  in  a  wonderfully  short 
space  after  the  deed  was  committed,  he  burst  into  a  room  in 
the  Castle  of  Inverary,  where  Argyle  was  sitting  in  council, 
and  flung  on  the  table  his  bloody  dirk. 

"Is  it  the  blood  of  James  Graham?"  said  Argyle,  a 
ghastly  expression  of  hope  mixing  with  the  terror  which  the 
sudden  apparition  naturally  excited. 

"  It  is  the  blood  of  his  minion,"  answered  M'Aulay  ;  "it 
is  the  blood  which  I  was  predestined  to  shed,  though  I  would 
rather  have  spilled  my  own." 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  turned  and  left  the  castle,  and 


346  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

from  that  moment  nothing  certain  is  known  of  his  fate.  As 
the  boy  Kenneth,  with  three  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist, 
were  seen  soon  afterwards  to  cross  Loch  Fine,  it  is  sup- 
posed they  dogged  his  course,  and  that  he  perished  by  their 
hand  in  some  obscure  wilderness.  Another  opinion  main- 
tains that  Allan  M'Aulay  went  abroad  and  died  a  monk  of  the 
Carthusian  order.  But  nothing  beyond  bare  presumption 
could  ever  be  brought  in  support  of  either  opinion. 

His  vengeance  was  much  less  complete  than  he  probably 
fancied  ;  for  Menteith,  though  so  severely  wounded  as  to  re- 
main long  in  a  dangerous  state,  was,  by  having  adopted 
Major  Dalgetty's  fortunate  recommendation  of  a  cuirass  as  a 
bridal  garment,  happily  secured  from  the  worst  consequences 
of  the  blow.  But  his  services  were  lost  to  Montrose  ;  and  it 
was  thought  best  that  he  should  be  conveyed  with  his  intended 
countess,  now  truly  a  mourning  bride,  and  should  accompany 
his  wounded  father-in-law  to  the  castle  of  Sir  Duncan  at  Ar- 
denvohr.  Dalgetty  followed  them  to  the  water's  edge,  re- 
minding Menteith  of  the  necessity  of  erecting  a  sconce  on 
Drumsnab  to  cover  his  lady's  newly  acquired  inheritance. 

They  performed  their  voyage  in  safety,  and  Menteith  was 
in  a  few  weeks  so  well  in  health  as  to  be  united  to  Annot  in 
the  castle  of  her  father. 

The  Highlanders  were  somewhat  puzzled  to  reconcile  Men- 
teith's  recovery  with  the  visions  of  the  ^second  sight,  and  the 
more  experienced  seers  were  displeased  with  him  for  not  hav- 
ing died.  But  others  thought  the  credit  of  the  vision  suf- 
ficiently fulfilled  by  the  wound  inflicted  by  the  hand,  and  with 
the  weapon,  foretold  ;  and  all  were  of  opinion  that  the  inci- 
dent of  the  ring  with  the  death's  head  related  to  the  death  of 
the  bride's  father,  who  did  not  survive  her  marriage  many 
months.  The  incredulous  held  that  all  this  was  idle  dream- 
ing, and  that  Allan's  supposed  vision  was  but  a  consequence 
of  the  private  suggestions  of  his  own  passion,  which,  having 
long  seen  in  Menteith  a  rival  more  beloved  than  himself, 
struggled  with  his  better  nature,  and  impressed  upon  him,  as 
it  were  involuntarily,  the  idea  of  killing  his  competitor. 

Menteith  did  not  recover  sufficiently  to  join  Montrose 
during  his  brief  and  glorious  career  ;  and  when  that  heroic 
general  disbanded  his  army  and  retired  from  Scotland,  Men- 
teith resolved  to  adopt  the  life  of  privacy,  which  he  led  till 
the  Restoration.  After  that  happy  event,  he  occupied  a  sit- 
uation in  the  land  befitting  his  rank,  lived  long,  happy  alike 
in  public  regard  and  in  domestic  affection,  and  died  at  a  good 
ola  age. 


A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE  Mt 

Onr  dramatis  per  sonm  have  been  so  limited  that,  excepting 
Montrose,  whose  exploits  and  fate  are  the  theme  of  history, 
we  have  only  to  mention  Sir  Dugald  Dalgetty.  This  gentle- 
man continued,  with  the  most  rigorous  punctuality,  to  dis- 
charge his  duty  and  to  receive  his  pay,  until  he  was  made 
prisoner,  among  others,  upon  the  field  of  Philiphaugh.  He 
was  condemned  to  share  the  fate  of  his  fellow-officers  upon 
that  occasion,  who  were  doomed  to  death  rather  by  denuncia- 
tions from  the  pulpit  than  the  sentence  either  of  civil  or 
military  tribunal ;  their  blood  being  considered  as  a  sort  of 
sin-offering  to  take  away  the  guilt  of  the  land,  and  the  fate 
imposed  upon  the  Oanaanites,  under  a  special  dispensation, 
being  impiously  and  cruelly  applied  to  them. 

Several  Lowland  officers  in  the  service  of  the  Covenanters 
interceded  for  Dalgetty  on  this  occasion,  representing  him  as 
a  person  whose  skill  would  be  useful  in  their  army,  and  who 
would  be  readily  induced  to  change  his  service.  But  on  this 
point  they  found  Sir  Dugald  unexpectedly  obstinate.  He 
had  engaged  with  the  King  for  a  certain  term,  and,  till  that 
was  expired,  his  principles  would  not  permit  any  shadow  of 
changing.  The  Covenanters,  again,  understood  no  such  nice 
distinction,  and  he  was  in  the  utmost  danger  of  falling  a 
martyr,  not  to  this  or  that  political  principle,  but  merely  to 
his  own  strict  ideas  of  a  military  enlistment.  Fortunately, 
his  friends  discovered  by  computation  that  there  remained 
but  a  fortnight  to  elapse  of  the  engagement  he  had  formed, 
and  to  which,  though  certain  it  was  never  to  be  renewed,  no 
power  on  earth  could  make  him  false.  With  some  difficulty 
they  procured  a  reprieve  for  this  short  space,  after  which  they 
found  him  perfectly  willing  to  come  under  any  engagements 
they  chose  to  dictate.  He  entered  the  service  of  the  Estates 
accordingly,  and  wrought  himself  forward  to  be  Major  in 
Gilbert  Ker's  corps,  commonly  called  the  Kirk's  Own  Regi- 
ment of  Horse.  Of  his  further  history  we  know  nothing, 
until  we  find  him  in  possession  of  his  paternal  estate  of  Drum- 
thwacket,  which  he  acquired,  not  by  the  sword,  but  by  a 
pacific  intermarriage  with  Hannah  Strachan,  a  matron 
somewhat  stricken  in  years,  the  widow  of  the  Aberdeenshire 
Covenanter. 

Sir  Dugald  is  supposed  to  have  survived  the  Revolution, 
as  traditions  of  no  very  distant  date  represent  him  as  cruis- 
ing about  in  that  country,  very  old,  very  deaf,  and  very  full 
of  interminable  stories  about  the  immortal  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus,  the  Lion  of  the  North,  and  the  Bulwark  of  the  Protes- 
tant Faith. 


84a  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Reader  !  The  Tales  of  my  Landlord  are  now  finally 
closed,*  and  it  was  my  purpose  to  have  addressed  thee  in  the 
vein  of  Jedediah  Cleishbotham  ;  but,  like  Horam  the  son  of 
Asmar  and  all  other  imaginary  story-tellers,  Jedediah  has 
melted  into  thin  air. 

Mr.  Cleishbotham  bore  the  same  resemblance  to  Ariel  as 
he  at  whose  voice  he  rose  doth  to  the  sage  Prospero ;  and  yet, 
so  fond  are  we  of  the  fictions  of  our  own  fancy,  that  I  part 
with  him,  and  all  his  imaginary  localities,  with  idle  reluc- 
tance. I  am  aware  this  is  a  feeling  in  which  the  reader  will 
little  sympathize  ;  but  he  cannot  be  more  sensible  than  I  am 
that  sufficient  varieties  have  now  been  exhibited  of  the  Scot- 
tish character  to  exhaust  one  individuars  powers  of  observa- 
tion, and  that  to  persist  would  be  useless  and  tedious.  I  have 
the  vanity  to  suppose  that  the  popularity  of  these  Novels  has 
shown  my  countrymen  and  their  peculiarities  in  lights  which 
were  new  to  the  Southern  reader ;  and  that  many,  hitherto 
indifferent  upon  the  subject,  have  been  induced  to  read 
Scottish  history  from  the  allusions  to  it  in  these  works  of 
fiction. 

I  retire  from  the  field,  conscious  that  there  remains 
behind  not  only  a  large  harvest,  but  laborers  capable  of  gath- 
ering it  in.  More  than  one  writer  has  of  late  displayed  tal- 
ents of  this  description ;  and  if  the  present  Author,  himself 
a  phantom,  may  be  permitted  to  distinguish  a  brother,  or 
perhaps  a  sister  shadow,  he  would  mention,  in  particular, 
the  author  of  the  very  lively  work  entitled  Marriage- 

*  [The  Legend  of  Montrose  followed  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor  In  Scott's 
edition  of  1829-33.  It  is  printed  in  this  place,  along  with  The  Black  Dwarf,  Cor  con  • 
venience  of  publication,  the  transposition  of  order  havins,  moreover,  ta»  ^urction 
of  many  years'  observance.] 


APPENDICES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

No.  L 

THE  scarcity  of  my  late  friend's  poem  may  be  an  excuse  for  adding 
the  spirited  conclusion  of  Clan-Alpin's  Vow.  The  Clan  Gregoir  has 
met  in  the  ancient  ohuroh  of  Balquidder.  The  head  of  Drummond- 
Brnoch  Is  placed  on  the  altar,  covered  for  a  time  with  the  banner  of 
the  tribe.  The  Chief  of  the  tribe  advances  to  the  altao:; 

And  pausing,   on  the  banner  gazed; 

Then   cried   in   scam,    with  finger  raised, 

"This  was   th^e  boon  of  Scotland's  king;" 

And,   with  a  quick  and  angry  fling. 

Tossing   the   pageant  screen  away. 

The  dead  man's  head  before  him  lay. 

Unmoved  he   scann'd   the  visa«e  o'er. 

The  clotted  locks  were  dark  with  gore^ 

The   features   witih   convulsion    grrim. 

The  eyes  contorted,    sunk,   and   dim. 

But  unappall'd.  In  angry  mood. 

With   lowering  t>row,    unmoved   he  Btood. 

Upon   the    head   his   bared    right  band 

He  laid,   the  otiher  grasp' d  his  brand. 

Then  kneelin«.    cried.    "To  Heaven  I  snrMT 

This  deed  of  death  I  own,  and  share; 

As  truly,   fuliy   mine,    as   though 

This  my  right  hand  had  dealt  the  blow. 

Come  then,   our  foemen,  one,   come  all; 

If  to  revenge   this   caitiff's  fall 

One  blade  "is  bared,   one  bow  is  drawn. 

Mine  everlasting  i>eace  I  pawn. 

To  claim  from  them,  or  claim  from  bla^ 

In  rertributlon.    limb   for  limb. 

In  sudden   fray,    or  open   strife. 

This  steel  bhall  render  life  for  life." 

Be  ceased;  and  at  his  beckoning  nod. 
The   clansmen  to  the  altar  trod; 
And   not  a  whisper  breathed  around. 
And  nought  was  heard  of  mortal   soun^ 
Save  from   the  clanking  arms   they  bore^ 
That  rattled  on   the   marble   floor. 
And  each,   as  he   approach' d  In  haste. 
Upon  the  scalp  his  right  hand  placed; 
With  livid   lip,    and   gather' d   brow, 
Each  uttered.    In  his  turn,    the  vow. 
FlM-ce    Malcolm    watch' d   the    paaslne  scene. 
And  search'd   them   through  witih  glances  kMQ^ 
Then  dash'd  a  tear-drop  from  his  eye; 
Unhid  it  came,    he  knew   not  why. 
Exulting    high,    he    towering    stood: 
"Kinsmen,"    he  cried,    "of   Alpin's  blood. 
And    worthy    of    Clan    Alpin's    name, 
Unstaln'd   by   cowardice  and   shame, 
•K'en  do,   spair  nooht,'    In  tinae  of  ill. 
Shall   be   Clan   Alpla's  legend  still t" 

849 


860  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

No.  It. 

IT  has  been  dispuited  whetftier  the  ChlMren  of  the  "Mist  were  actual 
MaxjGregors,  or  whether  they  were  not  outlaws  named  MacDonald, 
belonging  to  Ardnamurchan.  The  following  act  of  the  Privy  Coun- 
eil  seems  to  decide  the  question; 

EDINBURGH,  4th  February.   1589. 

"The  same  day,  the  Lords  of  Secret  Council  being  crediblie  in- 
formed of  ye  cruel  and  misc^hievous  proceeding  of  ye  wicked  Clan- 
grigor,  so  la.ng  continueing'  in  blood,  slaughters,  heirships,  manifest 
reifts,  and  stouths  committed  upon  his  Hieness'  peaceable  and  good 
subjects,  inhabiting  ye  countries  ewest  ye  brays  of  ye  Highlands, 
thir  money  years  bygone;  but  specially  heir  after  ye  cruel  murder  of 
umqll  Jo.  Druimmond  of  Drummoneyryuch,  his  Majesties  proper  ten- 
nant,  and  ane  of  his  fosters  of  Glenartney,  oom.mitted  upon  ye 
day  of  last  bypast,  be  certain  of  ye  said  clan,  be  ye  council 

and  determirtation  of  ye  haill,  avow  and  'to  defend  ye  authors  yrof 
qoever  wald  persew  for  revenge  of  ye  same,  qu  ye  said  Jo.  was  oc- 
cupied in  seeking  of  venison  to  ihis  Hieness,  at  command  of  Pat. 
Lord  Drummond,  Stewart  of  Stratherne,  and  principal  forrester  of 
Glenartney;  the  Queen,  (his  (Majesties  dearest  spouse,  being  yn 
shortlie  looked  for  to  arrive  in  -this  realm.  Likeas,  after  ye  murder 
oommi'tted,  ye  authors  yrof  cutted  off  ye  said  umqll  Jo.  Drummond's 
head,  and  ^carried  the  same  to  the  Laird  of  M'Grigor,  who,  and  the 
haill  surname  of  M'Grigors,  purposely  oonveined  upon  the  Sunday 
yrafter.  at  the  Kirk  of  Buchquhidder;  qr  they  caused  ye  said  umqll 
John's  head  to  be  puted  to  ym,  and  yr  avowing  ye  sd  murder  to  have 
been  oomjnitted  by  yr  communion,  council,  and  determination,  laid 
yr  'hands  upon  the  pow,  and  dn  eithnik  and  barbarous  manner,  swear 
to  defend  ye  authors  of  ye  sd  murder,  in  maist  proud  contempt  of 
our  sovrn  Lord  and  his  autie,  and  in  evil  example  to  others  wicked 
lymmaris  to  doe  ye  like,  give  ys  sail  be  suffered  to  remain  unpun- 
ished." 

Then  follows  a  commission  to  the  Earls  of  Huntly,  Argyle, 
Athole,  Montrose,  Pat.  Lord  Drummond,  Ja.  commendator  of  Inchef- 
fray,  And.  Campbel  of  Lochinnel,  Duncan  Campbel  of  Ardinglas, 
Lauehlane  M'Intosh  of  Dunnauchtane,  Sir  Jo.  Murray  of  Tillibarden, 
knt.,  Geo.  Budhanan  of  that  Ilk,  and  And.  M'Parlane  of  Ariquocher, 
to  search  for  and  apprehend  Alaster  M'Grigor  of  Glenstre  (and  a 
number  of  other  nominatim),  "and  all  others  of  the  said  Clangrigor, 
or  ye  assistars,  culpable  of  the  said  odious  murther,  or  of  thift,  reset 
of  thift,  heirships,  and  sornings,  qrever  they  may  be  apprehended. 
And  if  they  refuse  to  be  taken,  or  flees  to  strengths  and  houses,  to 
pursue  and  assege  them  -with  Are  and  sword;  and  this  commission 
to  endure  for  'the  space  of  three  years." 

Suoh  was  the  system  of  police  in  1589;  and  sudh  the  atate  or  Sc#t- 
land  nearly  thirty  years  after  the  Reformation. 

POSTSCRIPT 

"WiHILB  tlhese  pages  were  passing  'thpougih  the  press,  the  Author  re» 
cedved  a  letter  from  the  present  Robert  Stewart  of  AMvoirlich,  favor- 
InfiT  'hdm  with  the  account  of  the  unhappy  slaugihter  of  Lord  Kilpont, 
differing  from,  and  more  probable  than,  that  given  'by  Bishop  Wis- 
hart,  whose  narrative  infers  either  insanity  or  the  blackest  treachery 
on  the  part  of  James  iStewart,  of  Ardvoirlich,  the  amcestor  of  the 
present  family  of  that  name.  It  is  but  fair  to  gnve  the  entire  com- 
munication as  received  tvom  my  respected  correspondent,  which  te 
more  minute  than  the  histories  of  the  period. 

"Althoug-h  I  have  not  the  honor  of  being  personally  known  to 
you,  I  hope  you  will  excuse  the  liberty  I  now  take,  in  addreasinjg  you 
on  the  subject  of  a  transaction  more  than  once  alluded  to  by  you,  in 
which  an  ancestor  of  mine  was  unhappily  conoemed.  I  allude  to  the 
slaughter  of  Lord  Kilpont,  eon  of  the  Bart  of  Alrth  and  Mentelth,  In 
1644,  by  James  Stewart  of  AdvoirHch.  As  the  cause  of  his  unhappy 
event,  and  t?he  quarrel  whldh  led  to  it.  have  never  been  correctly 
Btaited  In  any  history  of  the  period  in  iwfhlch  It  took  place.  I  am  In- 
duced, In  consequence  of  your  having,  in  the  second  series  of  your 
admirable    Talee   on    the    History    oX    Scotland,    adopted    W*i8bart'« 


APPENDICES  861 

Tension  of  the  transaction  ajid  bedn^r  aware  that  your  having"  done  so 
will  stamp  it  with  an  auLhentlci-ty  which  it  does  not  merit,  and  with 
a  view,  as  far  as  possi-ble,  tx)  do  justice  to  'the  memory  of  my  un- 
fortunate ancestor,  to  send  you  tihe  ajccount  of  this  affair  as  it  has 
been  handed  down  in  the  family. 

"James  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich,  who  lived  in  the  early  .part  of  the 
17th  century,  and  who  was  the  unlucky  cause  of  the  slaughter  of 
Lord  Kilpont,  as  before  mentioned,  was  appointed  to  the  command  of 
one  of  several  independent  companies  raised  in  the  Highlands  at  the 
commencement  of  the  troubles  in  Che  reign  of  Charls  I.;  another  of 
these  companies  was  under  the  command  of  Lord  Kilpont,  and  a 
strong  intimacy,  streng-thened  by  a  distant  relationshdp,  subsisted  be- 
tween them.  When  Montrose  raised  the  royal  standard,  Ardvoirlioh 
was  one  of  the  first  to  declare  far  him,  and  is  said  to  have  been  a 
principal  means  of  bringing  over  Lord  Kilpont  to  the  same  cause; 
and  they  accordingly,  along  with  Sir  John  Drummond  and  their  re- 
spective followers,  joined  Montrose,  ae  recorded  by  Wishaxt.  at 
Buchanty.  While  they  served  together,  so  strong  was  their  intimacy 
that  they  lived  and  slept  in  the  same  tent. 

"In  the  meantime,  Montrose  had  been  joined  by  the  Irish,  under 
the  command  of  Alexander  Macdonald.  Tljese,  on  their  march  to 
join  Montrose,  had  committed  some  excesses  on  lands  belonging  to 
Ardvoirlich,  which  lay  in  the  line  of  their  march  from  the  west  ooast. 
Of  this  Ardvoirlich  complained  to  Montrose,  who,  probably  wishing 
as  muiOh  as  possible  to  oonoiliate  his  new  allies,  treated  it  in  rather 
an  evasive  manner.  Ardvoirlich,  who  was  a  man  of  violent  passions, 
having  failed  to  receive  such  satisfaiction  as  he  required,  challenged 
Miacdonald  to  single  comfbat.  Before  "they  met,  however,  'Montrose,  on 
the  informiation  and  by  advice,  as  It  is  s-aid,  of  Kilpont  laid  them  both 
under  arrest.  Montrose,  seeing  the  evil  of  such  a  feud  at  such  a  critcal 
time,  effected  a  sort  of  reconciliation  between  them,  and  forced  them 
to  shake  hands  in  his  presence;  when  it  was  said  that  Ardvoirlich, 
who  was  a  very  powerful  man,  took  such  a  hold  of  Macdonald' s 
hand  as  to  make  the  blood  start  from  his  fingers.  Still,  it  would  ap- 
pear, Ardvoirlich  was  by  no  means  reconciled. 

"A  few  days  after  the  battle  of  Tlppermuir,  when  Montrose  with 
his  army  was  encamped  at  Collace,  an  entertainment  was  given  by 
him  to  his  officers  in  honor  of  the  victory  he  had  obtained,  and  Kil- 
pont and  'his  <M3mpanion  Ardvoirlich  were  of  tJhe  party.  After  return- 
ing to  their  quarters.  Ardvoirlich,  who  seemed  still  to  brood  over  his 
quarrel  with  Macdon<a.ld,  and  being  heated  with  drink,  began  to 
blame  Lord  Kilpont  for  the  part  he  'had  taken  in  preventing  his  ob- 
taining his  redress,  and  reflecting  against  Montrose  for  not  aUowing 
him  what  he  considered  proper  reparation.  Kilpont,  of  course, 
defended  the  conduct  of  himself  and  his  relative  Montrose,  till  their 
argument  came  o  hJgh  'words;  and  finally,  from  the  state  they  were 
both  in,  by  an  easy  transition  to  blcws,  when  Ardvoirlich,  with  his 
dirk,  struck  Kilpont  dead  on  the  spot.  He  immediately  fled,  and, 
under  the  cover  of  a  thick  mist,  escaped  pursuit,  leaving  his  eldest 
eon  Henry,  who  had  been  mortally  wounded  at  Tippermudr,  on  his 
deathbed. 

"His  followers  inwnediately  withdrew  from  Montrose,  and  no 
course  remained  for  him  but  to  throw  hijmself  into  the  arms  of  the 
opposite  faction,  by  whom  he  was  well  received.  His  name  is  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  Leslie's  campaigns,  and  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion he  is  mentioned  as  having  afforded  protection  to  several  of  his 
former  friends  through  his  interest  with  Leslie,  when  the  King's 
cause  became  desperate. 

"The  foregoing  account  of  this  unfortunate  transaction,  I  am  well 
aware  differs  materially  from  the  account  given  by  Wishart,  who  al- 
leges that  Stewart  had  laid  a  plot  for  the  assassination  of  Montrose, 
and  that  he  murdered  Lord  Kilpont  in  consequence  of  his  refusal  to 
^lii'^P^^  }?  '^^t  design.  Now,  I  may  be  allowed  to  remark  that, 
^A^J^^^^V^  having  always  been  regar(ied  as  a  partial  historian, 
^^,Z^  questionable  authority  on  any  subject  connected  with  the 
^^li^n'^f''''"'^^''^  ""^  *5°^^  y^°  differed  from  him  in  opinion,  that 
%^^^t^}^^^}  formed  such  a  design,  Kilpont,  from  his  name  and 
^onlT.^hn^'.*.'^®  "^f  y  ^"^  be  the  very  last  man  of  whom  Stewart 
hand  tho  o^i^  ™^^®  \  confidant  and  accomplice.  On  the  other 
nana,    the   above   account,    though   never,    that   I  am   aware,    before 


8Gt  WAVERLEY  N  OVELS 

hiwted  at,  has  been  a  constant  tradition  In  the  family;  aad,  from  the 
oormporaitive  recent  date  of  the  transaction,  an<d  the  sources  froon 
w'hich  the  tradition  has  been  derived,  I  have  no  occasion  to  doubt  its 
perfect  auiChenticdty.  It  was  naoet  circumistainitially  detailed  as  above, 
g-iven  to  my  father.  Mr.  Stewart,  now  of  Ardvoirlich,  many  years  ago, 
by  >a  iman  nearly  connected  .with  the  Hamiily,  wiho  lived  to  the  age  of 
100.  This  man  was  a  great-tgrandson)  of  James  Stewart,  by  a  natural 
son  John,  of  whom  many  stories  are  ©tiW  current  in  this  country,  un- 
der his  appellation  of  John  dhu  Mohr.  This  John  was  fwlth  his  father 
at  the  time,  and  of  course  was  a  witness  of  the  whole  transaction;  he 
lived  'till  a  considerable  time  after  the  Revolution,  and  it  was  from 
Ihim  that  my  father's  informant,  who  was  a  iman  before  his  gra/nd- 
f ather  John  dhu  Mohr's  death,  received  the  information  as  above 
stated. 

"I  have  many  a^>ologies  to  offer  (for  trespassing  so  kxng-  on  your 
patience;  but  I  felt  a  natural  desdre,  if  posisible,  to  correct  what  I  con- 
ceive to  be  a  g'roundless  innputation  on  the  memory  of  my  ancestor 
before  it  shall  come  to  be  considered  as  matter  of  history.  That  he 
was  a  man  of  violent  passion  and  singular  temper,  I  do  not  pretend 
to  deny,  as  many  tradttiions  still  current  in  this  country  amply  ver- 
ify; but  ithat  he  was  ^capable  of  forming  a  design  to  assassinate 
Montrose,  the  whole  tenor  of  his  former  conduct  and  principles  con- 
tradict. That  he  -was  obliged  to  join  the  opposite  party,  was  merely  a 
m-atter  of  safety,  while  Kilpont  had  so  many  powerful  friends  and 
connections  able  and  ready  to  avenge  his  death. 

"I  have  only  to  add,  that  you  have  my  ifuH  permdssion  to  make 
what  usf!  of  this  communication  you  please,  and  either  to  reject  it 
altogether  or  allow  it  such  credit  as  you  think  it  deserves;  and  I 
shall  'be  ready  at  all  times  to  furnish  you  with  any  (further  informa- 
tion on  this  subject  which  you  may  require,  and  which  it  may  be  in 
my  power  to  afford. 

"ARDVOIRLICH,    loth    January   1830." 

The  publication   of  a  statement  so  particular,   and  probably  so 
correct,  is  a  debt  due  to  the  memory  of  James  Stewart;  the  victim,  it 
would  seem,  of  his  own  violent  passions  but  perhape  incapable  eft  an 
act  of  premeditated  treaohery. 
ABBOTSFORD,    1st  Am^ust  IWO. 


NOTES  TO  THE  BLACK  DWARF 

NOTE  1. — MR.  JEDEDIAH  CLEISHBOTHAM'S  INTERPOLATIONS,  p.  2 

We  have.  In  this  and  other  instsances,  printed  in  Italdcs  gome  few  words 
which  the  worthy  editor,  Mr.  Jedediah  Cleishbotham,  seems  to  have 
interpolated  upon  the  text  of  his  deceased  friend,  Mr.  Pattieson.  We 
must  observe,  once  for  all,  that  such  liberties  seem  only  to  have  been 
taken  by  the  learned  gentleman  where  his  own  chcuracter  and  conduct 
are  oonoemed;  and  surely  he  moist  be  the  best  judge  of  the  stylo  in 
which  his  own  character  and  conduct  Sihould  be  treated  of. 

NOTE  2.— THE   BLACK   DWARF,    p.    4 

The  Black  Dwarf,  now  almost  forgotten,  was  once  held  a  formid- 
able personage  by  th  edalesmen  of  the  Border,  where  (he  got  the  blame 
of  Whatever  mischief  befell  the  sheep  or  cattle.  "He  was,"  says  Dr. 
Leyden,  who  makes  oooisiderable  use  of  him  in  the  ballad  called  the 
"Gout  of  Keeldar,"  "a  fairy  of  the  most  malignant  order— the  genuine 
Northern  Duergar."  The  'best  and  most  authentic  acoount  of  this 
dangerous  and  mysterious  being  occurs  in  a  tale  communicated  to  the 
author  by  that  eminent  antiquary,  Richard  Surtees,  Esq.  otf  Mains- 
fort'h,  author  of  the  "History  of  the  Bishopric  of  Durham.'* 

According  to  this  well-attested  legend,  two  young  Northumbrians 
were  out  on  a  shooting  party,  and  had  plunged  deep  among  the  moun- 
tainous moorlands  which  border  on  Cumberland.  They  stopped  for  re- 
freshments in  a  little  secluded  dell  by  the  side  of  a  rivulet.  There, 
after  they  had  partaken  of  such  food  as  they  brought  with  them,  one 
of  the  party  fell  asleep;  the  other,  unwilling  to  disturb  his  friend's 
repose,  stole  silently  out  of  the  dell  with  the  purpose  of  looking 
around  him,  when  he  was  astonished  to  find  himself  close  to  a  being 
who  seemed  not  to  belong  to  this  world,  as  he  was  the  most  hideous 
dwarf  that  the  sun  had  ever  shone  on.  His  head  was  of  full  human 
size,  forming  a  frightful  contrast  with  his  'height,  which  was  consid- 
erably under  four  feet.  It  was  thatched  with  no  other  covering  than 
long,  matted  red  hair,  like  that  of  the  fell  of  a  badger  In  consistence, 
and  in  color  a  reddish  brown,  like  the  hue  of  the  heather-blossom. 
His  limbs  seemed  of  grea*  streng*th;  nor  was  he  otherwise  deformed 
than  from  their  undue  proportion  in  thickness  to  his  diminutive 
height.  The  terrified  sportsman  stood  gazing  on  this  horrible  appari- 
tion, until,  with  an  angry  countenance,  the  being  demanded  by  what 
right  he  intruded  himself  on  those  hills  and  destroyed  their  harmless 
inhabitants.  The  perplexed  stranger  endeavored  to  propitiate  the  in- 
censed dwarf  by  offering  to  surrender  his  game,  as  he  would  to  an 
earthly  lord  of  the  manor.  The  proposal  only  redoubled  the  offense 
already  taken  by  the  dwarf,  who  alleged  th^t  he  was  the  lord  of 
those  mountains,  and  the  protector  of  the  wild  creatures  who  found 
a  retreat  in  their  solitary  recesses,  and  that  all  epoils  derived  from 
their  death  or  misery  were  abhorrent  to  him.  The  hunter  humbled 
himself  before  the  angry  goblin,  and  by  protestations  of  his  igno- 
rance, and  of  his  resolution  to  abstain  from  euoh  intrusions  in  future, 
at  last  succeeded  In  pacifying  him.     The  gnome  now  became 

853 


864  WA  VBRLEY  NO  VEL8 

communicative,  and  spoke  of  himself  as  belonging  to  a  species  of 
beings  something  between  the  angelic  race  and  humanity.  He  added, 
moreover,  which  oould  hardly  have  been  anticipated,  tha.t  he  had 
hopes  of  sharing  in  the  redemption  of  the  race  of  Adam.  He  pressed 
the  sportsman  to  visit  his  dwelling,  which  he  said  was  hard  by,  and 
plighted  his  f9,ith  for  his  safe  return.  But  at,  this  moment  the  shout 
of  the  sportsman's  companion  was  iheard  calling  for  his  friend,  and 
the  dwarf,  as  df  unwilling  that  more  than  one  person  should  be  cog- 
nizant of  Jiis  presence,  disappeared  as  the  young  man  emerged  from 
the  dell  to  join  his  comrade. 

It  was  the  universal  opinion  of  those  most  experienced  in  such 
matters  that,  If  the  shooter  had  accompanied  the  spirit,  he  would, 
notwithstanding  the  dwarf's  fair  pretences,  have  been  either  torn  to 
pieces  or  immured  for  years  in  the  recesses  of  some  fairy  hill. 

Such  Is  the  last  and  most  authentic  account  of  the  apparition  of 
the  Black  Dwarf. 

NOTE   3.— THE   RElIViBR    OP   WBSTBURNinLAT,    p.    39 

This  was  in  reality  the  designation  of  one  of  the  last  Border  rob- 
bers, at  least  one  of  the  last  Scottish  men  who  pursued  that  ancient 
occupation.  He  is  probably  placed  about  forty  or  fifty  years  too 
late  by  introducing  him  at  the  beginning  of  the  18th  century.  He  is 
said  to  have  been  condemned  to  death  at  the  last  clrcuiit  of  the 
Court  of  Judiciary  which  was  iheld  in  the  town  of  Selkirk.  When 
the  judge  was  about  to  pronounce  sentence,  the  prisoner  arose,  and 
being  a  man  of  great  strength,  broke  asunder  one  of  the  benches, 
and,  seizing  on  a  fragment,  was  about  to  fight  his  way  out  of  the 
court-house.  But  his  companions  in  misfortune — for  several  persons 
had  been  convicted  along  with  him— held  his  hands  and  implored 
him  to  permit  them  to  die  the  death  of  Christians;  and  both  he  and 
they,  agreeab-le  to  their  decorous  desire,  had  full  honors  of  rope  and 
gallows. 

Westburnflat  itself  is  situated  on  the  small  river  or  brook  called 
Hermitage,  not  far  from  its  junction  with  the  Liiddel,  [See  Introduc- 
tion to  "Johnie  Armstrong"  in  "Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border," 
vol.  1.] 

NOTE    4,— THE    BROUZE,    p.    43 

The  Brouze  is  a  fashion  not  yet  out  of  da:to  a;t  country  bridals. 
The  best-mounted  gallants  present  gallop  as  fast  as  they  can  from 
the  church  to  the  (bride's  door,  and  the  first  to  arrive  gets  a  silk 
handkerchief  or  some  such  (token.  The  name  seems  to  be  taken 
from  the  dish  of  brose  with  which  he  who  won  the  race  was  anciently 
le^^aled. 


NOTE  5.— BORDERERS  IN  PUV.NDERS,   p.  47 

Welter,  first  Lord  Scott  of  Buccleuch,  carried  a  legion  of  Bor- 
derers ito  'the  wars  of  Flanders  to  assist  the  Prince  of  Orange  against 
the  Spaniard.  They  were  welcomed  to  the  country  where  war  was 
raging,  and  their  absence  was  felt  as  a  relief  in  that  where  peace, 
from  the  union  of  the  crowns,  was  become  desirable. 

NOTE   6.— TURNER'S   HOLAI.    p.    62 

There  is  a  level  meadow,  on  the  very  margin  of  the  two  kingdoms, 
called  Turner's  Holm,  just  where  the  brook  called  Crissop  joins  tne 
Llddel.  It  is  said  to  have  derived  its  name  as  being  a  place  ire- 
quently  assigned  for  tourneys  during  the  ancient  Border  times. 

NO-raS  7.— PIERCED  LINTEI-.  p.  «3 

A  wbaUT  tttle  is  told  about  many  a  Border  J^tel.  The  blade, 
after  having  carved  the  freestone,  is  generally  said  to  have  ao  nar- 


KOTBS  855 

rowly  missed  the  person  of  the  fugitive  as  to  cut  the  points  of  hi? 
trunk-hose.  An  example  is  shown  on  the  upper  lintel  of  the  gate  of 
the  old  castle  at  Druanmelzier,  impreesed  by  the  arm  of  Veitch  of 
Dyook  [Dawick]. 

NOTE  8.— MACPHERSON'S  RANT,  p.  88 

[The  old  ballad  of  "Macpherson's  Rant,"  composed  at  the  time  of 
his  execution,  is  printed  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs  «und  Ballads,  vol.  i., 
p.  99;  but  the  lines  here  quoted  are  from  Burns's  version,  beginning— 
"Farewell,    ye   dungeons    dark    and    strong." 

NOTE  9.— LUCK-LN-A-BAG,  p.  89 

In  confirmation  of  what  is  said  concerning  the  Border  Jacobites 
of  inferior  rank,  the  reader  may  consult  what  is  said  by  the  Rev- 
erend IMr,  Patten  concerning  the  cavalry  of  the  Earl  of  Derwent- 
water  in  1715.  After  giving  some  account  of  Captain  Hunter  and 
Captain  I>ouglas,  by  each  of  whom  a  troop  was  levied,  the  historian 
adds: 

"To  this  account  of  these  two  gentlemen  I  shall  add,  as  a  pleas- 
ant story,  what  one  chose  to  remark  upon  them.  When  he  heard 
that  the  former  (Captain  Hunter)  was  gone  with  his  troop  back  Into 
England,  as  was  then  given  out,  to  take  up  quarters  for  the  w*hol0 
army,  who  were  to  follow  and  fall  upon  General  Carpenter  and  his 
small  and  wearied  troops,  he  said,  'Let  but  Hunter  and  Douglas, 
with  these  men,  quarter  near  General  Carpenter,  and  i'  faith  they'll 
not  leave  them  a  horse  to  mount  upon.'  His  reason  was  supposed  to 
be  because  these  gentlemen,  with  their  men,  had  been  pretty  well 
versed  in  horse-stealing,  or  at  least  susi>€toted  as  such.  For  an  old 
Borderer  was  pleased  to  say,  when  he  was  informed  that  a  great 
many,  if  not  all,  of  the  loose  fellows  and  suspected  horse-stealers 
were  gone  into  the  Rebellion,  'It's  an  ill  wind  blows  nobody  profit; 
for  now,'  continued  he,  'I  can  leave  my  stable-door  unlocdced  and 
sleep  sound  a' nights  since  Luck-in-a-Bag  and  the  rest  are  gone  to 
the  wars.'  " — History  of  the  Late  Rebellion,  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Patten, 
3d  Edition,  London,  1717,  p.  63. 

NOTE  10.--CAPTAIN  GRBE^,   p.  93 

This  unfortunate  mariner  was  commander  of  an  armed  vessel  en- 
gaged in  the  East  Indian  trade,  called  "The  Worcester."  He  waa 
seized  at  Ediniburgh  and  tried  before  the  Admiralty  Court  there  for 
an  alleged  act  of  piracy  committed  on  a  vessel  belonging  to  the 
Scottish  Darien  Company,  called  "The  Rising  Sun,"  the  orew  of 
which  Green  was  said  to  have  murdered,  and  plundered  the  cargo. 
He  suffered  death  iwith  two  others  of  his  crew  for  thils  alleged  offence, 
of  which  he  appears  to  have  been  innocent,  and  certainly  was  not 
convicted  on  credible  evidence.  [See  State  TrdaJs,  1705,  vol.  xdv.— 
Laing.] 

NOTE  li.— PRETENDER'S  DESCENT  UPON  SCOTLAND   (1707),  p.  96 

The  period  of  the  novel  corresponds  to  the  spring  of  1707,  when  BJi 
invasion  by  the  Chevalier  Saint  George,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
French  auxiliaries,  was  uaiveDsally  expected,  and  wh-en  the  greater 
part  of  Scotland,  dissatisfied  with  the  Union,  was  well  oonteait  to 
have  received  the  heir  of  the  House  of  Stuart  with  open  arm«.  The 
alert  conduct  of  Admiral  Sir  George  Byng,  iwho  fallowed  the  Fremch 
squadron  into  the  Firth  of  Forth,  -and  the  coldness  and  indifference 
of  the  French  Commodore,  Count  Fourbdn.  who  refused  to  suffer  the 
Chevalier  to  disembark,  lost  an  opportunity  wthich  was  the  most 
favora.ble  to  the  restoration  of  the  Stuart  line  that  had  occurred  since 
the  Revolution.  While  the  French  squadron  was  in  the  Forth  the 
Jacobite  gentlemen  of  Stirlingshire  took  arms  as  Ellieslaw;s  party 
are  represented  to  have  done;  but,  on  learning  that  the  flotula  was 
chased  off  the  coast,  they  dispersed  and  returned  to  their  homes.  Stir- 
ling of  KeiT,  Edmondstone  of  Newton,  and  other  gentlemen,  were 
tried  for  high  treas'on;  but.  as  no  proof  could  be  brought  of  any  dis- 
tinct or  overt  act  of  rebellion,  or  of  their  having  other  arms  thaa 
swords  and  pistols,  then  generally  worn  by  all  travellers,  they  were 
acouitted  for  want  of  evidence.. 


/ 


NOTES  TO  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 


NOTE   1.— MORGENSTERN,    p.    175 

This  was  a,  sort  of  club  or  mace,  used  in  the  earlier  part  of  tfhe 
seventeenth  century  in  the  defense  of  breaches  and  walls.  When  the 
Germana  insulted  a  Scotch  regiment  then  besieged  in  Trailsund,  say- 
ing they  heard  there  was  a  ship  come  from  Denmark  to  them  laden 
with  tobacco  pipes,  "one  of  our  soldiers,"  said  Col.  Robert  Munro, 
"showing  them  over  the  work  a  morgens-tern,  made  of  a  large  stock 
banded  with  iron,  like  the  shaft  of  a  halberd,  with  a  round  globe  at 
the  end  with  cross  iron  pikes,  saith,  11  ere  is  one  of  the  tobacco  pipes 
wherewith  we  will  beat  out  your  brains  when  ye  intend  to  storm 
us.'  " 

NOTE    2.— COLONIZATION    OF    LEWIS,    p.    221 

In  the  reign  of  James  VI.  an  attempt  of  rather  an  extraordinary 
kind  was  made  to  civilize  the  extreme  northern  part  of  the  Hebri- 
dean  Archipelago.  That  monarch  granted  the  property  of  the  Island 
of  Lewis,  as  if  it  had  been  an  unknown  and  savage  country,  to  a 
number  of  Lowland  gentlemen,  called  undertakers,  chiefly  natives  of 
the  shire  of  Fife,  that  they  might  colonize  and  settle  there.  The  en- 
terprise was  at  first  successful;  but  the  natives  of  the  island,  Mac- 
Leods and  MacKenzies,  rose  on  the  Lowland  adventurers  and  put 
most  of  them  to  the  sword. 

NOTE  3.— LITERAL.   PROSE   TRANSLATION,    p.    224, 

The  admirers  of  pure  Celtic  antiquity,  notwithstanding  the  ele- 
gance of  the  translation  in  the  text,  may  be  desirous  to  see  a  literal 
version  from  the  original  Gaelic,  which  we  therefore  subjoin;  and 
have  only  to  add  that  the  original  is  deposited  with  Mr.  Jedediah 
Cleishbotham. 

LITERAL   TRANSLATION 

The  hail-blost  had  driiftted  away  upon  tlie  -wings  of  the  gale  of 
autumin.  The  sun  looked  -from  between  -the  clouds,  pale  as  the 
wounded  hero  who  rears  his  head  feebly  on  the  heath  w*hen  the 
roar  of  'battle  hafeh  passed  over  him. 

Finele.  the  Lady  of  the  Oastle,  came  forth  to  see  her  maJdeais 
pass  to  the  'herds  with  their  leglins. 

There  sat  an  orphan  maiden  beneafh  the  old  oak-tree  of  appolnit- 
ment.  The  withered  leaves  fell  around  her,  and  her  heart  was  more 
withered  than  they. 

The  parent  of  the  ice  (poetically  taken  for  the  frost)  still  con- 
gealed the  hail-drops  in  her  hair;  they  were  Mke  the  specks  of  white 
a^es  on  the  twisted  boughs  of  the  blackened  and  half-consumed 
oak  that  blazes  in  the  hall. 

367 


868  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

And  the  maiden  said,  'XJive  ime  oomfopt,  liady,  I  am  an  orphan 
Child."  And  the  Lady  repWed,  "How  can  I  gvve  t'het  which  I  hav© 
not?  I  am  the  widow  of  a  slain  lord,  the  mother  of  a  perished  child. 
When  I  fled  in  my  fear  from  the  veng-e-ance  oif  my  'husband's  foe,  our 
bark  was  overwhelmed  in  the  tide,  amd  my  infant  perished.  Thia 
was  on  St.  Bridtget's  morn,  near  tlie  strong  Linns  of  Campsie.  May 
ili-lu)ck  light  upon  t'he  day."  And  the  maiden  ejisiwered,  "It  was  on 
St.  Bridget's  mom,  and  twelve  harvests  before  this  time,  that  the 
fishermen  of  Caimpsie  drew  in  their  nets  neither  grilse  nor  salmon, 
but  an  infant  half  dead,  who  hath  since  lived  in  misery,  and  mu»t 
die  unless  s'he  is  now  aided."  And  the  Lady  ansiwered,  "Blessed  be 
Saint  Bridget  and  her  morn,  for  these  are  tihe  dark  eyes  and  the 
fajlcon  look  of  my  slain  lord,  and  thine  shall  be  the  dmheritance  of 
his  wudow."  And  she  called  for  her  waiting  attendants,  and  she  bade 
them  clothe  that  maiden  in  sdlk  and  in  samite;  and  <the  pearls  which 
they  wove  among  her  tolack  tresses  were  wihiter  thaji  the  frozen 
hail-drops. 

NOTE  4.— FIDES   BT  FIDUCIA  SUNT  RBLATIVA,   p.    239 

The  military  men  of  the  times  argued  upon  dependencies  of  honor, 
as  they  called  them,  with  all  the  metaphysical  argumentation  of 
civilians  or  sohool  divines. 

The  English  officer  to  whom  Sir  James  Turner  was  p-risoner  after 
t'he  rout  at  Uttoxeter  demanded  his  parole  of  honor  not  to  go  beyond 
the  walls  of  Hull  without  liberty,  "He  broug-ht  me  'bhis  message  him. 
self.  I  told  him  I  was  ready  'to  do  it,  iprovided  he  removed  his  guards 
from  me  .  .  .  for  fides  et  fiducia  sunt  relativa;  and.  if  he  took  my 
word  for  my  iflxielity,  'he  was  oibliged  to  trust  it,  otherwise  It  was 
needless  for  luim  to  seek  It,  and  in  vaan  (for  ane  to  give  it;  and 
therefore  I  beseeched  him  eit'her  to  give  trust  to  my  word,  w;hi<oh 
I  should  not  break,  or  to  his-  own  guiards.  who  I  euipiposed  would  not 
deceive  'himw  In  this  manner  I  dealt  with  him,  because  I  knew  he 
was  e  scholar."— Turner's  Memodrs,  p.  80.  T'he  English  officer  al- 
lowed the  strength  of  the  reasoning;  but  that  concise  reasoner,  Crom- 
well, soon  put  an  end  to  the  dilemima:  "Sir  Jaones  Turner  must  give 
his  parole  or  <be  laid  in  Irons." 

NOTE  5.— BARONIAL,  BSPIONAOH,   p.   28$ 

The  precarious  staite  of  the  feudal  nobles  lntrodu'c«fl  a  great  deal 
of  espionage  into  their  castles.  Sir  Rol>ert  Carey  mentions  his  having 
put  on  the  cioak  of  one  of  his  own  wardens  to  obtain  a  confession  from 
the  mouth  of  Oeordie  Bourne,  his  prisoner,  whom  he  caused  presently 
to  be  hanged  in  return  ifor  tthe  frankness  of  his  comimunication.  The 
fine  old  Border  castle  of  Naworth  contains  a  private  stair  from  the 
apartment  of  the  Lord  William  Howard,  by  /whioih  he  could  visit  the 
dungeon,  cm  is  alleged  in  chapter  xiil.  to  have  been  praatised  by  the 
Marquis  of  Argyle.    [See  "The  Monastery,"  note  "Julian  Avenel."] 

NOTE  6.— MILTON  ON  THE  SCOTCH,   p.    277 

Milton's  book,  entitled  "Tetrachordon,"  had  been  ridiculed,  it  would 
Beem,  by  the  divines  assembled  at  Westminster,  and  others,  on  ac- 
count of  the  hardness  of  the  tttle;  and  Milton  in  his  oonnet  retaliates 
upon  the  barbarous  Scottish  names  which  the  Civil  War  had  mad* 
facnlllar  to  Englisih  ears: 

Why  Is  it  harder,  sirs,  «hao  Gordon. 
Colkitto,   or  Macdonnel,   or  Galasp? 
These  rugged  names  to  our  like  mouths  grew  eleek, 
That   would   have    made    Quintilian   stare   and    B&ap. 

••We  may  suppose,"  saye  Bishop  Newiton,  "that  these  were  peroona 
of  note  among  the  Scotch  ministers,  who  were  for  pressing  and  en- 
forcinsT  the  Covenant;"  whereas  Milton  only  intends  to  ridicule  the 
barbarism  of  9ootti»h  names  in  general,  and  quotes,  indiscriminately, 
thmt,  ol  G*lle®ple,  one  of  the  Apoetles  of  th©  Covenant,  and  thoa©  <H 


l^OTES  858 

NDTS  7.— BAILLIE'S  LETTERS,  p.   281 

We  choose  to  quote  our  atuthority  for  a  fact  so  singular— "A  great 
many  burgesses  were  killed,  twenty-five  householders  in  St.  An- 
drews, many  were  bursten  in  the  flight,  and  died  without  Btrolte."— 
See  Baillie's  Letters,  vol.  ii.,  p.  92.— Edinburgh,  1775.  In  the  Ban- 
natyne  Club  edition,  1811,  vol.  U.,  p.  262  (Laing). 

NOTE  8.— BOWS  AND  ARROWS,  p.  289 

In  fact,  for  the  admirers  of  archery  H  may  be  stated,  not  only 
that  many  of  the  Highlanders  in  Montrose's  army  used  these  antique 
missiles,  but  even  in  England  the  bow  and  quiver,  once  the  glory  of 
the  bold  yeomen  of  that  land,  were  occasionally  used  during  the 
preat  civil  wars. 


NOTE    9.— WRAITHS,    p.    298 

A  species  of  apparition,  similar  to  whait  the  Germans  call  a 
Double-Ganger,  was  believed  in  by  the  Celtic  tribes,  and  is  still  con- 
sidered as  an  emblem  of  misfortune  or  death.  Mr.  Kirk  (see  Rob 
Roy,  p.  399),  the  minister  of  Aberfoil,  who  will  no  doubt  be  able  to 
tell  us  more  of  the  matter  should  he  ever  come  back  from  Fairyland, 
gives  us  the  following: 

"Some  imen  of  that  exalted  sight,  whether  by  art  or  nature,  have 
told  me  they  have  seen  at  these  meetings  a  double  man,  or  the  shape 
of  some  man  in  two  places,  that  is,  a  superterranean  and  a  subter- 
ranean inhabitant  perfectly  resembling  one  another  in  all  points, 
whom  he,  notwithstanding,  could  easily  distinguish  one  from  another 
by  some  secret  tokens  and  operations,  and  so  go  speak  to  the  man 
his  neighbor  and  familiar,  passing  by  the  apparition  or  resemblance 
of  hiim.  They  avouch  that  every  element  and  different  state  of  being 
have  animals  resembling  those  of  another  element,  as  there  be  fishes 
sometimes  at  sea  resembling  monks  of  late  order  in  all  their  'hoods 
and  dresses,  so  as  the  Roman  invention  of  good  and  bad  daemons 
and  guardian  ange'.s  particularly  assigned  Is  called  by  them  one 
ignorant  mistake,  springing  only  from  this  original.  They  call  this 
reflex  man  a  co-walker,  every  way  like  the  man,  as  <a  twin-brother 
and  companion,  haunting  him  as  his  shadow,  as  is  oft  seen  and 
known  among  men  (resembling  the  original)  both  before  and  after 
the  original  is  dead,  and  was  also  often  seen  of  old  to  enter  a  house, 
by  which  the  people  knew  that  the  person  of  that  likeness  was  to 
visit  them  within  a  few  days.  This  copy,  echo,  or  living  picture 
goes  at  last  to  hts  own  herd.  It  aocompanied  that  person  so  long 
and  frequently  for  ends  best  known  to  itself,  whether  to  guard  him 
from  the  secret  assault  of  some  of  its  own  folks,  or  only  as  an  sport- 
ful ape  to  counterfeit  all  his  actions." — Kirk's  Secret  Common- 
wealth, p.  3. 

The  two  following  apparitions,  resembling  the  visions  of  Alan 
M'Aulay  in  the  text,  occur  in  Theophilus  Insulanus  (Rev.  Mr.  Eras- 
er's Treatise  on  the  Second  Sight,  Relations  x.  and  xxvii.). 

"Barbara  MacPherson,  relict  of  the  deceased  Mr.  Alexander  Mac- 
Leod, late  minister  of  St.  Kilda,  informed  me  the  natives  of  that 
island  have  a  particular  kind  of  second  sight,  which  is  always  a 
forerunner  of  their  approaching  end.  Some  months  before  they 
sicken  they  are  haunted  with  an  apparition,  resembling  themselves 
in  all  respects  as  to  their  person,  features  or  clothing.  This  image, 
seemingly  animated,  walks  with  them  in  the  field  in  broad  daylight; 
and  if  they  are  employed  in  delving,  harrowing,  seed  sowing  or  any 
other  occupation,  they  are  at  the  same  time  mimicked  by  this  ghost- 
ly visitant.  My  informer  added  further,  that,  hayin^g  visited  a  sick 
person  of  the  inhabitants,  she  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire  of  him,  if 
at  any  time  he  had  seen  any  resemblance  of  himself  as  above  de- 
scribed; he  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and  told  iher  that,  to  make 
further  trial,  as  be  was  going  out  of  his  house  in  a  morning,  he  put 
on  straw-'rop©  gtartens  instead  of  these  he  formerly  used,  and  having 
gone  to  the  fields,  hie  other  self  appeared  in  suoh  garters.  The  con- 
clusior'  was.  -the  sick  man  died  of  that  ailment,  and  he  no  longer 
questioned  the  truth  of  tlhojse  remarkable  presages," 


860  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

"MaxTgeret  MacsLeod,  an  honest  woman  advanced  In  years,  In- 
formed me  that,  when  she  was  a  5'oung*  woman  in  the  family  of 
Grishirnish,  a,  dairymaid,  who  daily  ueed  *o  herd  the  calves  in  a  park 
close  to  the  house,  observed,  at  different  tameB,  a  woman  resembling 
herself  in  shape  and  attire,  waltoing  solitarily  at  no  great  distance 
from  her,  and  being  surprised  at  the  apparition,  to  make  further 
trial,  she  put  the  back  part  of  her  upper  gairment  foremost,  and  anon 
the  pihantom  was  dressed  in  the  same  manner,  which  made  her  un- 
easy, believing  it  portended  some  fatal  consequences  to  herself.  In 
a  short  time  thereafter  she  was  seized  with  a  fever,  which  brought 
her  to  her  end,  but  before  her  sickness  and  on  her  deathbed,  de- 
clared the  second  siglht  to  severails." 

NOTE  10.— ANDREW  M' DONALD,  p.  336 

These  verses  of  M'Donald's,  given  by  the  Author  ais  a  traaislatiori 
of  a  "little I. Gaelic  song,"  occur  as  Air  xxvii.,  with  several  verbal 
variations,  in  "Love  and  Loyalty,  an  Opera,"  included  in  the  post- 
humous volume  entitled  "The  Miscellaneous  Works  of  A.  M'Donald, 
including  the  Tragedy  of  Vimonda,"  etc.,  Lend.,  1791,  8vo.  The  author, 
Andrew  M' Donald,  was  born  at  Leith,  the  son  of  Georg-e  Donald,  a 
gardener  there,  in  the  year  1755.  He  was  educated  at  Edinburgh,  and 
was  ordained  deacon  in  the  Episcopal  Churc*h  of  Scotland  by  Bishop 
Forbes  in  1775.  Ait  this  trlxne  he  prefixed  Mac  to  his  name,  and  two 
yeairs  later  had  the  oharge  of  a  ohapel  near  Glasgow,  but  owinig  to 
some  disputes  he  left  that  city,  and  devoted  him.self  to  literature, 
first  at  Edinburgh  and  latterly^to  follow  out  his  theatrical  specu- 
laticiis— in  London,  where  he  died  in  great  poverty  at  Kentish  Town, 
23d  August,  1790,  "falling  a  victim,  at  the  age  of  thirty- five,  to  sick- 
ne6\,  disappointment,  and  misfoiPtune"  (Lain^). 


GLOSSARY 

TO 

THE  BLACK  DWARF  and  A  LEGEND  OF  MONTROSE 


Abide,  to  put  up  with 
Abulyiements,        obsolete 

Scottish  form  of  habili- 
ments 
Abune,  above 
Ae,  one 
Aim,  iron 
Aith,  oath 
Alle  guter(n)  Geister,  etc. 

All  good  spirits,  praise 

the  Lord 
Allenarly,  solely 
Andrew  Ferrara,  a  basket- 

hilted  broadsword 
Angus-shire,  Forfarshire 
A    tres    bon     marche,    at 

small  cost,  a  cheap  rate 
Aught,  act   guardian    to, 

can  claim 
Auld   ancy  Old  Nick,  the 

devil 
Aut    quocunque,    etc.    or 

whatever  other  title  you 

enjoy 


Banders,  oonfederates 
Band-stane,    large    stone 
stretching  from  side  to 
side  of  a  wall 
Ba'-speil,  football  match 
Basto,  the  ace  of  clubs  in 
Tombre  and  some  other 
card-games 
Bathian.      See      Stephen 

Bathian 
Batoon,  baton 
Baudrons,  a  pet  name  for 

the  cat 
Bawbee,  a  halfpenny 
Beal,  a  narrow  pass 
Bedamar,  a    minor    con- 
spirator in  Otway's  Ve- 
nice Preserved. 
Bellenden      banner,     the 
banner  of  the  Scotts  or 
Buccleuchs,    from    Bel- 
lendean,    one    of    their 
possessions  on  the  upper 
Borthwick  Water,  west 
oC  Hawick 


Bent,  the  open  field,  open 
country 

Benyieglo,  or  Ben-y-Gloe, 
a  mountain  overlooking 
Glen  Tilt  in  the  north  of 
Perthshire 

Beso  a  usted  los  manos,  I 
kiss  my  hands  to  your 
honor 

Bethlen  Gabor,  that  is, 
Gabriel  Bethlon,  ruler  of 
Transylvania  from  1613 
to  1629 

Bicker,  wooden  bowl,  cup 

Bide,  to  wait,  remain, 
await,  stay 

Bien,  comfortable,  well 
provided  for 

Big,  to  build,  bigging, 
building 

Billie,  brother,  comrade, 

Birl,  to  turn,  cause  to 
whirr 

Bisognos,  raw,  undisci- 
plined recruits 

Black  dog''s  throat,  butter 
out  of.    See  Butter,  etc. 

Black  Douglas,  Good  Sir 
James,  the  staunch  sup- 
porter of  Bruce 

Blink,  a  moment,  Instant 

Blythe,  happy,  glad 

Bobadil,  a  military  brag- 
gart in  Ben  Jonson's 
Every  Man  in  his  Humor 

Bodle,  1  th  penny 

Bogilly,  haunted  by  hob- 
goblins 

Bogle,  hobgoblin,  ghost 

Bon  camarado.  a  good, 
trusty  comrade 

Bonus  socius,  a  trusty, 
faithful  comrade 

Book-lear,  book  learning 

Border  law.  See  Scott's 
Provincial  Antiquities, 
p.  116,  and  several  pas- 
sages in  George  Rid- 
path's  Border  History 
(1776  and  1848) 

Pore,  a  hole  ^ 
961 


Bothy,  a  Highland  hut 

Bouk,  bulk,  body 

Braw,  brave,  grand 

Brogues,  Highland  shoes, 
or  moccasins 

Broken  Highlandmen, 
men  who  belong  to  no 
clan,  outlaws 

Brown-bill,  a  sort  of  hal- 
berd, painted  brown, 
carried  by  private  sol- 
diers and  watchmen 

Burrouytown,  barrows' 
toun,  a  royal  borough 

Butter  out  of  a  black  dog'a 
throat,  a  proverbial  ex- 
pression for  something 
that  is  irrecoverable 

By,  or  bye,  besides,  above 
(excepting;;  by  ordinary 
out  of  the  common 

Caduacs,  casualties 

Coeteris  paribus,  other 
things  being  equal 

Calabalero,  or  cabalerot 
cavalier,  gentleman 

Calcavella,  a  sweet  white 
wine,  made  at  Carcavel- 
hos  in  Portugal 

Gallant,  a  lad 

Camarado,  a  comrade,  the 
equal  of 

Camisade,  a  night  attack 

Cantrip,  a  freak,  trick 

Ca^perfaey  or  Caberfae^ 
tne  Earl  of  Seaforth 

Carey^  Mr.  Robert,  It  is 
Thomas  Carew  who  is 
meant,  and  the  poem  is 
entitled  Elegy  upon  the 
Death  of  Dr.  Donne 

Carle,  fellow 

Carline,  old  woman 

Carocco,  probably  carajo^ 
a  common  Spanish  ex- 
clamation 

Cary.  Sir  Robert,  author 
of  Memoirs,  died  in  16S9 

Casus,  improvisus,  unfore- 
seen occurrence,  case 


a62 


WAVEBLET  NOVELS 


Cateran,  Highland  robber 

Catrail,  a  strauge  bound- 
ary ditch,  seemingly  de- 
signed to  defend  the 
Gaelic  or  Celtic  portion 
of  the  south  of  Scotland 
against  the  invasions  of 
the  Saxons 

Cautelous,  cautious 

Cavey,  hen-coop 

Cess,  the  land-tax 

Chamade,  a  signal  by 
drum  or  trumpet,  invit- 
ing to  a  parley 

Chare,  to  perform,  do 

Cheat-the-woodie,  Cheat- 
tbe-gallows,  gallows- 
bird 

Chield,  a  fellow 

Clairshach,  a  small  High- 
land harp 

Clam,  vi,  vel  precario,  by 
stealth  or  violence  or 
request 

Clanjamfrie,  tag-rag  and 
bobtail,  rabble,  promis- 
cuous company 

Clavers,  gossip,  nonsense 

Cleugh,  a  ravine 

Clewed  up,  coiled,  rolled 
up 

Cloot,  hoof,  head  of  cat- 
tle 

Corporal  oath,  an  oath 
strengthened  by  touch- 
ing a  sacred  object,  as 
the  corporal  or  linen 
altar-cloth  used  at  the 
celebration  of  the  Eu- 
charist 

Corps  de  logis,  the  main 
block  of  buildings 

Corragio!  courage  1 

Country  keeper,  a  sort  of 
police  officer  of  the  Bor- 
ders 

Couroultai,  undoubtedly 
a  corruption  of  the  Gae- 
lic comhairle  tighe,  a 
house  or  clan  council. 
Note  kuriltai,  the  assem- 
bly of  notables  amongst 
the  Mongols 

Crack,  to  converse  in  a 
lively  way  ;  cracks,  talk, 
chatter 

Cravats,  a  vulgar  name 
for  Croats,  light  cavalry 
recruited  chiefly 
amongst  the  Slavonic 
Croats.  In  France  in 
the  17th  century  the 
name  was  given  to  light 
horsemen  equipped  sim- 
ilar to  the  Croats 

Creish,  grease 

Crenelles,  loopholes  In  an 
embattlement  or  para- 
pet 

Creutzer,  a  GJermf^n  cop- 
per coin,  worth  Td  penny 

Crouse,  brisk,  confldeut 


CvMion,  a  despicable  fel- 
low, coward,  poltroon 
Cumraik,  Cumberland 
Curch,  a  kerchief,   head- 
covering 
Cumie,  a  band,  company 
Cynthius     aurem     vellit, 
Apollo  twitched  my  ear 

Daffi,ng,  f  rolickling 

Da/t,  crazy 

Damnum  fatale,  a  fatal 
injury 

Deaving,  deafening  with 
clamor 

DeiVs  hvxMe,  imp  of  Satan 

Diem  clausit  supremum,, 
his  last  day  is  come 

Ding,  to  cuff  about 

Dionysius,  the  Elder,  the 
tyrant  or  ruler  of  an- 
cient Syracuse 

Dirdum,  damage  dis- 
agreeable consequences 

Doit,  an  old  Scottish  coin, 
worth  ^th  penny  ;  also 
a  Dutch  coin  worth  half 
a  farthing 

Dooms,  confoundedly, 
very 

Door-cheek,  door-post 

Doorp,  or  dorp,  a  village 

Douce,  sober,  quiet 

Doughtna,  could  not 

Dour,  stubborn,  obstinate 

Dourlach,  quiver ;  liter- 
ally, satchel  (of  arrows) 

Downa,  do  not  like ; 
downa  do  mair  than 
they  dow,  cannot  do 
more  than  they  have 
power  to  do 

Dung,  knocked  about, 
driven 

Dunklespiel,  is  Diinkels- 
biihl,  a  town  on  the  bor- 
ders of  Bavaria  and  Wiir- 
temberg 

Earse,  or  Erse,  Gaelic,  the 
native  language  of  the 
Highlanders 

Ebrius,  intoxicated,  tipsy 

Een,  eyes, 

Eheu,  alas  1 

Eliding,  fuel 

Eithnik,  or  ethnic,  hea- 
thenish, pagan 

Eneuch,  eneugh,  enow, 
enough 

Ex  contrario,  on  the  other 
hand,  on  the  contrary 

Expeditus,  without  en- 
cumbrance 

Factionaries,  partisans 
Fahn-dragger,  an  ancient 

or  ensign 
Farl,  fourth  part 
Fary,  very 
Fash^  troubltt 


Fastern*s  E'en,  Shrove 
Tuesday 

Faur''d,  favored ;  ill- 
faur''d,  ugly 

Fetterlock,  leg  shackles 

Fiar,  one  who  holds  the 
reversion  of  property 

Fient  o'me,  a  strong  nega- 
tive 

Fiery  cross,  the  signal 
summoning  the  clans- 
men to  arms.  See  Lady 
of  the  Lake,  canto  iii 

Finland  cuirassiers.  Fin- 
land was  an  integral 
part  of  Sweden  down  to 
1809 

Fit,  foot :  make  mair  fit^ 
move  on  faster 

Flagrante  hello,  etc.whilst 
war  is  raging  fierce, 
much  more  amid  the  din 
of  battle 

Flam,  a  sudden  puff  of 
wind,  deception,  lie 

Fliegenden  Mercoeur,  the 
'Flying  Mercury 

Flow-moss,  morass 

Flung,  disappointed,  de- 
ceived 

Flyte,  scold,  quarrel 

Forbye,  besides  except 

Forehammer,  a  sledge- 
hammer 

For/end,  forbid,  prevent 

Forfoughten,  breathless, 
exhausted 

Fou,  full 

Foussee,  a  fosse,  ditch 

Frankfort,  on  the  Oder, 
was  stormed  by  Gusta* 
vus  on  3d  April  1631 

Freyaraf,  a  count  of  the 
Holy  Roman  (German) 
Empire 

Furcifer^  scouidrel,  ras- 
cal 

Gang,  go 

Ganz  fortreflich  (vortref- 

flich),  most  excellent 
Gar,     to     make,    oblige. 


Garioch,     a    district     of 

Aberdeenshire 
Gasconading,       boasting, 

bragging 
Gash,  shrewd,  sagacious 
Gate,    gait,    way,    mode, 

direction 
Gathering  peat,  the  piece 

of  turf  left  to  keep  the 

fire  alive 
Gear,  property 
Gelt,  or  geld,  money 
Giff-gaff,  one  eood    turn 

deserves  anotner,  in  old 

English  ka  me,  ka  thee^ 

mutually    serving     one 

another 
Ctmrner,  a  two-year  old 

ewe 


GLOSSART 


8S3 


Oird,  a  girth 

Girdle,  a  toasting-plate 

Girnel-kist,  corn-bin 

Gliff,  an  instant 

,Oowd,  gold 

Gowk,  a  fool 

Gowpen,  a  handful 

Graith,  furniture,  harness 

Grand  Pensionary  of  Am- 
sterdam, the  State  Sec- 
retary of  the  province 
of  Holland  is  meant 

Grane,  groan 

Grassmarket^  the  old  mar- 
ket-place, and  the  place 
of  public  execution,  in 
Edinburgh 

Greet,  to  cry,  weep 

Chrewsome,  frightful,  grim 

Grice,  a  sucking  pig 

Grotius,    the     celebrated 

^  Dutch    writer    on    The 

'  Laws  of  Peace  and  War 
(1625) 

Ch-umach,  ill-favored,  ugly 

Gude,  good 

Gude-dame,  grandmother 

Chiide,  to  treat  well  or  ill, 
manage 

Guthrie,  or  Guthry^  Bish- 
op^ in  his  Memoirs  (1702) 

Ha\  hall 

'■''Had  you  seen  hut  these 
Roads,'"  etc.,  the  inscrip- 
tion on  an  obelisk  nocr 
Fort  William.  See  Burt's 
Letters,  Letter  xxvi 

Hail-draps,  shot-corns 

Halberd,  to  receive  a,  to 
serve  as  a  common  sol- 
dier 

Hale,  hail,  haill,  whole 

Hallowe'en,  Burns'  poem ; 
Hallowe''en  nuts,  were 
used  in  making  certain 
divinations  on  Hallow- 
e'en 

Hantle,  a  good  many 

Har'st,  harvest 

Head  of  the  sow  to  the 
tail  of  the  grice  Jsuck- 
ing  pigj,  to  take  the  good 
with  the  bad 

Heads  arid  thraws.  See 
Thraws 

Heart  of  Midlouden,  the 
ancient  jail  of  Edin- 
burgh 

Heirship,  or  hership,  plun- 
dering, devastation 

Hellicat,  a  ruflBan,  wicked 
creature 

Henker  !  hangman  ;  what 
the  henker^  what  the 
deuce 1 

Hepburn,  Sir  John,  held 
high  command  under 
Qustavus  Augustus  till 
1838,  afterwards  under 
Louis  XIII.  of  France 


Herry,  harry 

Het,  hot 

Heyduk,  a  peculiar  class 
of  Hungarian  militia, 
light  foot-soldiers  ;  Pol- 
onian  heyduk,  Polish 
light  infantry  soldiers 

Heys,  dancing  steps 

Hie,  high 

High  Dutch,  that  is,  Hoch 
Deutsch,  the  modern 
classical  German 

Hinny,  honey,  an  affec- 
tionate mode  of  address 

Hirdi  e-girdie,  topsy- 
turvy, quite  confused 

Hirple,  to  halt,  walk  as  if 
lame 

Hoganmogans,  the  Dutch, 
the  word  being  a  corrup- 
tion of  Hoog  en  Mogend 
(High  and  Mighty),  the 
style  used  in  addressing 
the  States-General  of 
the  Netherlands 

Homologate,  to  approve, 
ratify,  sanction 

Horam  the  son  of  Asmar, 
the  hero  of  Sir  Chas. 
Morell's  (Jas.  Ridley's) 
Life  of  Horam,  the  Son 
of  Asmar,  in  H.  W. 
Weber's  Tales  of  the 
East  (1812) 

Howe,  a  hoe 

Humming  (beer),  strong 
beer  that  causes  a  hum- 
ming in  the  head.  Me- 
theglin  (and  so  beer)  was 
said  to  make  the  head 
hum  like  the  hive  from 
which  the  honey  of  the 
metheglin  was  taken 

Hurchin,  hedgehog 

Hurley-hou^e,  a  large 
house  nearly  ruinous 

Icolmkill,  lona,  the  sacred 
island  of  the  ancient 
Celtic  Church 

like,    ilka,     each,    every, 


Jaffeir  and  Pierre,  chief 
conspirators  in  Otway's 
Venice  Preserved 

Janizaries,  the  soldiers 
of  the  Sultan,  mostly 
Servians,  Bosnians, 
Bulgarians,  carried  off 
in  boyhood  and  forcibly 
converted  to  Moham> 
medanism 

Jeddart,  Jedburgh 

Jeroboam,  a  large  bowl 
or  goblet ;  the  liquor  it 
holds 

Jock  of  the  Side.  See 
Scott's  Border  Minis- 
trelsy,  vol.  ii.  p.  76 

Jookery-paukery,  trick- 
ery, jugglery 

Jow,  to  toll  a  large  bell  by 
moving  the  tongue  by 
hand 

Ju«  gentium,  the  law  of 
nations 

Jiistified,  executed 

Kail,  broth  made  of  greens 
Keb,  to  miscarry  (said  of 


Imaum,  the  oflBcer  who 
recites  the  prayers  in  a 
Mohammedan  mosque 

Impeditv^,  with  encum- 
brance 

Ingan,  onion 

In  nomine  domini,  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord 

Inter  pocula,  over  one's 
cups 

Intromit,  to  interfere  with 

Iprce  sequar,  go  on,  I  will 
follow 

Irish  engineer  officer.  Cap- 
tain Burt,  author  of 
Letters  from  the  North 
of  Scotland 

Ithacus,  Homer's  hero, 
Odysseus 

Ivy-tod,  ivy-bush 


Kenn^a,  Known 

Kent,  a  long  staff 

Kilt,  to  tuck  up ;  kilt 
awa\  carry  off 

King's  keys,  an  axe  and 
crowbar 

Kirschenwasser,  cherry- 
brandy 

Kist,  chest 

Knapscap,  or  knapscvM^  a 
headpiece,  helmet 

Knowe,  knoll 

Kye,  kine 

Kyle,  a  strait 

Lair,  lear,  leaminfif 

Laith,  loth 

Lamiter,  one  that  is  lam« 

Lance-spessade,  or  an- 
spessade,  an  inferior 
officer ;  a  picked  soldier 
of  the  company 

Landlaufer,  landlouper^ 
vagabond,  adventurer 

Lang-nebbit  things,  long- 
nosed  creatures  of  su- 
pernatural origin 

Lang  sheep,  sheep  with 
long  wool  ;  the  black- 
faced  breed  have  short 
wool 

Lanzknecht,  a  German 
mercenary  soldier 

Lap,  leaped 

Lave,  remainder,  the  rest 

Law''s  bank,  a  national 
bank  founded  at  Paris 
in  1718,  for  the  issue  of 
bank-notes,  by  John 
Law,  who  planned  the 
Mississippi  scheme 

Leaguer    lady,     loiSy     tk 


864 


WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 


female  camp-follower  or 
courtesan 

Led  farm,  farm  at  which 
the  tenant  does  not  re- 
side 

Leglin,  a  milk-pail 

Leif'Regimentt  Life 
Guards 

Leipsic.  Here,  or  rather 
at  Breitenfeld,  near 
Leipsic,  Gustavus  Adoi- 
phus  routed  Tilly  on  7th 
September  1631,  and  the 
Swedish  general  Tor- 
stenson  defeated  t^«* 
Imperialists  on  Sd  Nov- 
ember 1642 

Leslie,  Sir  LiidovicJc,  some- 
time governor  of  Ber- 
wick and  Tynmouth- 
Shields ;  he  fought  dur- 
ing the  CivU  War  in 
both  England  and  Scot- 
land 

Lesmahagow,  in  Smollett's 
Humphrey  Clinker 

Letters  to  the  Elect  Ladies. 
Possibly  Miss  Edge- 
worth's  Letters  for  Lit- 
erary Ladies  (1795>—  the 
dates  agree  well  enough 

Lift,  to  lift  up  the  coffin, 
as  a  signal  to  begin  the 
funeral  ceremonies 

Lifter,  cattle-stealer 

Linns  of  Campsie^  a  water- 
fall in  the  River  Tay  in 
Cargill.  Perthshire,  See 
a  note  to  Fair  Maid  of 
Perth 

Lippen,  to  trust  to 

Loaning,  a  lane  between 
stone  walls 

Lochaher  axe,  a  variety 
of  halbert,  with  a  long 
shaft,  surmounted  by  a 
bill-like  blade  backed  by 
a  large  hook 

Logice,  by  logic 

Loon,  a  fellow,  rascal, 
common  man 

Loup,  leap 

Louping-itt,  a  sort  of  par- 
alytic  disease  that  at- 
tacks sheep,  causing 
them  to  leap  up  and 
down  when  they  move 

low,  a  flame 

Loxodens,  the  Lothians, 
i.e.  the  counties  of  Edin- 
burgh, Haddington,  and 
Linlithgow 

Luck-penny,  a  small  sum 
returned  to  the  buyer  as 
luck  for  his  purchase 

Lug,  the  ear ;  a  handle 

humsdell.  Presumably 
Lumsden,  Colonel  Sir 
James,  sometime  gover- 
nor  of  Newcastle,  and 
major-general  in  the 
BootUsh  wan 


Lunt,  anything  used  for 
lighting  a  fire,  a  torch, 
match 

Lupton,  Daniel,  more  cor- 
rectly Donald  Lupton, 
his  book  being  A  War- 
like  Treatise  oj  the  Pike, 
London,  1642. 

Lutzen,  the  bloody  fight 
in  which  Gustavus  fell, 
after  defeating  Wallen- 
stein,  on  16th  November 
1632 

Lymmaris,  or  limmers, 
scoundrels 

Maclan,  a  sept  of  the  Mac- 
donalds 

Mackenzie,  Murdoch.  In 
Monro,  his  Expedition, 
pp.  75,  76,  the  names  are 

Srinted  Murdo  Mac- 
laude  (MacLeod)  and 
Allen  Tough 

Mains,  the  home  farm, 
farm  attached  to  the 
manor-house 

Mair  by  token^  besides,  es- 
pecially 

Mairflt,  more  speed 

Mammocks^  morsels,  frag- 
ments 

Marai,  the  sacred  in  clos- 
ures of  the  natives  of 
Otaheite  or  Tahiti 

Maravedi,  an  old  Spanish 
coin,  worth  less  than  a 
farthing 

March  dyke^  or  dike,  a 
boundary  wall 

March  of  Brandenburg, 
Brandenburg  (Prussia) 
was  for  a  long  time  a 
frontier  province 
(march)  of  the  German 
Empire 

Marriage,  a  novel  by  Miss 
Ferrier 

Maun,  must ;  mauna, 
must  not 

Mea  paupera  regna^  my 
poor  realms 

Meams,  an  old  name  for 
Kincardineshire 

Melder,  the  quantity  of 
meal  ground  at  the  mill 
at  one  time 

Merk,  Is.  l^d 

Mickle,  mv^kle,  much,  big 

Middenstead,  the  manure- 
heap,  dunghill 

Mim,  affectedly  modest, 
quiet 

Misken,  not  to  know 

Mislippen,  to  suspect 

Misset,  put  out,  perturb 

Mistryst,  to  alarm  ;  fail  to 
keep  an  appointment  or 
rendezvous 

Moor-ill,  a  disease  of 
black  cattle.  In  which  a 
virulent  blister  is  formed 


near  the    root  of    the 

tongue 
Moor-pouts,  young  moor- 
fowl 
Morning,  a  morning  dram 
Mort,  skin  of  a  sheep  or 
lamb   that  has  died  of 


Moss,  morass 

Moss-trooper,  a  Border 
raider 

Movit  Ajacem,  etc.,  Ajax, 
son  of  Telamon,  was 
subdued  by  the  beauty 
of  Tecmessa,  his  captive 
maid 

Neb,  nose 

Nerling,  must  be  Nord 
lingen,  where  on  27th 
August  1634  the  Swedish 
infantry  under  Bernhard 
of  Saxe-Weimar  and 
General  Horn  were  all 
but  annihilated  by  the 
Imperialists 

Neuk,  nook,  corner 

Nicker,  to  giggle,  laugh 
loudly 

Non  compos  Mentis,  In 
sane 

Non  eget  Mauris,  etc., 
Fuscus  needs  no  Moor- 
ish darts,  or  bow,  or 
quiver  filled  with  pois- 
oned arrows 

Nullum  vitce  genus,  etc.. 
there  is  no  baser  line  or 
life  than  theirs  who  sell 
their  swords  regardless 
of  the  cause 

Numidians.  See  Quivered 
Numidians 

Nuremberg,  the  murder- 
ous attempt  of  Gustavus 
to  storm  Wallenstein's 
entrenched  camp  near 
Nuremberg,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1632 


Old  Willie^  probably  Wil 
Ham  IIL 

O^Neale.    See  Sir  Phelim 

Onstead,  farm  building 
farmstead 

Opiferque  per  orbem 
dicor,  throughout  the 
world  I  am  esteemed  a 
helper 

Ouibye,  out  of  doors ;  out- 
bye  land,  outlying  parts 
of  a  farm 

Overcroxoded  and  slighted, 
dominated,  commanded 

Oiverbv,  a  little  way  off 

Owerfar  in,  too  intimate 

Panada,  bread  boiled  in 
water,  then  sweetened 
and  flavored 

Pa7idotir8,  irregular  Hun* 


GLOSbART 


366 


earian  light-armed  sol- 
diery  I 

flnnnonict,     the     Roman 
name  of  the  region  lying  : 
between     the     Danube 
and  the  Save 

Far  accidens,  incident- 
ally 

Parian,  a  crab 

Patienza!  patience 

Peel,  pele,  a  place  of 
strength,  a  Border  tower 
of  refuge 

Peengin,  whining 

Peghts,  the  name  given  by 
the  common  people  of 
Scotland  to  the  ancient 
Picts 

Peloton,  a  platoon,  a  small 
company  of  soldiers 
drawn  out  of  the  ranks 
for  8i)ecial  service 

Pen-gun,  a  penguin ;  to 
crack  like  a  pen-gun,  to 
be  very  loquacious 

Perdue,  in  concealment 

Peremptorie,  to  the  point 

Peruvians,  When  they 
first  saw  the  Spanish 
knights,  they  took  man 
and  horse  for  one  crea- 
ture 

Pinch,  an  iron  crowbar, 
lever 

Pipe-staple,  stalk  of  a 
tobacco  pipe 

Pit  put ;  pit  ower,  say 
over,  repeat 

Plack,  l-3d  penny  ;  plack 
and  bawbee,  every  penny 
of  it,  the  last  penny 

Pock-pudding,  a  Scotch- 
man's term  of  contempt 
for  an  Englishman 

Pow,  the  head 

Prince  Leo  of  Wittelsbach, 
a  member  of  the  dynasty 
or  house  that  still  rules 
over  Bavaria 

Provanty  the  regular  army 
rations 

Pu\  to  pull 

Puldrons,  or  pauldrons, 
separate  pieces  of  armor 
to  protect  the  shoulders 


QvKX  quoRstum  corporibus 
faciebant,  who  made 
gain  by  prostituting 
their  bodies 

Queich,  quaigh,  drinking- 
cup  made  of  staves 
hooi)ed  together 

Quivered  Numidians^  the 
Numidians  were  cele- 
brated archers 

Rae,  a  roe 

Rant,  merry-making 
Rasp-house,  house  of  de- 
tention, prison 


Rasselas,    Dr.    Johnson's , 

book 
Redd,  to  advise 
Rede,  advice,  counsel 
Red  icud,  stark  mad 
Reek,  smoke 
Reested,  smoke-dried 
Reifts,  robberies,  plunder- 

ings 
Reiver,  robber,  rover 
Riding  blood,  love  of  war 

or  fighting 
Rizpah    the   daughter  of 

Aiah,  the  concubine  of 

Saul 
Rizzered,  grilled,  dried  in 

the  sun 
Rood-day,  25th  September 
Rories,   that   is,  High- 
landers 

Sae,  so 

Sain,  to  bless 

Sair,  sore,  greatly  i 

Salvage,  savage,  uncivil-  I 
ized 

Santissima  Madre  di  Dios, 
Most  holy  Mother  of  God 

Sark,  battle  of,  where  in 
1448  the  Earls  of  Douglas 
and  Ormond  defeated 
the  English 

Sassenach,  Saxon,  that  is, 
a  Lowlander  or  English- 
man 

SavXie,  a  funeral  mute 

Scaur,  a  crag,  bluff 

Sclate,  slate 

Scomfish,  suffocate,  stifle 

Sconce,  a  detached  out- 
work, block-house 

Scouther,  a  scorching, 
toasting 

Scraugh,  screech,  shriek 

Seannachie,  a  Highland 
bard  or  genealogist 

Seviple,  common 

Seraglio,  the  palace  of  the 
Sultan  of  the  Turks 

Shamoy,  chamois 

Shaw,  the  woods 

Sheeling,  shieling,  a  High- 
land hut 

Sheeling  hill,  the  winnow- 
ing mound,  where  grain 
was  separated  from  the 
chaff  by  hand  in  the  open 
air 

Shelled,  covered  with 
shell ;  poured,  scattered 

Shelty,  a  very  small  horse 

Shielpeacods,  to  shell  peas 

Shoeing  •  horn,  anything 
that  allures,  encourages, 
helps 

Shoon,  shoes 

Sic,  siccan,  such 

Sidier,  a  soldier 

St  fas  sit  dicere,  if  it  be 
permissible  to  say  so 

Signifer,  a  standard- 
bearer,  ensign 


Sine   nomine   turba,    the 

nameless  (obscure) 

crowd 
Siiisyne,  since  then 
Sir    Fhelim    O'JSeale,   or 

O'Neil,  the  leader  of  the 

Irish  Rebellion  of  1641, 

when  Charles  I.  raised  a 

force  of  9000  wild  Irisb 

Papists  for  the  invasion 

of  Scotland 
Skaith,  scathe,  to   harm, 

injure;  injury,  damage, 

loss 
Skeel,  skill 
Skelping,  galloping,    rao 

ing 
Skinach,  a  man  of  Skye 
Skirling,  screaming 
Skreigh  o'  morning,  dawn, 

daybreak 
Sled,  a  wheel-less  cart 
Smeekit,  smoked  to  death 
Snapper,  to  stumble 
Soft  road,  a  road  through 

quagmires     and     bogs. 

Soft    weather     is    very 

rainy  weather 
Soldado,    mercenary     or 

professional  soldier 
Sooth  side  of  the  jest,  jest 

verging  too  close  on  the 

truth 
Sor 71  ing,  begging  with 

threats,  spunging  on 
Sort,  to  suit,  agree 
Spadille,  the  ace  of  spades 

in    Tombre    and     some 

other  card-games 
Sp anhe  im,  meant   for 

Spandau,  which  Qusta- 

vus  occupied  in  1631 
Speer,  to  inquire;   speer- 

ings,  tidings 
Splore,  a  noisy  frolic  or 

quarrel 
Spontoon,  or  half -pike,  the 

weapon  carried  by  corn- 
commissioned  officers 
Steek,  to  shut 
Steer,  to  molest,  touch 
Stell,  to  plant  or   mount 

cannon 
Stephen  Bathian,  or  Bath' 

ori,  waged  war  against 

Moscow  during  the  years 

1578-«2 
Stieve,  firm 

Stift,  bishopric,  bailiwick 
Stirk,  a  steer 
Stiver,  an  old  Dutch  coin 

worth  about  Id. 
Stocking,  farm  stock 
Stoop  and  roop,  utterly, 

root  and  branch 
Stooped,    swooped    down 

upon,  said  of  a  bird  of 

prey 
Storm-clock,  a  corruption 

of     stiirm  -  glocke,     as 

alarm-bell 
Stot,  a  bullock 


WAVEBLET  NOVELS 


9oun,  a  flagon,  Tessel  for 
holding  liquor 

Stouth,  thett ;  stouthnfe, 
robbery  with  violence 

StrapadOy  a  military  pun- 
ishment, in  which  the 
offender  was  drawn  to  a 
certain  height  and  sud> 
denly  let  tall,  the  jerk 
causing  great  pain 

Streek,  to  stretch 

Streight,  an  obsolete  form 
of  strait,  difficulty 

Succedaneum,  substitute 

Swatter,  to  move  quickly 
and  noisily  through 
water,  etc 

8wear^  reluctant,  unwill- 
ing 

Tarn  o*  Whittram,  pre- 
sumably a  descendant  of 
Old  Sim  of  Whittram,  a 
notable  Border  raider  of 
Elizabeth's  reign.  See 
Minstrelsy  of  the  Scot- 
tish Border,  vol.  1.  p.  394 

Tappit  hen,  a  pewter  meas- 
ure which  contained 
three  quarts  of  claret. 
See  Guy  Mannering, 
Note  9, 

Tarras,  a  stream  in  Dum- 
friesshire 

Tasker,  laborer  who  does 
piece  -  work,  generally 
the  threshing  of  corn 

Toss,  a  g'lass,  cup 

Tauaend  teiflen  !  (Teu/eln), 
thousand  devils  I 

Teaaues,  undisciplined 
Irishmen 

Teinedrum,  or  Tyndrum, 
in  the  parish  of  Killin, 
in  the  west  of  Perthshire 

Tent,  to  probe 

Tertia,  a  regiment 

Teterrima  catisa^  the  hid- 
eous cause 

Teugh,  tough 

Thane,  earl 

Thraw,  to  twist,  contra- 
dict ;  thrawn,  contra- 
dictory 

Thraws,  heads  and,  when 
the  feet  of  a  man  rest 
next  the  head  of  the  man 
who  lies  beside  him,  and 
so  on  alternately 

Threep,  to  maintain  stout- 
ly, assert 

Tiefenbach,  an  imperial 
general  who  commanded 


in  Bohemia  and  Silesia 
in  1631 

Tiernach,  chief,  the  laird 
or  squire 

Tinkler,  a  tinker 

Titties,  an  affectionate 
diminutive  for  sisters 

Tod,  bush ;  fox 

Tolbooth,  the  jail 

Tooni,  empty 

Tough,  Donald.  See  Mac- 
kenzie, Murdoch 

Toun,  the  farm-steading 
with  its  dependent 
houses 

Totir  de  passe,  trick  of 
legerdemain,  conjuring 

Tow,  rope 

Trailsund,  is  Stralsund, 
on  the  Baltic  coast  of 
Pomerania,  which,  in 
1688,  defied  all  the  ef- 
forts of  Wallenstein 

Trash'd,  jaded 

Treiosman,  a  clansman, 
Highlander 

Tuck,  beat 

Tuilzie,  scuffle,  skirmish 

Tup,  a  ram 

Turner,  Sir  James.  See  a 
note  to  Old  Mortality 

Turpes  personce,  base 
characters 

Twa,  twasome^  two 

Unce,  ounce 

Unco,  uncommon,  strange 

Un  veu  clairvoyant,  some- 
what observant 

Untenty,  inattentive,  awk- 
ward 

Upbye,  up  the  way,  up 
yonder 

Vpcome,  if  all  be  good 
that  is,  if  his  actions  an- 
swer expectations 

Uphaud,  maintain,  insist 

Usquebaugh,  whisky 

Velt-MarescJial  Bannier, 
the  celebrated  Swedish 
general,   Field  -  Marshal 

Vino     ciboque    gravatus, 

overcome  with  feasting 
Vivers,  victuals 
Vogv^  la  galire  I  let  come 

what  may  1 
Vole,  a  deal  at  cards  that 

draws  all  the  tricks 
Volte-face,  about  face 
Voto  a  DioSf  a  menacing 

oath 


Wad,  a  pledge ;  would 

Wadset,  mortgage,  bond 

Wae,  woe ;  sorry 

Walter  Butler,  the  man 
who  assassinated  the 
great  Wallenstein 

Wame,  belly,  stomach 

Ware,  to  spend 

Warlock,  wizard 

Water-saps,  bread  steeped 
in  water,  sops 

Wauken,  waken 

Waur,  warse,  worse 

Weary  fa\  a  curse  on— an 
imprecation 

Weird,  destiny 

Weize,  to  direct,  aim 

Werben,  near  the  Elbe  in 
Brandenburg  (Prussia). 
There  Gustavus  made  a 
fortified  camp,  which 
was  unsuccessfully  as- 
sailed by  Tilly  on  26th 
July  1631 

Whaup,  curlew 

Wheen,  a  few 

Whiddin''  back  andforrit, 
moving  quickly  back- 
wards and  forwards 

Whigamores,  a  con- 
temptuous name  for  the 
Presbyterians  in  the 
southwest  of  Scotland 

Whtnger,  a  hanger,  sword 

Win  at.  Through,  to  get 
at,  through 

Wolgast,  Castle  of,  on  the 
Baltic  coast  of  Pomer- 
ania, where  the  body  of 
Oustavus  Adolphus  lay 
embalmed  after  the  bat- 
tle of  Lutzen,  until  it 
was  taken  to  Sweden 

T^oo,  wool 

Wooden  mare,  a  wooden 
frame  on  which  soldiers 
were  made  to  ride  as  a 
punishment.  See  a  note 
to  Old  Mortality 

Worriecow,  hobgoblin 

Wowf,  crazed 

Wud,  mad 

Wuss,  to  wish 

Wyte,  blame 

Yaud,  an  old  mare 
Yett,&  gate 
Yowes,  ewes 

Z  oil  us,  a  grammarlam, 
noted  for  the  severity 
of  his  criticisms  upo» 
Homer 


INDEX 


AiwAPLK,  the  Elliots'  nurse,  46 
A-rmstrong,  Grace,  prepares  f«r  Rob- 
bie's return,  15  ;  capture  of,  and  res- 
toration, 66 
Author's     acquaintance     with     David 
Ritchie,  xvi,  xx 

Bauldie,  th3  shepherd,  1 

Black  Dwai-f .    See  Elshie 

Borderers,  in  Flanders,  47,  854 

Border  law,  4d 

Borders,  Jacocites  of,  81  ;  state  of  in 

Annes  reign,  5 
Broken-girth-flow,  Laird  of,  93 
Brouze.  or  wedding  race,  44,  854 
Brown  Man  of  the  Moors,  18 
Byng,  Sir  George,  355 

Chambers,  Robert,  his  account  of  David 
Ritchie,  xvii 

Chevalier  St.  George  threatened  inva- 
sion by,  96,  855 

Cleishbotham,  Jedediah,  his  introduc- 
tion, ix  ;  his  interpolations,  2,  353 

Cousins,  marriage  between,  16 

Dick  of  the  Dingle,  51,  64 
Drummelzier  Castle,  855 
Duergar,  Northern,  353 

Earnscliff,  joins  Hobbie  on  Muckle- 
stane  Moor,  8 ;  invites  Elshie  to  go 
home  with  him,  14 ;  goes  to  Heugh- 
foot,  16 ;  revisits  Elshie,  20 ;  conver- 
sation with  him,  26 ;  pursues  West- 
burnflat,  49 ;  rescues  Isabella  Vere, 
62 ;  conducts  her  back  to  her  father, 
84  ;  story  of  his  father's  death,  112  ;  his 
marriage,  133 

EUieslaw,  or  Mr.  Vere,  10  ;  walks  in  the 
grounds  with  Isabella,  75  ;  suffers  her 
to  be  carried  off,  77  ;  his  history,  78, 
128  ;  accuses  Earnscliflf  of  carrying  off 
Isabella,  84  ;  his  speech  at  the  dinner, 
93;  bids  defiance  to  Ratcliffe,  94; 
reads  the  warning  letter,  96 ;  his  re- 
flections on  his  position,  100 ;  bids 
Isabella  accept  Sir  F.  Langley,  101  ; 
his  confusion  before  Elshie,  124  ;  his 
letter  to  Isabella,  128 

EUieslaw  Castle,  meeting  of  Jacobites 
at,  81 ;  dinner  at,  89 ;  scene  in  the 
chapel,  121 

Elliot,  Harry,  Hobble's  brother,  66,  68 

Elliot,  Hobbie,  5 ;  benighted  on  Muckle- 
atane  Moor,  7 ;  discovers  Elshi>,  12 ; 


867 


his  dog  worries  the  goat,  42  ;  his  hocUK 
burnt,  46 ;  his  betrothed  carried  off, 
50,  66  ;  solicits  Elshie's  assistance,  53; 
attacks  the  Tower  of  Westburnflat, 
58  ;  his  blow  on  the  lintel,  63  ;  recovers 
Grace  Armstrong,  65  ;  accepts  Elshie 'a 
gold,  73 ;  in  EUieslaw  cnapel,  125 ; 
takes  charge  of  Elshie's  pets,  132 
Elliot,  John,  Hobble's  brother,  66,  68 
Elliot,  Mrs.,  the  grand-dame,  17,  49,  66 
Elshie,  the  Dwarf,  prototype  of,  xvl, 
353 ;  discovered  by  Hobbie,  12 ;  his 
interview  with  him  and  EarnsclifT,  13; 
building  his  cottage,  21,  22:  descrip- 
tion of  him,  22  ;  his  mysterious  com- 
rion,  24,71,  180;  his  misanthropy, 
gives  a  rose  to  Isabella  Vere,  32  ; 
his  interviews  with  Westburnflat,  38, 
44  ;  his  goat  worried,  42  ;  bids  West- 
burnflat restore  Grace.  45 ;  offers  gold 
to  Hobbie,  54 ;  his  history.  Ill ;  re^ 
ceives  Isabella,  115  ;  forbids  the  wed- 
ding, 124  ;  takes  leave  of  Isabella,  127; 
popular  legend  about,  134 

Fairies,  20 

Farmer,  the,  at  the  Wallace  Inn,  1 

Ferguson,  Dr.,  and  David  Ritchie,  xx, 

Friendship,  EUieslaw's  ideas  on,  76 

Gandercleugh,  ix,  144 

Grandmother,  the  EUiots'.    See  EUIot, 

Mrs. 
Green,  Captain,  93,  355 
Gray  geese  of  Mucklestane  Moor,  7 
Goat,  Elshie's,  death  of,  42 

Heughfoot,  Hobble's  home-coming  to, 

17  ;  burnt  by  Westburnflat,  47 
Hobbie,  Elliot.    See  Elliot,  Hobbie 
Hobble's  sisters,  17,  49,  65 
Hugh,  the  blacksmith,  51,  60 

Ilderton,  Miss,  her  fortune  told  by 
Elshie,  31  ;  teases  Isabella  Vere,  33 ; 
her  opinion  of  Sir  F.  Langley,  84 

Ilderton,  Nancy,  30,  34 

Invasion,  the  ChevaUer's  threatened,  96, 
355 

Jacobites,  rendezvous  of,  at  EUieslaw 
Castle,  81, 89  ;  threatened  invasion  by, 
855 

Jeddart  Justice,  45 


8C8 


INDEX 


KiLLBUCK,  Hobble's  deer-hound,  42,  53 
Kirkwhistle,  Episcopal  minister  of,  93 

Landlord  of  the  Wallace  Inn,  xi 

Langley,  Sir  Frederick,  Miss  Ilderton's 
opinion  of,  34 ;  his  behavior  when 
Isabella  was  carried  off,  80 ;  backs  out 
of  the  rising,  97  ;  demands  Isabella's 
hand,  98 ;  his  end,  133 

Lang  sheep,  3 

Leyden,  Dr.,  his  use  of  the  Black  Dwarf 
Legend,  353 

Lintel,  blow  on  the,  63,  354 

Luck-in-a-Bag,  89,  355 

Macpherson's  Rant,  355 

Mareschal  of  Mareschal  Wells,  81 ;  helps 
to  search  for  Isabella,  83 ;  laughs  at 
Ratcliffe's  admonitions,  87 ;  at  the 
dinner,  91  ;  produces  the  warning  let- 
ter, 96  ;  champions  Isabella,  99,  123  ; 

Mauley,  Sir  Edward,  126.    See  Elshie 

Mucklestane  Moor,  7 

Nihil  Nameless,  warning  letter  from,  96 

"No,  no,  no,"  34 

Nurses,  position  of,  in  Scotch  families,46 

Patten,  quoted,  355 
Pattieson,  Peter  or  Patrick,  xii 

Ratcliffe,  Mr.,  78 ;  his  relations  with 
Ellieslaw,  79  ;  admonishes  Mareschal, 
87 ;  at  the  dinner,  94  ;  advises  Isabella 
to  seek  Elshie,  107  ;  accompanies  her 
thither,  109  ;  relates  Elshie's  history, 
111  :  his  own  subsequent  history,  134 

Rawcastle,  John,  the  smuggler,  93 


Ritchie,  David,  prototype  of  the  BlaoK 
Dwarf,  zvi ;  his  reading,  353 

Short  sheep,  3 

Simon  of  Hackburn,  48,  51, 61 ;  offers  to 

be  Hobble's  second,  85 
Surtees,  his  version  of  the  Black  Dwarf 

legend,  353 

Tinner's  Holm,  62,  854 

Union  of  Scotland  and  England,  6 

Veitch  of  Dyock,  story  of,  855 
Vere,  Isabella,  passes  Elshie's  dwelling, 
30 ;  hears  Miss  Ilderton's  opinion  of 
Sir  F.  Langley,  34 ;  rescued  from 
Westburnflat,  62  ;  story  of  her  cap- 
ture, 77 ;  pursuit  of,  81,  83 ;  bidden 
accept  Sir  F.  Langley,  101  ;  consents 
to  do  so,  105  ;  advised  by  Ratcliffe, 
107  ;  rides  to  Mucklestane  Moor,  109  ; 
learns  Elshie's  history.  111 ;  visits 
Elshie,  115  ;  her  mother's  tomb,  122  ; 
her  marriage,  133 
Vere,  Mr.    See  Ellieslaw 

Wallace  Inn,  Qandercleugh,  xi 
Westburnflat,   56,  354  ;    tower  at,  66 ; 

assailed  by  the  Elliots,  58 
Westburnflat,  Willie  of,  37,  854 ;  inter- 
views with  Elshie,  38,  44  ;  ordered  to 
restore  Grace,  45  ;  his  stronghold  at- 
tacked, 58 ;  at  Ellieslaw  Castle,  98 ', 
his  later  history,  134 
Westburnflat's  mother,  59,  62 
Willieson,  William,  skipper,  96 


INDEX 


Allan.    See  M'Aulay 

Ambassador,  dangerous  office  of,  217 

*  And,  pausing,  on  the  banner  gazed,'  349 

Anderson.    See  Montrose 

Angus.    See  M'Aulay 

Annot.     See  Lyle,  Annot 

Apparitions,  Highland  belief  in,  359 

Ardenvohr.    See  Campbell,  Sir  Duncan 

Ardenvohr  Castle,  227,  229 

Ardvoirlich  Castle,  170 

Argyle,  Marquis  of  ('Jillespie  Grumach), 
poHtical  intluence  of,  150 ;  dislike  to, 
204 ;  his  court,  244  ;  description  of  his 
person,  245  ;  receives  Dalgetty,  246 ; 
orders  his  arrest,  249  ;  enters  the  dun- 
geon in  disguise.  254 ;  overpowered 
by  Dalgetty,  260;  takes  the  field 
against  Montrose,  301  ;  disposition  of 
forces  at  Inverlochy,  307  ;  seeks  shel- 
ter on  board  his  galley,  310 

Armies,  Scotch,  152,  1G6,  278,  281 

Author's  account  of  the  novel,  137 

Bagpipers,  rival,  204 

Baillie,  General,  301 

Baronial  espionage,  358 

Ben  Cruachan,  299 

Ben  Nevis,  307 

'  Birds  of  omen  dark  and  foul,*  198 

Bloodhounds,  tracking  with,  271 

Boswell's  Clan  Alpin's  Vow,  349 

Bows  and  arrows,  272,  289,  359 

Breadalbane,  invaded  by  Montrose,  299 

Burgesses,  at  Tippermuir,  281,  359 

Caledonian  Canal,  304 

Cameron,  Mllduy,  305 

Campbell,  Lady,  of  Ardenvohr,  234 ; 
sorrows  of,  236 

Campbell,  Sir  Duncan,  of  Ardenvohr, 
comes  to  Darnlinvarach,  213  ;  tries  to 
win  over  the  M'Aulays  and  Menteith, 
222 :  affected  by  the  sight  of  Annot 
Lyle,  225  ;  at  his  castle  of  Ardenvohr, 
227 ;  outrage  on  his  family  by  the 
Children  of  the  Mist.  252;  conducts 
Argyle  to  the  gallev.  310;  his  com- 
mand in  battle,  313  ;  his  last  stand, 
314  ;  cut  down  by  Ranald,  314  ;  learns 
that  Annot  is  his  child,  332 

Campbell,  Sir  Duncan,  of  Auchenbreck, 
303  ;  commands  at  Inverlochy,  307 ; 
death  of,  314 

Campbells,  clan,  204,  318 

Candlesticks,  wager  about,  176, 178 

Cary,  Sir  Robert,  cited,  358 


309 


Charles  I.,  his  peace  with  Scotland,  151 
Chiefs,  Highland,  meeting  of,  at  Darn- 
linvarach, 203  ;  patriarchal  power  of, 

Children  of  Diarmid,  204,  318 
Children  of  the  Mist,  outrage  on  the  lady 
of  Ardvoirhch,  1.38  ;    punishment  or, 
139 ;  their  feud  with  the  M'Aulays, 
185  ;  hunted  down  by  Allan,  190  ;  out- 
rage on  Campbell  of  Ardenvohr,  252  ; 
their  welcome    to  Ranald   and  Dal- 
getty, 271  ;  connection  with  the  Mac- 
Gregors,  138,  350 
Ciar  Mohr  MacGregor,  exculpated,  139 
Clan  Aljjin's  Vow  by  Boswell,  349 
Cleishbotham,  a  fictitious  personage. 
348  *--  6  1 

Colkitto,  181, 277 ;  Milton's  reference  tou 

277,358 
Convention  of  Estates,  Scottish,  150 
Court isanes  in  French  army,  SS6 
Covenant,  opposed  by  northern  nobil- 
ity, 149 

Dalgetty,  Captain,  of  Prestonpans,  144 
Dalgetty,  Dugald,  Author's  apology 
for,  140,  143  ;  description  and  account 
of  his  exploits,  156, 164 ;  his  views  as 
to  pay,  160, 168, 193 ;  care  for  Gustavus, 
171,  232  ;  thrust  down  to  lower  end  of 
table,  174  ;  his  veracity,  180  ;  engages 
himself  to  Montrose's  service,  194 ; 
promised  a  command  of  Irish,  167, 212; 
delegated  ambassador  to  Argyle,  217; 
refuses  to  part  with  Gustavus,  219 ; 
arrives  at  Ardenvohr.  227 ;  urges  the 
fortification  of  Drumsnab,  230,  232, 
235,  346  ;  reproved  for  loose  talk,  236  ? 
arrives  at  Inverary  Castle,  242 ;  re 
ceived  by  Argyle.  246  :  thrown  into  tht 
dungeon.  249;  discovers  Ranald,  250  ; 
seizes  Argyle.  260 ;  escape  through  the 
chapel,  265 ;  his  contempt  for  bows 
and  arrows,  272 ;  wounded  in  his 
flight,  275  ;  appears  before  Montrose, 
288  ;  almost  captures  Argyle,  301  :  ser- 
vice at  Inverlochy,  312  :  defends  Ra- 
nald, 315  ;  knighted  by  Montrose.  316; 
asks  Annot  to  see  Sir  Duncan  Camp 
bell's  wound,  329 ;  conveys  Ranald 
into  the  presence  of  Campbell  and 
Menteith,  .3:i1  :  lacks  a  bridal  garment, 
343  ;  subsequent  history,  347  ;  regains 
his  patrimonial  estate,  347 
Darnlinvarach  Castle,  170 ;  meeting  of 
Highland  chiefs  at,  208 


370 


INDEX 


Donald,  M'Auley'g  domestic,  171,  175 ; 
warns  Menteitn  not  to  address  Allan, 
173 

Drumraond-Ernoch,  slain  by  MacGreg- 
ors,  137 

Drummonds,  feud  with  Murrays,  137 

Drumsnab,  overlooking  Ardenvohr  Cas- 
tle, 230,  233,  235,  *16 

Drumthwacket,  Dalgetty's  patrimonial 
estate,  159  ;  evil  accounts  of,  ld4  ;  re- 
gained, 347 

Dunse  Law,  Covenanters  on,  218 

Dutch,  pattern  payers,  164, 194 

Edinburgh  Review,  quoted,  148 
Espionage,  baronial,  358 

Fatsides,  Father,  163 

'  Fides  et  fiducia  sunt  relativa,''  239,  858 

Fife  undertakers,  221,  357 

Gaelic  poem,  translation  of,  359 

'  Gaze  not  upon  the  stars,  fond  sage,  201 

Gibbet  at  Inverary,  242 

Gillespie  Grumach.    See  Argyle 

Grace  before  meat  too  long  for  Dal- 

getty,  235 
Grahame,  Rev.  Dr.,  of  Aberfoil,  189 
Graneangowl,  the  Rev.,  234 ;  reproves 
Dalgetty  at  Ardenvohr,  236  ;  preaches 
at Inverary,  265 
Grumach,  Gillespie.    See  Argyle 
Gustavus,  charger,  Dalgetty's  care  of, 
171,  232  ;  discussion  over  his  capabili- 
ties, 219 ;  parting  from  at  Inverary, 
243;  death  of ,  at  Inverlochy,  314  ;  des- 
tination of  his  hide,  321 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  Dalgetty's  descrip- 
tion of,  160 

Hall,  Sir  Christopher,  175 

Highland  army,  Dalgetty's  ideas  of,  166; 

inconvenience  of,  ^1 
Highland  chiefs,  meeting  of,  at  Darn- 

linvarach,  203  ;  patriarchal  power  of, 

249 
Highlanders,  political  opinions  of,  149  ; 

jealousies,  181,204;  military  qualities, 

§81 ;  behavior  in  a  hostile  country, 

802 ;  dread  of  cavalry,  813 
Historical  passages,  149,  206, 277,  285,  299 
Hoggil  nam  bo,  300.    See  Note  27,  p.  461, 

Waverley 
Horse,  Highlanders'  fear  of,  818 
Hurry,  or  Urrie,  Sir  John,  801 

Imperial  military  service,  161 
Independents  and  Presbyterians,  158 
Inverary,  242 

Inverlochy  Castle,  807 ;  battle  of,  812 
Irish.  Dalgetty's  opinion  of,  167 ;  service 

at  Inverlochy,  313 
•It's  a  far  cry  to  Lochow,*  847 

KxKXKTH.    See  MacEagh 

Kllpont,  Lord,  137.  851 

Kirk,  Rev.  Mr.,  of  Aberfoil,  on  second 

sight,  359 
Knight,  meaning  of,  817 

rhthood,  Dalgetty's  high  opinion  of, 


^! 


Leaguer  lasses,  836 

Legend  of  Montrose,  Author's  account 
of,  137 

Leny,  pass  of,  155 

Lewis,  island  of,  attempt  to  colonize, 
221,  357 

Loch  Fine,  241 

Loch  Tay,  299 

Lorimer,  Sir  Duncan's  servant,  289 

Lowlanders,  military  qualities  of,  278 

Loyalty's  Reward,  320 

Lyle,  AnnoU  181  ;  history  of,  190  ;  sings 
to  Allan  and  Menteith,  197  ;  the  ill- 
omened  gift,  201  ;  sings  before  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell,  223 ;  MacEagh's 
story  of  her  abstraction  from  Arden- 
vohr, 254 ;  as  nurse  after  the  battle, 
824;  interview  with  Allan  in  Inver- 
lochy Castle,  325 ;  declared  to  be  Sir 
Duncan  Campbell's  child,  333 ;  mar- 
riage with  Menteith,  346 

M'Alpin,  Janet,  144 

M'Alpin,  Sergeant,  144,  settles  at  Gan- 
dercleugh,  146 

M'Aulay,  Allan,  173 ;  forces  Anderson 
and  Dalgetty  to  change  places,  174  ; 
his  birth,  187  ;  his  exploits  against  the 
Children  of  the  Mist,  189  ;  brings  the 
head  of  Hector,  190 ;  his  evil  predic- 
tions of  the  campaign,  196  ;  the  mist 
passeth  from  his  spirit,  199 ;  the  ill- 
omened  gift  to  Annot,  201  ;  predicts 
Menteith's  death,  202  ;  gives  his  hand 
to  Ranald  MacEagh,  296 ;  cuts  him 
down  at  Inverlochy,  315  ;  sent  to  Sea- 
forth,  317  ;  interview  with  Annot  Lyle 
at  Inverlochy  Castle,  325 ;  stabs  Men- 
teith, 345  ;  end  of,  uncertain,  345 

M'Aulay.  Angus  of  Darlinvarach,  177, 
182 ;  assigns  quarters  to  the  Chiefs, 
195 ;  offers  to  buy  Gustavus,  219 ; 
dismisses  Sir  Duncan,  226  ;  his  resent- 
ment at  Annot's  and  Menteith's  en- 
gagement, 243 

M'Donald,  Andrew,  227,  360 

Macdonald  of  Keppoch,  179 

M'Donnell.    See  Colkitto 

M'Donald  of  Glengarry,  195 

MacEagh,  Kenneth,  Ranald's  grandson, 
254  ;  made  Dalgetty's  attendant,  295 ; 
receives  Ranald's  dying  injunctions, 
335  ;  supposed  slayer  of  Allan,  346 

MacEagh,  Ranald,  in  Inverary  dun- 
geon, 250 ;  tells  of  his  vengeance  on 
Campbell  of  Ardenvohr,  252 ;  aids 
Dalgetty  to  escape,  262 ;  guides  Dal- 
getty, 269 ;  defends  the  pass,  274 ; 
appears  before  Montrose,  288 ;  intro- 
duced to  Allan  M'Aulay,  296  ;  guides 
Montrose's  army,  291,  800  ;  cuts  down 
Sir  Duncan  Campbell,  814 ;  mortally 
wounded  by  Allan,  315 ;  declares  the 
parentage  of  Annot  Lyle,  883;  his 
dying  injunctions  to  his  grandson, 
835  ;  addresses  the  Spirit  of  the  Mist ; 
837 

M'Farlane's  march.  800 

MacGregors  and  the  Children  of  the 
Mist,  138 

M'llduy,  Cameron,  805 

Mariscbal  College  of  Aberdeen,  150, 180 


WdVEBLEY  :S0VEL8 


371 


Mass,  Dalgetty's  scruples  about,  163 

Menteith,  Earl,  meeting  with  Dalgetty, 
156 ;  relates  the  history  of  Allan 
M'Aulay,  184  ;  attentions  to  Annot  and 
jealousy  of  Allan,  200  ;  his  death  pre- 
dicted by  Allan  202 ;  address  to  the 
assembled  Chiefs,  205;  wounded  at 
Inverlochy,  319 ;  Montrose's  advice 
about  Annot  Lyle,  323 ;  investigates 
Ranald's  story,  334  ;  is  accepted  as 
Annot's  bridegroom,  339  ;  stabbed  by 
Allan,  354  ;  subsequent  history,  346 

Mercenary  soldiers,  159,  172 

Milton,  quoted,  358 

Mist,  Children  of.  See  Children  of  the 
Mist 

Monro,  Colonel,  of  the  Scots  Regiment, 
141 

Montrose,  Marquis  of,  as  Menteith's 
man-servant,  168 ;  rinses  the  stoup, 
171 ;  taken  to  the  upper  seat  by  Allan, 
174 ;  refuses  to  undo  Dalgetty's  ar- 
mor, 184 ;  discovers  himself  to  the 
Chiefs,  208  ;  description  of  his  person, 
211  ;  receives  Sir  Duncan  Campbell, 
214 ;  victory  at  Tippermuir,  281  ;  his 
tactics,  283 ;  visit  of  Dalgetty  and 
MacEagh,  288  ;  leads  his  army  against 
Argyle,  299  ;  roused  by  Cameron  Mll- 
duy,  305  ;  victory  at  Inverlochy,  314  ; 
separates  Allan  and  Dalgetty,  316  ; 
knights  Dalgetty,  316;  advises  Men- 
teith about  Annot  Lyle,  323;  ac- 
quaints Angus  with  the  engagement 
between  Annot  and  Menteitn,  841 

Morgenstern,  175,  357 

Murrays,  feud  with  the  Drummonds,  137 

Musgrave,  Sir  Miles,  175 ;  ofifers  to  buy 
Gustavus,  219 

Nature,  wildness  of,  299 

Nobility,    northern,    opposed    to    the 

League  and  Covenant,  149 
'November's  hail-cloud   drifts  away,' 


O'QuiLLiGAN,  quarrel  with  Dalgetty,  162 

Parliament,  English,  151 
Parolsa  of  honour,  241, 358 


Pay,  Dalgetty's  ideas  of,  160,  168,  194 
Police  system  in  Scotland  in  1589,  350 
Presbyterians,  Scottish,  152 

Scotch  armies,  152,  166,  278,  281 

Scotch  Convention  of  Estates,  150 

Scotland,  condition  of  at  time  of  tale, 
149,  154 

Seaforth,  Earl  of,  302 

Second  sight,  191  ;  Allan  and  Ranald 
confer  on,  297;  supposed  failure  of, 
346  ;  cases  of,  cited,  359 

Sergeant  M'Alpin.  See  M'Alpin,  Ser- 
geant 

Sibbald,  Lord  Menteith's  domestic,  171, 
183;  reports  the  estate  of  Di-um- 
thwacket.  194 

Soldiers  of  fortune,  159, 172 

Spanish  military  service,  162 

Spirit  of  the  Mist,  337 

Stewart,  James,  of  Ardvoirlich,  139; 
assassinates  Lord  Kilpont,  140;  an- 
other account.  351 

Strath  Earn,  assembly  of  Montrose's 
army  at,  27i8 

Strath  Fillan,  300 

Swedish  feathers,  161 

Swedish  military  service,  169 

The  Orphan  Maid,  song,  SJ24 
Tippermuir,  field  of,  280 
Torches  at  Darnlinvarach,  179 
Translation  from  the  Gaelic,  357 
Turner,   Sir  James,   141 ;  his  Memoirs 
quoted,  142,  358 

Urrie,  or  Hurry,  Sir  John,  8ul 

Vane,  Sir  Henry,  the  commissioner,  158 
Vich  Alister  More,  195,  208 

Wager  about  the  candlesticks,  176,  178 
Wallenstein,  Dalgetty's   service  with, 

161 
Watchwords  of  party,  165 
'  Wert  thou  like  me,  in  life's  lo\r  'ale,' 

827 
'  When  the  cannons  are  ro*riiic«*  S43 
I  Wraiths,  858 


IHE  SUEGEON'S  DAUGHTER 


INTRODUCTION 


The  tale  of  The  Surgeon*s  Daughter  formed  part  of  the  Sec- 
ond [First]  Series  of  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  published 
in  1827  ;  but  has  been  separated  from  the  stories  of  Tlie 
Highland  Widoto,  etc.,  which  it  orginally  accompanied,  and 
deferred  to  the  close  of  the  collection^  for  reasons  which 
printers  and  publishers  will  understand,  and  which  would 
nardly  interest  the  general  reader. 

The  Author  has  nothing  to  say  now  in  reference  to  this 
little  novel,  but  that  the  principal  incident  on  which  it  turns 
was  narrated  to  him  one  morning  at  breakfast  by  his  worthy 
friend,  Mr.  Train,  of  Gastle  Douglas,  in  Galloway,  whose 
kind  assistance  he  has  so  often  had  occasion  to  acknowledge 
in  the  course  of  these  prefaces  ;  and  that  the  military  friend 
who  is  alluded  to  as  having  furnished  him  with  some  informa- 
tion as  to  Eastern  matters  was  Colonel  James  Ferguson  of 
Huntly  Burn,  one  of  the  sons  of  the  venerable  historian  and 
philosopher  of  that  name,  which  name  he  took  the  liberty 
of  concealing  under  its  Gaelic  form  of  MacErries. 

W.  S. 
Abbotsfobd,  Sepl,  1881. 


A  ,■/> 


»A<<&j.        ,^-H^  ;M/'' J  i-r^Jl^jfiu. 


ME.  CR0FTANGRy*8  PREFAOB 

Indite,  my  mnse,  indite, 

Subpcena'd  is  thy  lyre, 
Thepraifjes  to  requite 

Woicb  rules  or  court  require. 

Probationary  Odes, 

The  concluding  a  literary  undertaking,  in  whole  or  in  part, 
is,  to  the  inexperienced  at  least,  attended  with  an  irritating 
titillation,  like  that  which  attends  on  the  healing  of  a  wound 
— a  prurient  impatience,  in  short,  to  know  what  the  world 
in  general,  and  friends  in  particular,  will  say  to  our  labors. 
Some  authors,  I  am  told,  profess  an  oyster-like  indifference 
upon  this  subject ;  for  my  own  part,  I  hardly  believe  in 
their  sincerity.  Others  may  acquire  it  from  habit ;  but  in 
my  poor  opinion  a  neophyte  like  myself  must  be  for  a  long 
time  incapable  of  such  sangfroid. 

Frankly,  I  was  ashamed  to  feel  how  childishly  I  felt  on 
the  occasion.  No  person  could  have  said  prettier  things 
than  myself  upon  the  importance  of  stoicism  concerning  the 
opinion  of  others,  when  their  applause  or  censure  refers  to 
literary  character  only ;  and  I  had  determined  to  lay  mv 
work  before  the  public  with  the  same  unconcern  with  which 
the  ostrich  lays  her  eggs  in  the  sand,  giving  herself  no 
farther  trouble  concerning  the  incubation,  but  leaving  to 
the  atmosphere  to  bring  forth  the  young,  or  otherwise,  as 
the  climate  shall  serve.  But,  though  an  ostrich  in  theory, 
I  became  in  practise  a  poor  hen,  who  has  no  sooner  made 
her  deposit  but  she  runs  cackling  about,  to  call  the  atten- 
tion of  every  one  to  the  wonderful  work  which  she  has  per- 
formed. 

As  soon  as  I  became  possessed  of  my  first  volume,  neatly 
stitched  up  and  boarded,  my  sense  of  the  necessity  of  com- 
municating with  some  one  became  ungovernable.  Janet  was 
inexorable,  and  seemed  already  to  have  tired  of  my  literary 
confidence ;  for  whenever  I  drew  near  the  subject,  after 
evading  it  as  long  as  she  could,  she  made,  under  some  pre- 


vl  WAVER  LEY  NOVELS 

text  or  other,  a  bodily  retreat  to  the  kitchen  or  the  cock- 
loft, her  own  peculiar  and  inviolate  domains.  My  publisher 
would  have  been  a  natural  resource ;  but  he  understands 
his  business  too  well,  and  follows  it  too  closely,  to  desire  to 
enter  into  literary  discussions,  wisely  considering  that  he 
who  has  to  sell  books  has  seldom  leisure  to  read  them.  Then 
my  acquaintance,  now  that  I  have  lost  Mrs.  Bethune  Baliol, 
are  of  that  distant  and  accidental  kind  to  whom  I  had  not 
face  enough  to  communicate  the  nature  of  my  uneasiness, 
and  who  probably  would  only  have  laughed  at  me  had  1 
made  any  attempt  to  interest  them  in  my  labors. 

Reduced  thus  to  a  sort  of  despair,  I  thought  of  my  friend 
and  man  of  business,  Mr.  Fairscribe.  His  habits,  it  was 
true,  were  not  likely  to  render  him  indulgent  to  light  litera- 
ture, and,  indeed,  1  had  more  than  once  noticed  his  daugh- 
ters, and  especially  my  little  songstress,  whip  into  her  reti- 
cule what  looked  very  like  a  circulating  library  volume,  as 
soon  as  her  father  entered  the  room.  Still,  he  was  not  only 
my  assured,  but  almost  my  only,  friend,  and  I  had  little 
doubt  that  he  would  take  an  interest  in  the  volume  for  the 
sake  of  the  author  which  the  work  itself  might  fail  to  in- 
spire. I  sent  him,  therefore,  the  book,  carefully  sealed  up, 
with  an  intimation  that  I  requested  the  favor  of  his  opinion 
upon  the  contents,  of  which  I  affected  to  talk  in  the  depre- 
ciatory style  which  calls  for  point-blank  contradiction,  if 
your  correspondent  possess  a  grain  of  civility. 

This  communication  took  place  on  a  Monday,  and  I  daily 
expected  (what  I  was  ashamed  to  anticipate  by  volunteering 
my  presence,  however  sure  of  a  welcome)  an  invitation  to 
eat  an  egg,  as  was  my  friend's  favorite  phrase,  or  a  card  to 
drink  tea  with  Misses  Fairscribe,  or  a  provocation  to  break- 
fast, at  least,  with  my  hospitable  friend  and  benefactor,  and 
to  talk  over  the  contents  of  my  enclosure.  But  the  hours 
and  days  passed  on  from  Monday  till  Saturday,  and  I  had  no 
acknowledgment  whatever  that  my  packet  had  reached  its 
destination.  "  This  is  very  unlike  my  good  friend's  punctu- 
ality," thought  I ;  and  having  again  and  again  vexed  James, 
my  male  attendant,  by  a  close  examination  concerning  the 
time,  place,  and  delivery,  I  had  only  to  strain  my  imagina- 
tion to  conceive  reasons  for  my  friend's  silence.  Sometimes 
I  thought  that  his  opinion  of  the  work  had  proved  so  unfa- 
vorable, that  he  was  averse  to  hurt  my  feelings  by  communi- 
cating it ;  sometimes  that,  escaping  his  hands  to  whom  it 
was  destined,  it -had  found  its  way  into  his  writing-chamber, 
and  was  become  the  subject  of  criticism  to  his  smart  clerks 


PREFATORY  iVL 

and  conceited  apprentices.     '''Sdeath!*'  thought  I,  "if  I 

were  sure  of  this,  1  would " 

**  And  what  would  you  do  ? "  said  Reason,  after  a  few 
moments'  reflection.  ''You  are  ambitious  of  introducing 
your  book  into  every  writing  and  reading  chamber  in  Edin- 
burgh, and  yet  you  take  fire  at  the  thoughts  of  its  being  criti- 
cised by  Mr.  Fairscribe's  young  people  ?  Be  a  little  consist- 
ent, for  shame. "" 

"  I  will  be  consistent,'' said  I,  doggedly ;  "but  for  all  that, 
I  will  call  on  Mr.  Fairscribe  this  evening." 

I  hastened  my  dinner,  donned  my  greatcoat,  for  the  even- 
ing threatened  rain,  and  went  to  Mr.  Fairscribe's  house. 
The  old  domestic  opened  the  door  cautiously,  and  before  I 
asked  the  question,  said,  ''Mr.  Fairscribe  is  at  home,  sir;  but 
it  is  Sunday  night."  Recognizing,  however,  my  face  and 
voice,  he  opened  the  door  wider,  admitted  me,  and  conducted 
me  to  the  parlor,  where  I  found  Mr.  Fairscribe  and  the  rest 
of  his  family  engaged  in  listening  to  a  sermon  by  the  late 
Mr.  Walker  of  Edinburgh,*  which  was  read  by  Miss  Catherine 
with  unusual  distinctness,  simplicity,  and  judgment.  Wel- 
comed as  a  friend  of  the  house,  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  to 
take  my  seat  quietly,  and,  making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  en- 
deavor to  derive  my  share  of  the  benefit  arising  from  an 
excellent  sermon.  But  I  am  afraid  Mr.  Walker^s  force  of 
logic  and  precision  of  expression  were  somewhat  lost  upon 
me.  I  was  sensible  I  had  chosen  an  improper  time  to  disturb 
Mr.  Fairscribe,  and  when  the  discourse  was  ended  I  rose 
to  take  my  leave,  somewhat  hastily,  I  believe.  "  A  cup  of 
tea,  Mr.  Crof  tangry  ?  *'  said  the  young  lady.  "You  will 
wait  and  take  part  of  a  Presbyterian  supper  ?  '*  said  Mr. 
Fairscribe.  "  Nine  o'clock — I  make  it  a  point  of  keeping 
my  father's  hours  on  Sunday  at  e'en.  Perhaps  Dr. (nam- 
ing an  excellent  clergyman)  may^  look  in." 

I  made  my  apology  for  declining  his  invitation  ;  and  I 
fancy  my  unexpected  appearance  and  hasty  retreat  had  rather 
surprised  my  friend,  since,  instead  of  accompanying  me  to 
the  door,  he  conducted  me  into  his  own  apartment. 

"  What  is  the  matter,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Croftangry  ?  This 
is  not  a  night  for  secular  business,  but  if  anything  sudden 
or  extraordinary  has  happened " 

"  Nothing  in  the  world,"  said  I,  forcing  myself  upon  con- 
fession, as  the  best  way  of  clearing  myself  out  of  the  scrape  ; 
"only — only  I  sent  you  a  little  parcel,  and  as  you  are  so  regular 

*  Robert  Walker  [1754-83] ,  the  colleague  and  rival  of  Dr.  Hugh 
Blair  [1758-1800],  in  St.  Giles's  Church,  Edinburgh  (Laing). 


vm  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  acknowledging  letters  and  communications,  I — I  thought 
it  might  have  miscarried — that's  all/' 

My  friend  laughed  heartily,  as  if  he  saw  into  and  enjoyed 
my  motives  and  my  confusion.  *'  Safe !  It  came  safe 
enough/'  he  said.  *'  The  wind  of  the  world  always  blows 
its  vanities  into  haven.  But  this  is  the  end  of  the  session, 
when  I  have  little  time  to  read  anything  printed  except 
Inner  House  papers  ;  yet  if  you  will  take  your  kail  with  us 
next  Saturday,  I  will  glance  over  your  work,  though  I  am 
sure  I  am  no  competent  judge  of  such  matters.'' 

With  this  promise  I  was  fain  to  take  my  leave,  not  without 
half  persuading  myself  that,  if  once  the  phlegmatic  lawyer 
began  my  lucubrations,  he  would  not  be  able  to  rise  from 
them  till  he  had  finished  the  perusal,  nor  to  endure  an 
interval  betwixt  his  reading  the  last  page  and  requesting  an 
Interview  with  the  author. 

No  such  marks  of  impatience  displayed  themselves.  Time, 
blunt  or  keen,  as  my  friend  Joanna  says,  swift  or  leisurely, 
held  his  course  ;  and  on  the  appointed  Saturday  I  was  at  the 
door  precisely  as  it  struck  four.  The  dinner  hour,  indeed, 
was  five  punctually,  but  what  did  I  know  but  my  friend 
might  want  half  an  hour's  conversation  with  me  before  that 
time  ?  I  was  ushered  into  an  empty  drawing-room,  and, 
from  a  needle-book  and  work-basket,  hastily  abandoned,  I 
had  some  reason  to  think  I  interrupted  my  little  friend.  Miss 
Katie,  in  some  domestic  labor  more  praiseworthy  than  ele- 
gant. In  this  critical  age  filial  piety  must  hide  herself  in  a 
closet  if  she  has  a  mind  to  darn  her  father's  linen. 

Shortly  after  I  was  the  more  fully  convinced  that  I  had 
been  too  early  an  intruder,  when  a  wench  came  to  fetch  away 
the  basket,  and  recommended  to  my  courtesies  a  red  and 
green  gentleman  in  a  cage,  who  answered  all  my  advances  by 
croaking  out,  ''  You're  a  fool — you're  a  fool,  I  tell  you  ! " 
until,  upon  my  word,  I  began  to  think  the  creature  was 
in  the  right.  At  last  my  friend  arrived  a  little  overheated. 
He  had  been  taking  a  turn  at  golf  to  prepare  him  for  '*  collo- 
quy sublime."  And  wherefore  not,  since  the  game,  with  its 
variety  of  odds,  lengths,  bunkers,  tee'd  balls,  and  so  on,  may 
be  no  inadequate  representation  of  the  hazards  attending  liter- 
ary pursuits  ?  In  particular,  those  formidable  buffets  which 
make  one  ball  spin  through  the  air  like  a  rifle-shot,  and 
strike  another  down  into  the  very  earth  it  is  placed  upon,  by 
the  maladroitness  or  the  malicious  purpose  of  the  player — 
what  are  they  but  parallels  to  the  favorable  or  depreciating 
notices  of  the  reviewers,  who  play  at  golf  with  the  publica- 


PREFATORY  Ix 

tions  of  the  season,  even  as  Altisidora,  in  her  approach  to 
the  gates  of  the  infernal  regions,  saw  the  devils  playing  at 
racket  with  the  new  books  of  Cervantes's  days. 

Well,  every  hour  has  its  end.  Five  o^clock  came,  and  my 
friend,  with  his  daughters  and  his  handsome  young  son, 
who,  though  fairly  buckled  to  the  desk,  is  every  now  and 
then  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  a  smart  uniform,  set  seri- 
ously about  satisfying  the  corporeal  wants  of  nature  ;  while 
I,  stimulated  by  a  nobler  appetite  after  fame,  wished  that 
the  touch  of  a  magic  wand  could,  without  all  the  ceremony 
of  picking  and  choosing,  carving  and  slicing,  masticating 
and  swallowing,  have  transported  a  quantum  sufficit  of  the 
good  things  on  my  friend's  hospitable  board  into  the 
stomachs  of  those  who  surrounded  it,  to  be  there  at  leisure 
converted  into  chyle,  while  their  thoughts  were  turned  on 
higher  matters.  At  length  all  was  over.  But  the  young 
ladies  sat  still  and  talked  of  the  music  of  Tlie  Freischutz, 
for  nothing  else  was  then  thought  of  :  so  we  discussed  the 
wild  hunters'  song,  and  the  tame  hunters'  song,  etc.,  etc., 
in  all  which  my  young  friends  were  quite  at  home.  Luckily 
for  me,  all  this  horning  and  whooping  drew  on  some  allusion 
to  the  Seventh  Hussars,  which  gallant  regiment,  I  observe, 
is  a  more  favorite  theme  with  both  Miss  Catherine  and  her 
brother  than  with  my  old  friend,  who  presently  looked  at 
his  watch,  and  said  something  significantly  to  Mr.  James 
about  office  hours.  The  youth  got  up  with  the  ease  of  a 
youngster  that  would  be  thought  a  man  of  fashion  rather 
than  of  business,  and  endeavored,  with  some  success,  to 
walk  out  of  the  room  as  if  the  locomotion  was  entirely  vol- 
untary ;  Miss  Catherine  and  her  sisters  left  us  at  the  same 
time,  and  now,  thought  I,  my  trial  comes  on. 

Header,  did  you  ever,  in  the  course  of  your  life,  cheat  the 
courts  of  justice  and  lawyers  by  agreeing  to  refer  a  dubious 
and  important  question  to  the  decision  of  a  mutual  friend  ? 
If  so,  you  may  have  remarked  the  relative  change  which  the 
arbiter  undergoes  in  your  estimation,  when  raised,  though 
by  your  own  free  choice,  from  an  ordinary  acquaintance, 
whose  opinions  were  of  as  little  consequence  to  you  as  yours 
to  him,  into  a  superior  personage,  on  whose  decision  your 
fate  must  depend  pro  tanto,  as  my  friend  Mr.  Fairscribe 
would  say.  His  looks  assume  a  mysterious,  if  not  a  mina- 
tory, expression  ;  his  hat  has  a  loftier  air,  and  his  wig,  if  he 
wears  one,  a  more  formidable  buckle. 

I  felt,  accordingly,  that  my  good  friend  Fairscribe,  on  the 
present  occasion,  had  acquired  something  of  a  similar  in- 


X  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

crease  of  conseqaence.  But  a  week  since,  he  had,  in  my 
opinion,  been  indeed  an  excellent-meaning  man,  perfectly 
competent  to  everything  within  his  own  profession,  but  im- 
mured at  the  same  time  among  its  forms  and  technicalities, 
and  as  incapable  of  judging  of  matters  of  taste  as  any  mighty 
Goth  whatsoever  of  or  belonging  to  the  ancient  Senate 
House  of  Scotland.  But  what  of  that  ?  I  had  made  him 
my  judge  by  my  own  election ;  and  I  have  often  observed 
that  an  idea  of  declining  such  a  reference  on  account  of  his 
own  consciousness  of  incompetency  is,  as  it  perhaps  ought 
to  be,  the  last  which  occurs  to  the  referee  himself.  He  that 
has  a  literary  work  subjected  to  his  judgment  by  the  author 
immediately  throws  his  mind  into  a  critical  attitude,  though 
the  subject  be  one  which  he  never  before  thought  of.  No 
doubt  the  author  is  well  qualified  to  select  his  own  judge, 
and  why  should  the  arbiter  whom  he  has  chosen  doubt  his 
own  talents  for  condemnation  or  acquittal,  since  he  has  been 
doubtless  picked  out  by  his  friend  from  his  indubitable  reli- 
ance on  their  competence  ?  Surely  the  man  who  wrote  the 
production  is  likely  to  know  the  person  best  qualified  to 
judge  of  it. 

Whilst  these  thoughts  crossed  my  brain,  I  kept  my  eyes 
fixed  on  my  good  friend,  whose  motions  appeared  unusually 
tardy  to  me,  while  he  ordered  a  bottle  of  particular  claret, 
decanted  it  with  scrupulous  accuracy  with  his  own  hand, 
caused  his  old  domestic  to  bring  a  saucer  of  olives,  and  chips 
of  toasted  bread,  and  thus,  on  hospitable  thoughts  intent, 
seemed  to  me  to  adjourn  the  discussion  which  I  longed  to 
bring  on,  yet  feared  to  precipitate. 

"  He  is  dissatisfied,*'  thought  I,  "and  is  ashamed  to sho\* 
it — afraid,  doubtless,  of  hurting  my  feelings.     What  had  1 
to  do  to  talk  to  him  about  anything  save  charters  and  sas 
ines  ?    Stay,  he  is  going  to  begin." 

"  We  are  old  fellows  now,  Mr.  Croftangry,**  said  my  land- 
lord ;  "  scarcely  so  fit  to  take  a  poor  quart  of  claret  between 
us  as  we  would  have  been  in  better  days  to  take  a  pint,  in 
the  old  Scottish  liberal  acceptation  of  the  phrase.  Maybr* 
you  would  have  liked  me  to  have  kept  James  to  help  us. 
But  if  it  is  not  on  a  holyday  or  so,  I  think  it  is  best  he 
should  observe  office  hours." 

Here  the  discourse  was  about  to  fall.  I  relieved  it  by  say- 
ing, Mr.  James  was  at  the  happy  time  of  life  when  he  had 
better  things  to  do  than  to  sit  over  the  bottle.  *'  I  suppose," 
laid  I,  "your  son  is  a  reader." 

'*  tJm — ^yes — James  may  be  called  a  reader  in  a  sense  ;  but 


PREFATORY  xl 

I  doubt  there  is  little  solid  in  his  studies — poetry  and  plays, 
Mr.  Oroftangry,  all  nonsense  ;  they  set  his  head  a-gadding 
after  the  army,  when  he  should  be  minding  his  business/' 

'*  I  suppose,  then,  that  romances  do  not  find  much  more 
grace  in  your  eyes  than  dramatic  and  poetical  compositions  ?  " 

"Deil  a  bit — deil  a  bit,  Mr.  Oroftangry,  nor  historical 
productions  either.  There  is  too  much  fighting  in  history, 
as  if  men  only  were  brought  into  this  world  to  send  one  an- 
other out  of  it.  It  nourishes  false  notions  of  our  being,  and 
chief  and  proper  end,  Mr.  Oroftangry." 

Still  all  this  was  general,  and  I  became  determined  to 
bring  our  discourse  to  a  focus.  "  I  am  afraid,  then,  I  have 
done  very  ill  to  trouble  you  with  my  idle  manuscripts,  Mr. 
Fairscribe  ;  but  you  must  do  me  the  justice  to  remember 
that  I  had  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  amuse  myself  by 
writing  the  sheets  I  put  into  your  hands  the  other  day.  I 
may  truly  plead — 

I  left  no  calling  for  this  idle  trade.** 

"  I  cry  your  mercy,  Mr.  Oroftangry,*'  said  my  old  friend, 
suddenly  recollecting  ;  '^  yes — yes,  I  have  been  very  rude  ; 
but  I  had  forgotten  entirely  that  you  had  taken  a  spell  your- 
self at  that  idle  man's  trade." 

'*  I  suppose,"  replied  I,  *'  you,  on  your  side,  have  been  too 
busy  a  man  to  look  at  my  poor  Chronicles?" 

''No — no,"  said  my  friend,  ''I  am  not  so  bad  as  that 
neither.  I  have  read  them  bit  by  bit,  just  as  I  could  get  a 
moment's  time,  and  I  believe  I  shall  very  soon  get  through 
them." 

*'  Well,  my  good  friend  ?"  said  I,  interrogatively. 

And  ** TVell,  Mr.  Oroftangry,"  cried  he,  "I  really  think 
you  have  got  over  the  ground  very  tolerably  well.  I  have 
noted  down  here  two  or  three  bits  of  things,  which  I  pre- 
sume to  be  errors  of  the  press,  otherwise  it  might  be  alleged, 
perhaps,  that  you  did  not  fully  pay  that  attention  to  the 
grammatical  rules  which  one  would  desire  to  see  rigidly 
observed." 

I  looked  at  my  friend's  notes,  which,  in  fact,  showed  that, 
in  one  or  two  grossly  obvious  passages,  I  had  left  uncor- 
rected such  solecisms  in  grammar. 

"  Well — well,  I  own  my  fault ;  but,  setting  apart  these 
casual  errors,  how  do  you  like  the  matter  and  the  manner  of 
what  I  have  been  writing,  Mr.  Fairscribe  ?  " 

*'  Why,"  said  my  friend,  pausing,  with  more  grave  and 
important  hesitation  than  I  thanked  him  for,  "  there  is  not 


xU  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

much  to  be  said  against  the  manner.  The  style  is  terse  and 
intelligible,  Mr.  Croftangry — very  intelligible  ;  and  that  1 
consider  as  the  first  point  in  everything  that  is  intended  to 
be  nnderstood.  There  are,  indeed,  here  and  there  some 
flights  and  fancies,  which  I  comprehended  with  difficulty  ; 
but  I  got  to  your  meaning  at  last.  There  are  people  that 
are  like  ponies :  their  judgments  cannot  go  fast,  but  they 
go  sure.'' 

"  That  is  a  pretty  clear  proposition,  my  friend  ;  but  then 
how  did  you  like  the  meaning  when  you  did  get  at  it  ?  or 
was  that,  like  some  ponies,  too  difficult  to  catch,  and,  when 
catched,  not  worth  the  trouble  ?" 

*'I  am  far  from  saying  that,  my  dear  sir,  in  respect  it 
would  be  downright  uncivil  ;  but  since  you  ask  my  opinion, 
I  wish  you  could  have  thought  about  something  more  apper- 
taining to  civil  policy  than  all  this  bloody  work  about  shoot- 
ing and  dirking,  and  downright  hanging.  I  am  told  it  was 
the  Germans  who  first  brought  in  such  a  practise  of  choos- 
ing their  heroes  out  of  the  Porteous  Roll ;  *  but,  by  my  faith, 
we  are  like  to  be  upsides  with  them.  The  first  was,  as  I  am 
credibly  informed,  Mr.  Scolar,  as  they  call  him — a  scholar- 
like piece  of  work  he  has  made  of  it,  with  his  robbers  and 
thieves." 

**  Schiller,"  said  I,  "  my  dear  sir — let  it  be  Schiller." 

"Shiller,  or  what  you  like,"  said  Mr.  Fairscribe.  "I 
found  the  book  where  I  wish  I  had  found  a  better  one,  and 
that  is,  in  Kate's  work-basket.  I  sat  down,  and,  like  an  old 
fool,  began  to  read  ;  but  there,  I  grant,  you  have  the  better 
of  Shiller,  Mr.  Croftangry." 

"  I  should  be  glad,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  really  think  I 
have  approached  that  admirable  author  ;  even  your  friendly 
partiality  ought  not  to  talk  of  my  having  excelled  him." 

**  But  I  do  say  you  have  excelled  him,  Mr.  Croftangry,  in 
a  most  material  particular.  For  surely  a  book  of  amuse- 
ment should  be  something  that  one  can  take  up  and  lay 
down  at  pleasure  ;  and  I  can  say  justly,  I  was  never  at  the 
least  loss  to  put  aside  these  sheets  of  yours  when  business 
came  in  the  way.  But,  faith,  this  Shiller,  sir,  does  not  let 
you  off  so  easily.  I  forgot  one  appointment  on  particular 
business,  and  I  wilfully  broke  through  another,  that  I  might 
stay  at  home  and  finish  his  confounded  book,  which,  after 
all,  is  about  two  brothers,  the  greatest  rascals  I  ever  heard 
of.     The  one,  sir,  goes  near  to  murder  his  own  father,  and 

*  List  of  oriminal  indictments,  so  termed  in  Scotland. 


> 


PBEFATOBT  xiil 

the  other — which  you  would  think  still  stranger — sets  about 
to  debauch  his  own  wife/' 

"  I  find,  then,  Mr.  Fairscribe,  that  you  have  no  taste  for 
the  romance  of  real  life,  no  pleasure  in  contemplating  those 
spirit-rousing  impulses  which  force  men  of  fiery  passions  upon 
great  crimes  and  great  virtues  ? " 

'"  Why,  as  to  that,  I  am  not  just  so  sure.  But  then^  to 
mend  the  matter, ''  continued  the  critic,  "  you  have  brought 
in  Highlanders  into  every  story,  as  if  you  were  going  back 
again,  velis  et  remis,  into  the  old  days  of  Jacobitism.  I  must 
speak  my  plain  mind,  Mr.  Croftangry.  I  cannot  tell  what 
innovations  in  kirk  and  state  may  be  now  proposed,  but  our 
fathers  were  friends  to  both,  as  they  were  settled  at  the 
glorious  Revolution,  and  liked  a  tartan  plaid  as  little  as  they 
did  a  white  surplice.  I  wish  to  Heaven  all  this  tartan  fever 
bode  well  to  the  Protestant  succession  and  the  Kirk  of 
Scotland.'' 

*^  Both  too  well  settled,  I  hope,  in  the  minds  of  the 
subject,''  said  I,  *•'  to  be  affected  by  old  remembrances,  on 
which  we  look  back  as  on  the  portraits  of  our  ancestors, 
without  recollecting,  while  we  gaze  on  them,  any  of  the  feuds 
by  which  the  originals  were  animated  while  alive.  But  most 
happy  should  I  be  to  light  upon  any  topic  to  supply  the  place 
of  the  Highlands,  Mr.  Fairscribe.  I  have  been  just  reflect- 
ing that  the  theme  is  becoming  a  little  exhausted,  and  your 
experience  may  perhaps  supply " 

"Ha — ha — ha,  my  experience  supply  !"  interrupted  Mr. 
Fairscribe,  with  a  laugh  of  derision.  "  Why,  you  might  as 
well  ask  my  son  James's  experience  to  supply  a  case  about 
thirlage.  Ko — no,  my  good  friend,  I  have  lived  by  the  law 
and  in  the  law  all  my  life  ;  and  when  you  seek  the  impulses 
that  make  soldiers  desert  and  shoot  their  sergeants  and  cor- 
porals, and  Highland  drovers  dirk  English  graziers,  to  prove 
themselves  men  of  fiery  passions,  it  is  not  to  a  man  like  me 
you  should  come.  I  could  tell  you  some  tricks  of  my  own 
trade,  perhaps,  and  a  queer  story  or  two  of  estates  that  have 
been  lost  and  recovered.  But,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  think 
you  might  do  with  your  Muse  of  Fiction,  as  you  call  her,  as 
many  an  honest  man  does  with  his  own  sons  in  flesh  and 
blood." 

"  And  how  is  that,  my  dear  sir  ?  '* 

"  Send  her  to  India,  to  be  sure.  That  is  the  true  place 
for  a  Scot  to  thrive  in ;  and  if  you  carry  your  story  fifty 
years  back,  as  there  is  nothing  to  hinder  you,  you  will  find 
as  much  shooting  and  stabbing  there  as  ever  was  in  the  wild 


xiv  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Highlands.  If  yon  want  rognes,  as  they  are  so  much  in 
fashion  with  you,  you  have  that  gallant  caste  of  adventurers 
who  laid  down  their  consciences  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
as  they  went  out  to  India,  and  forgot  to  take  them  up  again 
when  they  returned.  Then,  for  great  exploits,  you  have  in 
the  old  history  of  India,  before  Europeans  were  numerous 
thene,  the  most  wonderful  deeds,  done  by  the  least  possible 
means,  that  perhaps  the  annals  of  the  world  can  afford."^ 

"  I  know  it,"  said  I,  kindling  at  the  ideas  his  speech  in- 
spired.  "  I  remember,  in  the  delightful  pages  of  Orme,*  the 
interest  which  mingles  in  his  narratives,  from  the  very  small 
number  of  English  which  are  engaged.  Each  officer  of  a 
regiment  becomes  known  to  you  by  name — nay,  the  non- 
commissioned officers  and  privates  acquire  an  individual 
share  of  interest.  They  are  distinguished  among  the  natives 
like  the  Spaniards  among  the  Mexicans.  What  do  I  say  ? 
They  are  like  Homer's  demigods  among  the  warring  mortals. 
Men  like  Olive  and  Oailliaud  f  influenced  great  events  like 
Jove  himself.  Inferior  officers  are  like  Mars  or  Neptune, 
and  the  sergeants  and  corporals  might  well  pass  for  demigods. 
Then  the  various  religious  costumes,  habits,  and  manners  of 
the  people  of  Hindostan — the  patient  Hindoo,  the  warlike 
Rajahpoot,  the  haughty  Moslemah,  the  savage  and  vin- 
dictive Malay.  Glorious  and  unbounded  subjects !  The 
only  objection  is,  that  I  have  never  been  there,  and  know 
nothing  at  all  about  them.'' 

'*  Nonsense,  my  good  friend.  You  will  tell  us  about  them 
all  the  better  that  you  know  nothing  of  what  you  are  saying. 
And  come,  we'll  finish  the  bottle,  and  when  Katie — her  sis- 
ters go  to  the  assembly — has  given  us  tea,  she  will  tell  you 
the  outline  of  the  story  of  poor  Menie  Gray,  whose  picture 
you  will  see  in  the  drawing-room,  a  distant  relation  of  my 
father's,  who  had,  however,  a  handsome  part  of  cousin 
Menie's  succession.  There  are  none  living  that  can  be  hurt 
by  the  story  now,  though  it  was  thought  best  to  smother  it 
up  at  the  time,  as  indeed  even  the  whispers  about  it  led  poor 
cousin  Menie  to  live  very  retired.  I  mind  her  well  when  a 
child.  There  was  something  very  gentle,  but  rather  tire- 
some, about  poor  cousin  Menie." 

*  History  of  Military  Transactions  of  the  British  Nation  m  In- 
dostan,from  the  Year  1745  to  1761,  by  Robert  Orme  [1763J,  3  vols. 
4to  (Laing). 

f  Robert  Clive,  of  Indian  celebritv,  born  1725,  died  1774  i  and 
Frederic  Cailliaud,  the  Fi-ench  traveler  in  Africa,  born  1787,  died 
1869  (Laing)  ^ 


PBEFATOJiY  XV 

When  we  came  into  the  drawing-room,  my  friend  pointed 
to  a  picture  which  I  had  before  noticed,  without,  however, 
its  having  attracted  more  than  a  passing  look  ;  now  I  re- 
garded it  with  more  attention.  It  was  one  of  those  portraits 
of  the  middle  of  the  18th  century,  in  which  artists  endeavored 
to  conquer  the  stiffness  of  hoops  and  brocades,  by  throwing 
a  fancy  drapery  around  the  figure,  with  loose  folds  like  a 
mantle  or  dressing-gown,  the  stays,  however,  being  retained, 
and  the  bosom  displayed  in  a  manner  which  shows  that  our 
mothers,  like  their  daughters,  were  as  liberal  of  their  charms 
as  the  nature  of  their  dress  might  permit.  To  this  the  well- 
known  style  of  the  period  the  features  and  form  of  the  in- 
dividual added,  at  first  sight,  little  interest.  It  represented 
a  handsome  woman  of  about  thirty,  her  hair  wound  simply 
about  her  head,  her  features  regular,  and  her  complexion 
fair.  But  on  looking  more  closely,  especially  after  having 
had  a  hint  that  the  original  had  been  the  heroine  of  a  tale, 
I  could  observe  a  melancholy  sweetness  in  the  countenance, 
that  seemed  to  speak  of  woes  endured  and  injuries  sustained 
with  that  resignation  which  women  can  and  do  sometimes 
display  under  the  insults  and  ingratitude  of  those  on  whom 
they  have  bestowed  their  affections. 

**  Yes,  she  was  an  excellent  and  an  ill-used  woman,*'  said 
Mr.  Fairscribe,  his  eye  fixed  like  mine  on  the  picture.  '^  She 
left  our  family  not  less,  I  daresay,  than  five  thousand  pounds, 
and  I  believe  she  died  worth  four  times  that  sum  ;  but  it  was 
divided  among  the  nearest  of  kin,  which  was  all  fair.*' 

"  But  her  history,  Mr.  Fairscribe,'*  said  I ;  **  to  judge  from 
her  look,  it  must  have  been  a  melancholy  one." 

*'  You  may  say  that,  Mr.  Crof  tangry.  Melancholy  enough, 
extraordinary  enough,  too.  But,**  added  he,  swallowing  in 
haste  a  cup  of  the  tea  which  was  presented  to  him,  **  I  must 
away  to  my  business :  we  cannot  be  gowffing  all  the  morn- 
ing, and  telling  old  stories  all  the  afternoon.  Katie  knows 
all  the  outs  and  the  ins  of  cousin  Menie*s  adventures  as  well 
as  I  do,  and  when  she  has  given  you  the  particulars,  then  I 
am  at  your  service,  to  condescend  more  articulately  upon 
dates  or  particulars.** 

Well,  here  was  I,  a  gay  old  bachelor,  left  to  hear  a  love 
tale  from  my  young  fried  Katie  Fairscribe,  who,  when  she 
is  not  surrounded  by  a  bevy  of  gallants,  at  which  time,  to  my 
thinking,  she  shows  less  to  advantage,  is  as  pretty,  well- 
behaved,  and  unaffected  a  girl  as  you  see  tripping  the  new 
walks  of  Princes  Street  or  Heriot  Row.  Old  bachelorship  so 
decided  as  mine  has  its  privileges  in  such  a  tete-a-tete,  pro- 


xvi  WA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

viding  you  are,  or  can  seem  for  the  time,  perfectly  ^jod- 
humorcd  and  attentive,  and  do  not  ape  the  manners  of  your 
younger  years,  in  attempting  which  you  will  only  make 
yourself  ridiculous.  I  don't  pretend  to  be  so  indifferent  to 
the  company  of  a  pretty  young  woman  as  was  desired  by  the 
poet,  who  wished  to  sit  beside  his  mistress — 

As  unconcerned,  as  when 
Her  infant  beauty  could  beget 
Nor  happiness  nor  pain. 

On  the  contrary,  I  can  look  on  beauty  and  innocence  as 
something  of  which  I  know  and  esteem  the  value,  without 
the  desire  or  hope  to  make  them  my  own.  A  young  lady  can 
afford  to  talk  with  an  old  stager  like  me  without  either 
artifice  or  affectation  ;  and  we  may  maintain  a  species  of 
friendship,  the  more  tender,  perhaps,  because  we  are  of 
different  sexes,  yet  with  which  that  distinction  has  very  little 
to  do. 

Now,  I  hear  my  wisest  and  most  critical  neighbor  remark, 
**  Mr.  Crof tangry  is  in  the  way  of  doing  a  foolish  thing.  He 
is  well  to  pass — Old  Fairscribe  knows  to  a  penny  what  he  is 
worth,  and  Miss  Katie,  with  all  her  airs,  may  like  the  old 
brass  that  buys  the  new  pan.  I  thought  Mr.  Croftangry 
was  looking  very  cadgy  when  he  came  in  to  play  a  rubber 
with  us  last  night.  Poor  gentleman,  I  am  sure  Tshould  be 
sorry  to  see  him  make  a  fool  of  himself.'* 

Spare  your  compassion,  dear  madam,  there  is  not  the  least 
danger.  The  beaux  yeux  de  ma  cassette  are  not  brilliant 
enough  to  make  amends  for  the  spectacles  which  must  sup- 
ply the  dimness  of  my  own.  I  am  a  little  deaf  too,  as  you 
know  to  your  sorrow  when  we  are  partners  ;  and  if  I  could 
get  a  nymph  to  marry  me  with  all  these  imperfections,  who 
the  deuce  would  marry  Janet  MacEvoy  ?  and  from  Janet 
MacEvoy  Chrystal  Croftangry  will  not  part. 

Miss  Katie  Fairscribe  gave  me  the  tale  of  Menie  Gray  with 
much  taste  and  simplicity,  not  attempting  to  suppress  the 
feelings,  whether  of  grief  or  resentment,  which  justly  and 
naturally  arose  from  the  circumstances  of  the  tale.  Her 
father  afterwards  confirmed  the  principal  outlines  of  the 
story,  and  furnished  me  with  some  additional  circumstances, 
which  Miss  Katie  had  suppressed  or  forgotten.  Indeed,  I 
have  learned  on  this  occasion  what  old  Lintot  meant  when 
he  told  Pope  that  he  used  to  propitiate  the  critics  of  impor- 
tance, when  he  had  a  work  in  tne  press,  bv  now  and  then 
letting  them  gee  a  sheet  of  the  blotted  prooi,  or  a  few  leave* 


PREFATORY  xvU 

of  the  original  manuscript.  Onr  mystery  of  authorship  hath 
something  about  it  so  fascinating,  that  if  you  admit  any  one, 
however  little  he  may  previously  have  been  disposed  to  such 
studies,  into  your  confidence,  you  will  find  that  he  considers 
himself  as  a  party  interested,  and,  if  success  follows,  will 
think  himself  entitled  to  no  inconsiderable  share  of  the 
praise. 

The  reader  has  seen  that  no  one  could  have  been  naturally 
less  interested  than  was  my  excellent  friend  Fairscribe  in  my 
lucubrations,  when  I  first  consulted  him  on  the  subject  ;  but 
since  he  has  contributed  a  subject  to  the  work,  he  has  become 
a  most  zealous  coadjutor  ;  and,  half-ashamed,  I  believe,  yet 
half-proud,  of  the  literary  stock-company  in  which  he  has 
got  a  share,  he  never  meets  me  without  jogging  my  elbow, 
and  dropping  some  mysterious  hints,  as,  *'  I  am  saymg.  when 
will  you  give  us  any  more  of  yon  ?"  or,  *' Yon's  not  a.  bad 
narrative — I  like  yon.'^ 

Pray  Heaven  the  reader  may  be  of  his  opinioiir 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER 


CHAPTER  I 

When  fainting  Nature  call'd  for  aid. 

And  hovering  Death  prepared  the  blow. 
His  vigorous  remedy  display'd 

The  power  of  Art  without  the  show. 
In  Misery's  darkest  caverns  known, 

His  useful  care  was  ever  nigh, 
Where  hopeless  Anguish  pour'd  his  groan. 

And  lonely  Want  retired  to  die  ; 
No  summons  mock'd  by  cold  delay. 

No  petty  gains  disclaim'd  by  pride. 
The  modest  wants  of  every  day 

The  toil  of  every  day  supplied. 

Samuel  Johnson. 

The  exquisitely  beautiful  portrait  which  the  Rambler  has 
painted  of  his  friend  Levett  well  describes  Gideon  Gray  and 
many  other  village  doctors,  from  whom  Scotland  reaps  more 
benefit,  and  to  whom  she  is  perhaps  more  ungrateful,  than 
to  any  other  class  of  men,  excepting  her  schoolmasters. 

Such  a  rural  man  of  medicine  is  usually  the  inhabitant  of 
some  petty  borough  or  village,  which  forms  the  central 
point  of  his  practise.  But,  besides  attending  to  such  cases 
as  the  village  may  afford,  he  is  day  and  night  at  the  service 
of  every  one  who  may  command  his  assistance  within  a  circle 
of  forty  miles  in  diameter,  untraversed  by  roads  in  many 
directions,  and  including  moors,  mountains,  rivers,  and 
lakes.  For  late  and  dangerous  journeys  through  an  inacces- 
sible country,  for  services  of  the  most  essential  kind,  ren- 
dered at  the  expense,  or  risk  at  least,  of  his  own  health  and 
life,  the  Scottish  village  doctor  receives  at  best  a  very  moder- 
ate recompense,  often  one  which  is  totally  inadequate,  and 
very  frequently  none  whatsoever.  He  has  none  of  the  ample 
resources  proper  to  the  brothers  of  the  profession  in  an 
English  town.     The  burgesses  of  a  Scottish  borough  are 


2  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

rendered,  by  their  limited  means  of  luxury,  inaccessible  to 
gout,  surfeits,  and  all  the  comfortable  chronic  diseases  which 
are  attendant  on  wealth  and  indolence.  Fours  years  or  so 
of  abstemiousness  enable  them  to  stand  an  election  dinner  ; 
and  there  is  no  hope  of  broken  heads  among  a  score  or  two 
of  quiet  electors,  who  settle  the  business  over  a  table.  There 
the  mothers  of  the  state  never  make  a  point  of  pouring,  in 
the  course  of  every  revolving  year,  a  certain  quantity  of  doc- 
tor's stuff  through  the  bowels  of  their  beloved  children. 
Every  old  woman  from  the  '^townhead  to  the  townfit*'  can 
prescribe  a  dose  of  salts  or  spread  a  plaster  ;  and  it  is  only 
when  a  fever  or  a  palsy  renders  matters  serious  that  the 
assistance  of  the  doctor  is  invoked  by  his  neighbors  in  the 
borough. 

But  still  the  man  of  science  cannot  complain  of  inactivity 
or  want  of  practise.  If  he  does  not  find  patients  at  his  door, 
he  seeks  them  through  a  wide  circle.  Like  the  ghostly  lover 
of  Burger's  Leonora,  he  mounts  at  midnight,  and  traverses 
in  darkness  paths  which,  to  those  less  accustomed  to  them, 
seem  formidable  in  daylight,  through  straits  where  the 
slightest  aberration  would  plunge  him  into  a  morass,  or 
throw  him  over  a  precipice,  on  to  cabins  which  his  horse 
might  ride  over  without  knowing  they  lay  in  his  way,  unless 
he  happened  to  fall  through  the  roofs.  When  he  arrives  at 
such  a  stately  termination  of  his  journey,  where  his  services 
are  required  either  to  bring  a  wretch  into  the  world  or  pre- 
vent one  from  leaving  it,  the  scene  of  misery  is  often  such 
that,  far  from  touching  the  hard-saved  shillings  which  are 
gratefully  offered  to  him,  he  bestows  his  medicines  as  well 
as  his  attendance — for  charity.  I  have  heard  the  celebrated 
traveler,  Mungo  Park,  who  had  experienced  both  courses  of 
life,  rather  give  the  preference  to  traveling  as  a  discoverer  in 
Africa  than  to  wandering  by  night  and  day  the  wilds  of  his 
native  land  in  the  capacity  of  a  country  medical  practitioner. 
He  mentioned  having  once  upon  a  time  rode  forty  miles,  sat 
up  all  night,  and  successfully  assisted  a  woman  under  influ- 
ence of  the  primitive  curse,  for  which  his  sole  remuneration 
was  a  roasted  potato  and  a  draught  of  buttermilk.  But  his 
was  not  the  heart  which  grudged  the  labor  that  relieved 
human  misery.  In  short,  there  is  no  creature  in  Scotland  that 
works  harder  and  is  more  poorly  requited  than  the  country 
doctor,  unless  perhaps  it  may  be  his  horse.  Yet  the  horse 
is,  and  indeed  must  be,  hardy,  active,  and  indefatigable, 
in  spite  of  a  rough  coat  and  indifferent  condition  ;  and  so 
you  will  often  find  in  his  master,  under  an  unpromising  and 


THE  8  UB  GEON'  S  DA  UGHTEB  3 

blnnt  exterior,  professional  skill  and  enthusiasm,  intelli- 
gence, humanity,  courage,  and  science. 

Mr.  Gideon  Gray,  surgeon  in  the  village  of  Middlemas, 
situated  in  one  of  the  midland  counties  of  Scotland,  led  the 
roagh,  active,  and  ill-rewarded  course  of  life  which  we  have 
endeavored  to  describe.  He  was  a  man  between  forty  and 
fifty,  devoted  to  his  profession,  and  of  such  reputation  in 
the  medical  world  that  he  had  been  more  than  once,  as  op- 
portunities occurred,  advised  to  exchange  Middlemas  and  its 
meager  circle  of  practise  for  some  of  the  larger  towns  in 
Scotland,  or  for  Edinburgh  itself.  This  advice  he  had 
always  declined.  He  was  a  plain,  blunt  man,  who  did  not 
love  restraint,  and  was  unwilling  to  subject  himself  to  that 
which  was  exacted  in  polite  society.  He  had  not  himself 
found  out,  nor  had  any  friend  hinted  to  him,  that  a  slight 
touch  of  the  cynic,  in  manner  and  habits,  gives  the  physi- 
cian, to  the  common  eye,  an  air  of  authority  which  greatly 
tends  to  enlarge  his  reputation.  Mr.  Gray,  or,  as  the 
country  people  called  him.  Doctor  Gray  (he  might  hold  the 
title  by  diploma  for  what  I  know,  though  he  only  claimed 
the  rank  of  Master  of  Arts),  had  few  wants,  and  these  were 
amply  supplied  by  a  professional  income  which  generally 
approached  two  hundred  pounds  a-year,  for  which,  upon  an 
average,  he  traveled  about  five  thousand  miles  on  horseback 
in  the  course  of  the  twelve  months.  Nay,  so  liberally  did 
this  revenue  support  himself  and  his  ponies,  called  Pestle 
and  Mortar,  which  he  exercised  alternately,  that  he  took  a 
damsel  to  share  it,  Jean  Watson,  namely,  the  cherry-cheeked 
daughter  of  an  honest  farmer,  who,  being  herself  one  of 
twelve  children,  who  had  been  brought  up  on  an  income  of 
fourscore  pounds  a-year,  never  thought  there  could  be  pov- 
erty in  more  than  double  the  sum  ;  and  looked  on  Gray, 
though  now  termed  by  irreverent  youth  the  Old  Doctor, 
as  a  very  advantageous  match.  For  several  years  they  had 
no  children,  and  it  seemed  as  if  Doctor  Gray,  who  had  so 
often  assisted  the  efforts  of  the  goddess  Lucina,  was  never 
to  invoke  her  in  his  own  behalf.  Yet  his  domestic  roof 
was,  on  a  remarkable  occasion,  decreed  to  be  the  scene  where 
the  goddess's  art  was  required. 

Late  of  an  autumn  evening  three  old  women  might  be 
observed  plying  their  aged  limbs  through  the  single  street  of 
the  village  at  Middlemas  towards  the  honored  door,  which, 
fenced  off  from  the  vulgar  causeway,  was  defended  by  a 
broken  paling,  enclosing  two  slips  of  ground,  half  arable, 
half,  overrun  with  an  abortive  attempt  at  shrubbery.     The 


4  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

door  itself  was  blazoned  with  the  name  of  Gideon  Gray,  M. 
A.,  Surgeon,  etc.  etc.  Some  of  the  idle  young  fellows  who 
had  been  a  minute  or  two  before  loitering  at  the  other  end 
of  the  street  before  the  door  of  the  ale-house  (for  the  pre- 
tended inn  deserved  no  better  name)  now  accompanied  the 
old  dames  with  shouts  of  laughter,  excited  by  their  unwonted 
agility ;  and  with  bets  on  the  winner,  as  loudly  expressed 
as  if  they  had  been  laid  at  the  starting-post  of  Middlemas 
races.  "  Half-a-mutchkin  on  Luckie  Simson  ! "  "  Auld 
Peg  Tamson  against  the  field  !  "  ''  Mair  speed,  Alison  Jaup, 
ye^l  tak  the  wind  out  of  them  yet  ! ''  '^  Canny  against  the 
hill,  lasses,  or  we  may  have  a  brusten  auld  carline  amang 
ye  !  "  These,  and  a  thousand  such  gibes,  rent  the  air,  with- 
out being  noticed,  or  even  heard,  by  the  anxious  racers, 
whose  object  of  contention  seemed  to  be  which  should  first 
reach  the  doctor's  door. 

*'  Guide  us,  doctor,  what  can  be  the  matter  now  ?"  said 
Mrs.  Gray,  whose  character  was  that  of  a  good-natured 
simpleton  ;  *'  here's  Peg  Tamson,  Jean  Simson,  and  Alison 
Jaup  running  a  race  on  the  Hie  Street  of  the  burgh  ! " 

The  doctor,  who  had  but  the  moment  before  hung  his  wet 
greatcoat  before  the  fire  (for  he  was  just  dismounted  from  a 
long  journey),  hastened  downstairs,  auguring  some  new  oc- 
casion for  his  services,  and  happy  that,  from  the  character 
of  the  messengers,  it  was  likely  to  be  within  burgh,  and  not 
landward. 

He  had  just  reached  the  door  as  Luckie  Simson,  one  of 
the  racers,  arrived  in  the  little  area  before  it.  She  had  got 
the  start  and  kept  it,  but  at  the  expense  for  the  time  of  her 
power  of  utterance  ;  for,  when  she  came  in  presence  of  the 
doctor,  she  stood  blowing  like  a  grampus,  her  loose  toy 
flying  back  from  her  face,  making  the  most  violent  efforts 
to  speak,  but  without  the  power  of  uttering  a  single  intel- 
ligible word. 

Peg  Thomson  whipped  in  before  her.  ''  The  leddy,  sir — 
the  leddy *' 

**  Instant  help — instant  help "  screeched,  rather  than 

uttered,  Alison  Jaup ;  while  Luckie  Simson,  who  had  cer- 
tainly won  the  race,  found  words  to  claim  the  prize  which 
had  set  them  all  in  motion.  "  And  I  hope,  sir,  you  will  re- 
commend me  to  be  the  sick-nurse  ;  I  was  here  to  bring  you 
the  tidings  lang  before  ony  o'  thae  lazy  queans." 

Loud  were  the  counter  protestations  of  the  two  com- 
petitors, and  loud  the  laugh  of  the  idle  "loons"  who 
listened  at  a  little  distance. 


THE  S  UB GEON '  S  DA  UGRTEB  5 

^'  Hold  yourtongue,  ye  flyting  fools/'  said  the  doctor;  '^and 
von,  ye  idle  rascals,  if  I  come  you  among  you "  So  say- 
ing, he  smacked  his  long-lashed  whip  with  great  emphasis, 
producing  much  the  effect  of  the  celebrated  Quos  ego  of 
Neptune,  in  the  First  j^neid.  "And  now/'  said  the  doctor, 
"  where  or  who  is  this  lady  ?  " 

The  question  was  scarce  necessary ;  for  a  plain  carriage, 
with  four  horses,  came  at  a  foot's-pace  towards  the  door  of 
the  doctor's  house,  and  the  old  women,  now  more  at  their 
ease,  gave  the  doctor  to  understand  that  the  gentleman 
thought  the  accommodation  of  the  Swan  Inn  totally  unfit 
for  his  lady's  rank  and  condition,  and  had,  by  their  advice 
(each  claiming  the  merit  of  the  suggestion),  brought  her 
here,  to  experience  the  hospitality  of  the  **  west-room" — 
a  spare  apartment  in  which  Doctor  Gray  occasionally  ac- 
commodated such  patients  as  he  desired  to  keep  for  a  space 
of  time  under  his  own  eye. 

There  were  two  persons  only  in  the  vehicle.  The  one,  a 
gentleman  in  a  riding-dress,  sprung  out,  and  having  re- 
ceived from  the  doctor  an  assurance  that  the  lady  would 
receive  tolerable  accommodation  in  his  house,  he  lent  assist- 
ance to  his  companion  to  leave  the  carriage,  and  with  great  ap- 
parent satisfaction  saw  her  safely  deposited  in  a  decent 
sleeping-apartment,  and  under  the  respectable  charge  of 
the  doctor  and  his  lady,  who  assured  him  once  more  of 
every  species  of  attention.  To  bind  their  promise  more 
firmly,  the  stranger  slipped  a  purse  of  twenty  guineas  (for 
this  story  chanced  in  the  golden  agej  into  the  hand  of  the 
doctor,  as  an  earnest  of  the  most  liberal  recompense,  and 
requested  he  would  spare  no  expense  in  providing  all  that 
was  necessary  or  desirable  for  a  person  in  the  lady's  con- 
dition, and  for  the  helpless  being  to  whom  she  might  im- 
mediately be  expected  to  give  birth.  He  then  said  he 
would  retire  to  the  inn,  where  he  begged  a  message  might 
instantly  acquaint  him  with  the  expected  change  in  the 
lady's  situation. 

"  She  is  of  rank,"  he  said,  "  and  a  foreigner ;  let  no  ex- 
pense be  spared.  We  designed  to  have  reached  Edinburgh, 
but  were  forced  to  turn  off  the  road  by  an  accident."  Once 
more  he  said,  "  Let  no  expense  be  spared,  and  manage  that 
she  may  travel  as  soon  as  possible." 

*' That,"  said  the  doctor,  ''is  past  my  control.  Nature 
must  not  be  hurried,  and  she  avenges  herself  of  every 
attempt  to  do  so/' 

''But  art/'  said  the  stranger,  *'can  do  much/'  and  he 


6  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

proffered  a  second  purse,  which  seemed  as  heavy  as  the 
first. 

'^Art/*  said  the  doctor,  "may  be  recompensed,  but  can- 
not be  purchased.  You  have  already  paid  me  more  than 
enough  to  take  the  utmost  care  I  can  of  your  lady  ;  should 
I  accept  more  money,  it  could  only  be  for  promising,  by 
implication  at  least,  what  is  beyond  my  power  to  perform. 
Every  possible  care  shall  be  taken  of  your  lady,  and  that 
affords  the  best  chance  of  her  being  speedily  able  to  travel. 
Now,  go  you  to  your  inn,  sir,  for  I  may  be  instantly  wanted, 
and  we  have  not  yet  provided  either  an  attendant  for  the  lady 
or  a  nurse  for  the  child  ;  but  both  shall  be  presently  done." 

"Yet  a  moment,  doctor — what  languages  do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"  Latin  and  French  I  can  speak  indifferently,  and  so  as  to 
be  understood  ;  and  I  read  a  little  Italian." 

*'  But  no  Portuguese  or  Spanish  ?  "  continued  the  stranger. 

"No,  sir." 

"  That  is  unlucky.  But  you  may  make  her  understand  you 
by  means  of  French.  Take  notice,  you  are  to  comply  with 
her  request  in  everything  ;  if  you  want  means  to  do  so,  you 
may  apply  to  me." 

"  May  I  ask,  sir,  by  what  name'  the  lady  is  to  be " 

"  It  is  totally  indifferent,"  said  the  stranger,  interrupting 
the  question  ;  "you  shall  know  it  at  more  leisure." 

So  saying,  he  threw  his  ample  cloak  about  him,  turning 
himself  half  round  to  assist  the  operation,  with  an  air  which 
the  doctor  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  imitate,  and 
walked  down  the  street  to  the  little  inn.  Here  he  paid  and 
dismissed  the  postilions,  and  shut  himself  up  in  an  apart- 
ment, ordering  no  one  to  be  admitted  till  the  doctor  should 
call. 

The  doctor,  when  he  returned  to  his  patient's  apartment, 
found  his  wife  in  great  surprise,  which,  as  is  usual  with 
persons  of  her  character,  was  not  unmixed  with  fear  and 
anxiety. 

"  She  cannot  speak  a  word  like  a  Christian  being,"  said 
Mrs.  Gray. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  doctor. 

"But  she  threeps  to  keep  on  a  black  fause-face,  and 
skirls  if  we  offer  to  take  it  away." 

"  Well,  then,  let  her  wear  it.     What  harm  will  it  do  ?" 

"  Harm,  doctor  I  Was  ever  honest  woman  brought  to  bed 
with  a  fause-face  on  ?" 

"  Seldom,  perhaps.     But,  Jean,  my  dear,  those  who  are 


I 


TH:E  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  7 

not  quite  honest  must  be  brought  to  bed  all  the  same  as 
those  who  are,  and  we  are  not  to  endanger  the  poor  thing^s 
life  by  contradicting  her  whims  at  present." 

Approaching  the  sick  woman's  bed,  he  observed  that  she 
indeed  wore  a  thin  silk  mask,  of  the  kind  which  do  such 
uncommon  service  in  the  Elder  Comedy  ;  such  as  women  of 
rank  still  wore  in  travelling,  but  certainly  never  in  the  situ- 
ation of  this  poor  lady.  It  would  seem  she  had  sustained 
importunity  on  the  subject,  for  when  she  saw  the  doctor  she 
put  her  hand  to  her  face,  as  if  she  was  afraid  he  would  insist 
on  pulling  off  the  vizard.  He  hastened  to  say,  in  tolerable 
French,  that  her  will  should  be  a  law  to  them  in  every  re- 
spect, and  that  she  was  at  perfect  liberty  to  wear  the  mask 
till  it  was  her  pleasure  to  lay  it  aside.  She  understood  him  ; 
for  she  replied,  by  a  very  imperfect  attempt,  in  the  same 
language,  to  express  her  gratitude  for  the  permission,'  as  she 
seemed  to  regard  it,  of  retaining  her  disguise. 

The  doctor  proceeded  to  other  arrangements  ;  and,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  those  readers  who  may  love  minute  informa- 
tion, we  record  that  Luckie  Simson,  the  first  in  the  race, 
carried  as  a  prize  the  situation  of  sick-nurse  beside  the  deli- 
cate patient ;  that  Peg  Thomson  was  permitted  the  privilege 
of  recommending  her  good  daughter,  Bet  Jamieson,  to  be 
wet-nurse  ;  and  an  m,  or  grand-child,  of  Luckie  Jaup  was 
hired  to  assist  in  the  increased  drudgery  of  the  family  ;  the 
doctor  thus,  like  a  practised  minister,  dividing  among  his 
trusty  adherents  suCh  good  things  as  fortune  placed  at  his 
disposal. 

About  one  in  the  morning  the  doctor  made  his  appearance 
at  the  Swan  Inn,  and  acquainted  the  stranger  gentleman 
that  he  wished  him  joy  of  being  the  father  of  a  healthy  boy, 
and  that  the  mother  was,  in  the  usual  phrase,  as  well  as 
could  be  expected. 

The  stranger  heard  the  news  with  seeming  satisfaction, 
and  then  exclaimed,  **  He  must  be  christened,  doctor — he 
must  be  christened  instantly." 

*'  There  can  be  no  hurry  for  that,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  We  think  otherwise,"  said  the  stranger,  cutting  his 
argument  short.  '*  I  am  a  Catholic,  doctor,  and  as  I  may 
be  obliged  to  leave  this  place  before  the  lady  is  able  to  travel, 
I  desire  to  see  my  child  received  into  the  pale  of  the  church. 
There  is,  I  understand,  a  Catholic  priest  in  this  wretched 
place?" 

''  There  is  a  Catholic  gentleman,  sir,  Mr.  Goodriche,  who 
is  reported  to  be  in  orders." 


8  WA VEELET  NOVELS 

''I  commend  yonr  caution,  doctor,"  said  the  stranger  : 
**  it  is  dangerous  to  be  too  positive  on  any  subject.  I  will 
bring  that  same  Mr.  Goodriche  to  your  house  to-morrow/' 

Gray  hesitated  for  a  moment.  ''  1  am  a  Presbyterian 
Protestant,  sir,*'  he  said,  *^a  friend  to  the  constitution  as 
established  in  church  and  state,  as  I  have  a  good  right, 
having  drawn  his  Majesty's  pay,  God  bless  him,  for  four 
years,  as  surgeon's  mate  in  the  Oameronian  regiment,  as  my 
regimental  Bible  and  commission  can  testify.  But  although 
t  be  bound  especially  to  abhor  all  trafficking  or  trinketing 
with  Papists,  yet  I  will  not  stand  in  the  way  of  a  tender 
conscience.  Sir,  you  may  call  with  Mr.  Goodriche  when 
you  please  at  my  house  ;  and  undoubtedly,  you  being,  as  I 
suppose,  the  father  of  the  child,  you  will  arrange  matters  as 
you  please  ;  only,  1  do  not  desire  to  be  thought  an  abettor 
or  coifntenancer  of  any  part  of  the  Popish  ritual.'' 

"Enough,  sir,"  said  the  stranger,  haughtily,  **we  under- 
stand each  other." 

The  next  day  he  appeared  at  the  doctor's  house  with  Mr. 
Goodriche,  and  two  persons  understood  to  belong  to  that 
reverend  gentleman's  communion.  The  party  were  shut  up 
in  an  apartment  with  the  infant,  and  it  may  be  presumed 
that  the  solemnity  of  baptism  was  administered  to  the  un- 
conscious being  thus  strangely  launched  upon  the  world. 
When  the  priest  and  witnesses  had  retired,  the  strange 
gentleman  informed  Mr.  Gray  that,  as  the  lady  had  been 
pronounced  unfit  for  traveling  for  several  days,  he  was 
himself  about  to  leave  the  neighborhood,  but  would  return 
thither  in  the  space  of  ten  days,  when  he  hoped  to  find  his 
companion  able  to  leave  it. 

"  And  by  what  name  are  we  to  call  the  child  and  mother  ?  " 

"  The  infant's  name  is  Kichard." 

"  But  it  must  have  some  surname  ;  so  must  the  lady — she 
cannot  reside  in  my  house,  yet  be  without  a  name." 

*'  Call  them  by  the  name  of  your  town  here — Middlemas, 
I  think  it  is?" 

**  Yes,  sir." 

**  Well,  Mrs.  Middlemas  is  the  name  of  the  mother,  and 
Richard  Middlemas  of  the  child — and  I  am  Matthew  Middle- 
mas, at  your  service.  This,"  he  continued,  **  will  provide 
Mrs.  Middlemas  in  everything  she  may  wish  to  possess — or 
assist  her  in  case  of  accidents."  With  that  he  placed  £100 
in  Mr.  Gray's  hand,  who  rather  scrupled  receiving  it,  saying, 
"  He  supposed  the  lady  was  qualified  to  be  her  own  parse* 
bearer." 


THE  S UBGEON ' S  DA  UGHTEB  0 

''The  worst  in  the  world,  I  assure  you,  doctor, '^  replied 
the  stranger.  ''  If  she  wished  to  change  that  piece  of  paper, 
she  would  scarce  know  how  many  guineas  she  should  receive 
for  it.  No,  Mr.  Gray,  I  assure  you  you  will  find  Mrs. 
Middleton — Middlemas — what  did  I  call  her  ? — as  ignorant 
of  the  affairs  of  this  world  as  any  one  you  have  met  with  in 
your  practise.  So  you  will  please  to  be  her  treasurer  and 
administrator  for  the  time,  as  for  a  patient  that  is  incapable 
to  look  after  her  own  affairs. '' 

This  was  spoke,  as  it  struck  Dr.  Gray,  in  rather  a  haughty 
and  supercilious  manner.  The  words  intimated  nothing  in 
themselves  more  than  the  same  desire  of  preserving  incog- 
nito which  might  be  gathered  from  all  the  rest  of  the  stran- 
ger^s  conduct ;  but  the  manner  seemed  to  say,  "  I  am  not  a 
person  to  be  questioned  by  any  one.  What  I  say  must  be 
received  without  comment,  how  little  soever,  you  may  believe 
or  understand  it."  It  strengthened  Gray  in  his  opinion,  that 
he  had  before  him  a  case  either  of  seduction  or  of  private 
marriage,  betwixt  persons  of  the  very  highest  rank  ;  and  the 
whole  bearing,  botn  of  the  lady  and  the  gentleman,  confirmed 
his  suspicions.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to  be  troublesome 
or  inquisitive,  but  he  could  not  fail  to  see  that  the  lady  wore 
no  marriage-ring  ;  and  her  deep  sorrow  and  perpetual  tremor 
seemed  to  indicate  an  unhappy  creature  who  had  lost  the 
protection  of  parents  without  acquiring  a  legitimate  right 
to  that  of  a  husband.  He  was  therefore  somewhat  anxious 
when  Mr.  Middlemas,  after  a  private  conference  of  some 
length  with  the  lady,  bade  him  farewell.  It  is  true,  he 
assured  him  of  his  return  within  ten  days,  being  the  very 
shortest  space  which  Gray  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  assign 
for  any  prospect  of  the  lady  being  moved  with  safety. 

'*  I  trust  in  Heaven  that  he  will  return,'^  said  Gray  to  him- 
self, "^  but  there  is  too  much  mystery  about  all  this  for  the 
matter  being  a  plain  and  well-meaning  transaction.  If  he 
intends  to  treat  this  poor  thing  as  many  a  poor  girl  has  been 
used  before,  I  hope  that  my  house  will  not  be  the  scene  in 
which  he  chooses  to  desert  her.  The  leaving  the  money  has 
somewhat  a  suspicious  aspect,  and  looks  as  if  my  friend  were 
in  the  act  of  making  some  compromise  with  his  conscience. 
Well,  I  must  hope  the  best.  Meantime  my  path  plainly  is 
to  do  what  I  can  for  the  poor  lady's  benefit. 

Mr.  Gray  visited  his  patient  shortly  after  Mr.  Middlemas's 
departure — as  soon,  indeed,  as  he  could  be  admitted.  He 
found  her  in  violent  agitation.  Gray^s  experience  dictated 
the  best  mode  of  relief  and  tranquillity.     He   caused  her 


10  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

infant  to  be  brought  to  her.  She  wept  over  it  for  a  lonjy 
time,  and  the  violence  of  her  agitation  subsided  under  the 
influence  of  parental  feelings,  which,  from  her  appearance  of 
extreme  youth,  she  must  have  experienced  for  the  first  time. 

The  observant  physician  could,  after  this  paroxysm  re- 
mark that  his  patient's  mind  was  chiefly  occupied  in  com- 
puting the  passage  of  the  time,  and  anticipating  the  period 
when  the  return  of  her  husband — if  husband  he  was — might 
be  expected.  She  consulted  almanacks,  inquired  concerning 
distances,  though  so  cautiously  as  to  make  it  evident  she  de- 
sired to  give  no  indication  of  the  direction  of  her  compan- 
ion's journey,  and  repeatedly  compared  her  watch  with  those 
of  others,  exercising,  it  was  evident,  all  that  delusive  species 
of  mental  arithmetic  by  which  mortals  attempt  to  accelerate 
the  passage  of  time  while  they  calculate  his  progress.  At 
other  times  she  wept  anew  over  her  child,  which  was  by  all 
judges  pronounced  as  goodly  an  infant  as  needed  to  be  seen  ; 
and  Gray  sometimes  observed  that  she  murmured  sentences 
to  the  unconscious  infant,  not  only  the  words,  but  the  very 
sound  and  accents  of  which  were  strange  to  him,  and  which, 
in  particular,  he  knew  not  to  be  Portuguese. 

Mr.  Groodriche,  the  Catholic  priest,  demanded  access  to 
her  upon  one  occasion.  She  at  first  declined  his  visit,  but 
afterwards  received  it,  under  the  idea  perhaps,  that  he  might 
have  news  from  Mr.  Middlemas,  as  he  called  himself.  The 
interview  was  a  very  short  one,  and  the  priest  left  the  lady's 
apartment  in  displeasure,  which  his  prudence  could  scarce 
disguise  from  Mr.  Gray.  He  never  returned,  although  the 
lady's  condition  would  have  made  his  attentions  and  conso- 
lations necessary,  had  she  been  a  member  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

Our  doctor  began  at  length  to  suspect  his  fair  guest  was  a 
Jewess,  who  had  yielded  up  her  person  and  affections  to  one 
of  a  different  religion  :  and  the  peculiar  style  of  her  beauti- 
ful countenance  went  to  enforce  this  opinion.  The  cir- 
cumstance made  no  difference  to  Gray,  who  saw  only  her 
distress  and  desolation,  and  endeavored  to  remedy  both  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power.  He  was,  however,  desirous  to  conceal 
it  from  his  wife  and  the  others  around  the  sick  person,  whose 
prudence  and  liberality  of  thinking  might  be  more  justly 
doubted.  He  therefore  so  regulated  her  diet  that  she  could 
not  be  either  offended  or  brought  under  suspicion  by  any  of 
the  articles  forbidden  by  the  Mosiac  law  being  presented  to 
her.  In  other  respects  than  what  concerned  her  health  ot 
convenience,  he  had  but  little  intercourse  with  her. 


THE  S  UBGEON '  S  DA  UGHTEB  11 

The  space  passed  within  which  the  stranger's  return  to 
the  borough  had  been  so  anxiously  expected  by  his  female 
companion.  The  disappointment  occasioned  by  his  non- 
arrival  was  manifested  in  the  convalescent  by  inquietude, 
which  was  at  first  mingled  with  peevishness,  and  afterwards 
with  doubt  and  fear.  When  two  or  three  days  had  passed 
without  message  or  letter  of  any  kind.  Gray  himself  became 
anxious,  both  on  his  own  account  and  the  poor  lady's,  lest 
the  stranger  should  have  actually  entertained  the  idea  of 
deserting  this  defenseless  and  probably  injured  woman.  He 
longed  to  have  some  communication  with  her,  which  might 
enable  him  to  judge  what  inquiries  could  be  made,  or  what 
else  was  most  fitting  to  be  done.  But  so  imperfect  was  the 
poor  young  worn an^s  knowledge  of  the  French  language,  and 
perhaps  so  unwilling  she  herself  to  throw  any  light  on  her 
situation,  that  every  attempt  of  this  kind  proved  abortive. 
When  Gray  asked  questions  concerning  any  subject  which 
appeared  to  approach  to  explanation,  he  observed  she  usually 
answered  him  by  shaking  her  head,  in  token  of  not  under- 
standing what  he  said ;  at  other  times  by  silence  and  with 
tears,  and  sometimes  referring  him  to  Monsieur, 

For  Monsieur^s  arrival,  then.  Gray  began  to  become  very 
impatient,  as  that  which  alone  could  put  an  end  to  a  dis- 
agreeable species  of  mystery,  which  the  good  company  of 
the  borough  began  now  to  make  the  principal  subject  of  their 
gossip  ;  some  blaming  Gray  for  taking  foreign  "  landloupers  " 
into  his  house,  on  the  subject  of  whose  morals  the  most 
serious  doubts  might  be  entertained  ;  others  envying  the 
''  bonny  hand"  the  doctor  was  like  to  make  of  it,  by  having 
disposal  of  the  wealthy  stranger's  traveling  funds — a  circum- 
stance which  could  not  be  well  concealed  from  the  public, 
when  the  honest  man's  expenditure  for  trifling  articles  of 
luxury  came  far  to  exceed  its  ordinary  bounds. 

The  conscious  probity  of  the  honest  doctor  enabled  him  to 
despise  this  sort  of  tittle-tattle,  though  the  secret  knowledge 
of  its  existence  could  not  be  agreeable  to  him.  He  went  his 
usual  rounds  with  his  usual  perseverance,  and  waited  with 
patience  until  time  should  throw  light  on  the  subject  and 
history  of  his  lodger.  It  was  now  the  fourth  week  after  her 
confinement,  and  the  recovery  of  the  stranger  might  be  con- 
sidered as  perfect,  when  Gray,  returning  from  one  of  his 
ten-mile  visits,  saw  a  post-chaise  and  four  horses  at  the  door. 
"  This  man  has  returned,''  he  said,  '^  and  my  suspicions 
have  done  him  less  than  justice."  With  that  he  spurred  his 
horse,  a  signal  which  the  trusty  steed  obeyed  the  more 


12  WA  VERLET  NO  VEL8 

readily  as  its  progress  was  in  the  direction  of  the  stable  door. 
But  when,  dismounting,  the  doctor  hurried  into  his  own 
house,  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  departure  as  well  as  the 
arrival  of  this  distressed  lady  was  destined  to  bring  confusion 
to  his  peaceful  dwelling.  Several  idlers  had  assembled  about 
his  door,  and  two  or  three  had  impudently  thrust  themselves 
forward  almost  into  the  passage  to  listen  to  a  confused  alter- 
cation which  was  heard  from  within. 

The  doctor  hastened  forward,  the  foremost  of  the  intruders 
retreating  in  confusion  on  his  approach,  while  he  caught 
the  tones  of  his  wife's  voice,  raised  to  a  pitch  which  he  knew 
by  experience  boded  no  good  ;  for  Mrs.  Gray,  good-humored 
and  tractable  in  general,  could  sometimes  perform  the  high 
part  in  a  matrimonial  duet.  Having  much  more  confidence 
in  his  wife's  good  intentions  than  her  prudence,  he  lost  no 
time  in  pushing  into  the  parlor,  to  take  the  matter  into  his 
own  hands.  Here  he  found  his  helpmate  at  the  head  of  the 
whole  militia  of  the  sick  lady's  apartment — that  is,  wet- 
nurse,  and  sick-nurse,  and  girl  of  all  work — engaged  in 
violent  dispute  with  two  strangers.  The  one  was  a  dark- 
featured  elderly  man,  with  an  eye  of  much  sharpness  and 
severity  of  expression,  which  now  seemed  partly  quenched 
by  a  mixture  of  grief  and  mortification.  The  other,  who 
appeared  actively  sustaining  the  dispute  with  Mrs.  Gray, 
was  a  stout,  bold-looking,  hard-faced  person,  armed  with 
pistols,  of  which  he  made  rather  an  unnecessary  and  osten- 
tatious display. 

"  Here  is  my  husband,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Gray,  in  a  tone  of 
triumph,  for  she  had  the  grace  to  believe  the  doctor  one  of 
the  greatest  men  living — "  here  is  the  doctor ;  let  us  see 
what  you  will  say  now." 

'*Why,  just  what  I  said  before,  ma'am,"  answered  the 
man,  '*  which  is,  that  my  warrant  must  be  obeyed.  It  is 
regular,  ma'am — regular.' 

So  saying,  he  struck  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand  against 
a  paper  which  he  held  towards  Mrs.  Gray  with  his  left. 

''Address  yourself  to  me,  if  you  please,  sir,"  said  the 
doctor,  seeing  that  he  ought  to  lose  no  time  in  removing  the 
cause  into  the  proper  court.  '*  I  am  the  master  of  this 
house,  sir,  and  I  wish  to  know  the  cause  of  this  visit."  ^ 

*'  My  business  is  soon  told,"  said  the  man.  ^  "  I  am  a  king's 
messenger,  and  this  lady  has  treated  me  as  if  I  was  a  baron- 
bailie's  officer." 

''  That  is  not  the  question,  sir,"  replied  the  doctor.  ''If 
you  are  a  king's  messenger,  where  is  your  warrant,  and  what 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  13 

do  you  propose  to  do  here  ?  "  At  the  same  time  he  whis- 
pered the  little  wench  to  call  Mr.  Lawford,  the  town-clerk, 
to  come  thither  as  fast  as  he  possibly  could.  The  good- 
daughter  of  Peg  Thomson  started  off  with  an  activity  worthy 
of  her  mother-in-law.* 

"There  is  my  warrant/'  said  the  official,  **and  you  may 
satisfy  yourself.'* 

*'  The  shameless  loon  dare  not  tell  the  doctor  his  errand," 
said  Mrs.  Gray,  exultingly. 

"  A  bonny  errand  it  is,  said  old  Luckie  Simson,  "  to  carry 
away  a  lying-in  woman,  as  a  gled  would  do  a  clocking-hen.'* 

"A  woman  no  a  month  delivered,**  echoed  the  nurse 
Jamieson. 

*'  Twenty-four  days  eight  hours  and  seven  minutes  to  a 
second,"  said  Mrs.  Gray. 

The  doctor,  having  looked  over  the  warrant,  which  was 
regular,  began  to  be  afraid  that  the  females  of  his  family,  in 
their  zeal  for  defending  the  character  of  their  sex,  might  be 
stirred  up  into  some  sudden  fit  of  mutiny,  and  therefore  com- 
manded them  to  be  silent. 

"This/*  he  said,  "is  a  warrant  for  arresting  the  bodies  of 
Richard  Tresham  and  of  Zilia  de  Mongada,  on  account  of 
high  treason.  Sir,  I  have  served  his  Majesty,  and  this  is  not 
a  house  in  which  traitors  are  harbored.  I  know  nothing  of 
any  of  these  two  persons,  nor  have  I  ever  heard  even  their 
names.** 

"  But  the  lady  whom  you  have  received  into  your  family,** 
said  the  messenger,  "  is  Zilia  de  Mon9ada,  and  here  stands 
her  father,  Matthias  de  MouQada,  who  will  make  oath  to  it.** 

"If  this  be  true,**  said  Mr.  Gray,  looking  towards  the  al- 
leged officer,  "  you  have  taken  a  singular  dut  yon  you.  It  is 
neither  my  habit  to  deny  my  own  actions  nor  to  oppose  the 
laws  of  the  land.  There  is  a  lady  in  this  house  slowly  re- 
covering from  confinement,  having  become  under  this  roof 
the  mother  of  a  healthy  child.  If  she  be  the  person  described 
in  this  warrant,  and  this  gentleman*s  daughter,  I  must  sur- 
render her  to  the  laws  of  the  country.** 

Here  the  Esculapian  militia  were  once  more  in  motion. 

"  Surrender,  Doctor  Gray  !  It's  a  shame  to  hear  you  speak, 
and  you  that  lives  by  women  and  weans,  abune  your  other 
means  ! "  so  exclaimed  his  fair  better  part. 

"  I  wonder  to  hear  the  doctor  ! "  said  the  younger  nurse  f 
"  There's  no  a  wife  in  the  town  would  believe  it  o  him.*' 

♦  fCompare  p.  7.] 


U  WA  VEBLEY  NOVELS 

**  I  aye  thought  the  doctor  was  a  man  till  this  moment,** 
said  Luckie  Simson  ;  "  but  I  believe  him  now  to  be  an  auld 
wife,  little  baulder  than  mysell ;  and  I  dinna  wonder  now 
that  poor  Mrs.  Gray " 

*'  Hold  your  peace,  you  foolish  woman,*'  said  the  doctor. 
"Do  you  think  this  business  is  not  bad  enough  already, that 
you  are  making  it  worse  with  your  senseless  claver  ?  Gentle- 
men, this  is  a  very  sad  case.  Here  is  a  warrant  for  a  high 
crime  against  a  poor  creature  who  is  little  fit  to  be  moved 
from  one  house  to  another,  much  more  dragged  to  a  prison. 
I  tell  you  plainly,  that  I  think  the  execution  of  this  arrest 
may  cause  her  death.  It  is  your  business,  sir,  if  you  be  really 
her  father,  to  consider  what  you  can  do  to  soften  this  matter 
rather  than  drive  it  on." 

"  Better  death  than  dishonor,'*  replied  the  stern-looking 
old  man,  with  a  voice  as  harsh  as  his  aspect ;  *'  and  you, 
messenger,"  he  continued,  *'  look  what  you  do,  and  execute 
the  warrant  at  your  peril." 

**  You  hear,"  said  the  man^  appealing  to  the  doctor  him- 
self, *'  I  must  have  immediate  access  to  the  lady." 

"  In  a  lucky  time,"  said  Mr.  Gray,  ^*  here  comes  the  town- 
clerk.  You  are  very  welcome,  Mr.  Lawford.  Your  opinion 
here  is  much  wanted  as  a  man  of  law,  as  well  as  of  sense  and 
humanity.     I  was  never  more  glad  to  see   you  in  all  my 

He  then  rapidly  stated  the  case  ;  and  the  messenger,  under- 
standing the  new-comer  to  be  a  man  of  some  authority,  again 
exhibited  his  warrant. 

"This  is  a  very  sufficient  and  valid  warrant.  Dr.  Gray," 
replied  the  man  of  law.  "  Nevertheless,  if  you  are  disposed 
to  make  oath  that  instant  removal  would  be  unfavorable  to 
the  lady's  health,  unquestionably  she  must  remain  here,  suit- 
ably guarded." 

"  It  is  not  so  much  the  mere  act  of  locomotion  which  I  am 
afraid  of,"  said  the  surgeon  ;  "but  I  am  free  to  depone,  on 
soul  and  conscience,  that  the  shame  and  fear  of  her  father's 
anger,  and  the  sense  of  the  affront  of  such  an  arrest,  with 
terror  for  its  consequences,  mav  occasion  violent  and  danger- 
ous illness — even  death  itself. 

"  The  father  must  see  the  daughter,  though  they  may 
have  quarrelled,"  said  Mr.  Lawford  ;  "  the  officer  of  justice 
must  execute  his  warrant,  though  it  should  frighten  the 
criminal  to  death  ;  these  evils  are  only  contingent,  not  direct 
and  immediate  consequences.  You  must  give  up  the  lady, 
Mr.  Gray,  though  your  hesitation  is  very  natural.'* 


THE  8  URG  EON  '  S  DA  TIGHTER  U 

*'At  least,  Mr.  Lawford,  I  ought  to  be  certain  that  thii 
person  in  my  house  is  the  party  they  search  for/' 

''  Admit  me  to  her  apartment,'^  replied  the  man  whom  th# 
messenger  termed  Mongada. 

The  messenger,  whom  the  presence  of  Lawford  had  made 
something  more  placid,  began  to  become  impudent  once 
more.  He  hoped,  he  said,  by  means  of  his  female  prisoner, 
to  acquire  the  information  necessary  to  apprehend  the  more 
guilty  person.  If  more  delays  were  thrown  in  his  way,  that 
information  might  come  too  late,  and  he  would  make  all 
who  were  accessory  to  such  delay  responsible  for  the  conse- 
quences. 

"  And  \"  said  Mr.  Gray,  "  though  I  were  to  be  brought 
to  the  gallows  for  it,  protest  that  this  course  may  be  the 
murder  of  my  patient.  Can  bail  not  be  taken,  Mr.  Law- 
ford?'' 

"  Not  in  cases  of  high  treason,"  said  the  official  person  ; 
and  then  continued  in  a  confidential  tone,  "  Come,  Mr.  Gray, 
we  all  know  you  to  be  a  person  well  affected  to  our  royal 
sovereign  King  George  and  the  Government  ;  but  you  must 
not  push  this  too  far,  lest  you  bring  yourself  into  trouble, 
which  everybody  in  Middlemas  would  be  sorry  for.  The 
forty-five  has  not  been  so  far  gone  by  but  we  can  remember 
enough  of  warrants  of  high  treason — ay,  and  ladies  of  quality 
committed  upon  such  charges.  But  they  were  all  favorably 
dealt  with — Lady  Ogilvy,  Lady  Macintosh,  Flora  Macdonald, 
and  all.  No  doubt  this  gentleman  knows  what  he  is  doing, 
and  has  assurances  of  the  young  lady's  safety.  So  you  must 
just  jouk  and  let  the  jaw  gae  by,  as  we  say." 

''Follow  me,  then,  gentlemen,"  said  Gideon,  ''and  you 
shall  see  the  young  lady  ; ''  and  then,  his  strong  features 
working  with  emotion  at  anticipation  of  the  distress  which 
he  was  about  to  inflict,  he  led  the  way  up  the  small  stair- 
case, and,  opening  the  door,  said  to  MonQada,  who  had  fol- 
lowed him,  "This  is  your  daughter's  only  place  of  refuge, 
in  which  I  am,  alas  !  too  weak  to  be  her  protector.  Enter, 
sir,  if  your  conscience  will  permit  you." 

The  stranger  turned  on  him  a  scowl,  into  which  it  seemed 
as  if  he  would  willingly  have  thrown  the  power  of  the  fabled 
basilisk.  Then  stepping  proudly  forward,  he  stalked  into 
the  room.  He  was  followed  by  Lawford  and  Gray  at  a  little 
distance.  The  messenger  remained  in  the  doorway.  The 
unhappy  young  woman  had  heard  the  disturbance,  and 
guessed  the  cause  too  truly.  It  is  possible  she  might  even 
nave  seen  the  strangers  on  their  descent  from  the  carriage. 


16  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

When  they  entered  the  room  she  was  on  her  knees,  beside 
an  easy-chair,  her  face  in  a  silk  wrapper  that  was  hung  over 
it.  The  man  called  Mon9ada  uttered  a  single  word  ;  by  the 
accent  it  might  have  been  something  equivalent  to  "  wretch," 
but  none  knew  its  import.  The  female  gave  a  convulsive 
shudder,  such  as  that  by  which  a  half-dying  soldier  is  af' 
fected  on  receiving  a  second  wound.  But,  without  minding 
her  emotion,  Mon9ada  seized  her  by  the  arm,  and  with  little 
gentleness  raised  her  to  her  feet,  on  which  she  seemed  to  stand 
only  because  she  was  supported  by  his  strong  grasp.  He 
then  pulled  from  her  face  the  mask  which  she  had  hitherto 
worn.  The  poor  creature  still  endeavored  to  shroud  her  face, 
by  covering  it  with  her  left  hand,  as  the  manner  in  which 
she  was  held  prevented  her  from  using  the  aid  of  the  right. 
With  little  effort  her  father  secured  that  hand  also,  which, 
indeed,  was  of  itself  far  too  little  to  serve  the  purpose  of 
concealment,  and  showed  her  beautiful  face,  burning  with 
blushes  and  covered  with  tears. 

"You,  alcalde,  and  you,  surgeon,"  he  said  to  Lawford 
and  Gray,  with  a  foreign  action  and  accent,  "  this  woman 
is  my  daughter,  the  same  Zilia  Mongada  who  is  signaled  in 
that  protocol.  Make  way,  and  let  me  carry  her  where  her 
crimes  may  be  atoned  for.'' 

"  Are  you  that  person's  daughter  ?"  said  Lawford  to  the 
lady. 

"  She  understands  no  English,"  said  Gray  ;  and  address- 
ing his  patient  in  French,  conjured  her  to  let  him  know 
whether  she  was  that  man's  daughter  or  not,  assuring  her 
of  protection  if  the  fact  were  otherwise.  The  answer  was 
murmured  faintly,  but  was  too  distinctly  intelligible — ''He 
was  her  father." 

All  farther  title  of  interference  seemed  now  ended.  The 
messenger  arrested  his  prisoner,  and,  with  some  delicacy,  re- 
quired the  assistance  of  the  females  to  get  her  conveyed  to 
the  carriage  in  waiting. 

Gray  again  interfered.  "  You  will  not,"  he  said,  *'  sepa- 
rate the  mother  and  the  infant  ?  " 

Zilia  de  Mon9ada  heard  the  question  (which,  being  ad- 
dressed to  the  father,  Gray  had  inconsiderately  uttered  in 
French),  and  it  seemed  as  if  it  recalled  to  her  recollection  the 
existence  of  the  helpless  creature  to  which  she  had  given 
birth,  forgotten  for  a  moment  amongst  the  accumulated 
horrors  of  her  father's  presence.  She  uttered  a  shriek,  ex- 
pressing poignant  grief,  and  turned  her  eyes  on  her  father 
with  the  most  intense  supplication. 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  17 

**  To  the  parish  with  the  bastard  ! "  said  Moncada  ;  while 
fche  helpless  mother  sunk  lifeless  into  the  arms  of  the  fe- 
males, who  had  now  gathered  round  her. 

''  That  will  not  pass,  sir,"  said  Gideon.  ''  If  you  are 
father  to  that  lady,  you  must  be  grandfather  to  the  helpless 
child  ;  and  you  must  settle  in  some  manner  for  its  future 
provision,  or  refer  us  to  some  responsible  person." 

Mongada  looked  towards  Lawford,  who  expressed  himself 
satisfied  of  the  propriety  of  what  Gray  said. 

*'  I  object  not  to  pay  for  whatever  the  wretched  child  may 
require,"  he  said;  '^and  if  you,  sir,"  addressing  Gray, 
'^  choose  to  take  charge  of  him,  and  breed  him  up,  you  shall 
have  what  will  better  your  living." 

The  doctor  was  about  to  refuse  a  charge  so  uncivilly 
offered  ;  but  after  a  moment's  reflection  he  replied,  **  I 
think  so  indifferently  of  the  proceedings  I  have  witnessed, 
and  of  those  concerned  in  them,  that,  if  the  mother  desires 
that  I  should  retain  the  charge  of  this  child,  I  will  not  re- 
fuse to  do  so." 

Mon9ada  spoke  to  his  daughter,  who  was  just  beginning 
to  recover  from  her  swoon,  in  the  same  language  in  which 
he  had  first  addressed  her.  The  proposition  which  he  made 
seemed  highly  acceptable,  as  she  started  from  the  arms  of 
the  females,  and,  advancing  to  Gray,  seized  his  hand,  kissed 
it,  bathed  it  in  her  tears,  and  seemed  reconciled,  even  in 
parting  with  her  child,  by  the  consideration  that  the  infant 
was  to  remain  under  his  guardianship. 

"Good,  kind  man,"  she  said  in  her  indifferent  French, 
''you  have  saved  both  mother  and  child." 

The  father,  meanwhile,  with  mercantile  deliberation, 
placed  in  Mr.  Lawford's  hands  notes  and  bills  to  the  amount 
of  a  thousand  pounds,  which  he  stated  was  to  be  vested  for 
the  child's  use,  and  advanced  in  such  portions  as  his  board 
and  education  might  require.  In  the  event  of  any  cor- 
respondence on  his  account  being  necessarj,  as  in  case  of 
death  or  the  like,  he  directed  that  communication  should  be 
made  to  Signior  Matthias  Mon9ada,  under  cover  to  a  certain 
banking-house  in  London. 

"  But  beware,"  he  said  to  Gray,  *'  how  you  trouble  me 
about  these  concerns,  unless  in  case  of  absolute  necessity." 

"  You  need  not  fear,  sir,"  replied  Gray :  *'  I  have  seen 
nothing  to-day  which  can  induce  me  to  desire  a  more  inti- 
mate correspondence  with  you  than  may  be  indispensable." 

While  Lawford  drew  up  a  proper  minute  of  this  transac- 
tion, by  which  he  himself  and  Gray  were  named  trustees  for 

2 


18  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

the  child,  Mr.  Gray  attempted  to  restore  to  the  lady  the 
balance  of  the  considerable  sum  of  money  which  Tresham 
(if  such  was  his  real  name)  had  formerly  deposited  with 
him.  With  every  species  of  gesture  by  which  hands,  eyes, 
and  even  feet,  could  express  rejection,  as  well  as  in  her  own 
broken  French,  she  repelled  the  proposal  of  reimbursement, 
while  she  entreated  that  Gray  would  consider  the  money  as 
his  own  property  ;  and  at  the  same  time  forced  upon  him  a 
ring  set  with  brilliants,  which  seemed  of  considerable 
value.  The  father  then  spoke  to  her  a  few  stern  words, 
which  she  heard  with  an  air  of  mingled  agony  and  submis- 
sion. 

*'  I  have  given  her  a  few  minutes  to  see  and  weep  over  the 
miserable  being  which  has  been  the  seal  of  her  dishonor,*' 
said  the  stern  father.  *'  Let  us  retire  and  leave  her  alone. 
You,'*  to  the  messenger,  '*  watch  the  door  of  the  room  on 
the  outside." 

Gray,  Lawford,  and  Mon9ada  retired  to  the  parlor  accord- 
ingly, where  they  waited  in  silence,  each  busied  with  his  own 
reflections,  till,  within  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  they  re- 
ceived information  that  the  lady  was  ready  to  depart. 

*'  It  is  well,"  replied  Mon^ada  ;  *'  I  am  glad  she  has  yet 
sense  enough  left  to  submit  to  that  which  needs  must  be." 

So  saying,  he  ascended  the  stair,  and  returned,  leading 
down  his  daughter,  now  again  masked  and  veiled.  As  she 
passed  Gray  she  uttered  the  words,  "  My  child — my  child  !" 
in  a  tone  of  unutterable  anguish  ;  then  entered  the  carriage, 
which  was  drawn  up  as  close  to  the  door  of  the  doctor's 
house  as  the  little  enclosure  would  permit.  The  messenger, 
mounted  on  a  led  horse,  and  accompanied  by  a  servant  and 
assistant,  followed  the  carriage,  which  drove  rapidly  off, 
taking  the  road  which  leads  to  Edinburgh.  All  who  had 
witnessed  this  strange  scene  now  departed  to  make  their 
conjectures,  and  some  to  count  their  gains  ;  for  money  had 
been  distributed  among  the  females  who  had  attended  on 
the  lady  with  so  much  liberality  as  considerably  to  reconcile 
them  to  the  breach  of  the  rights  of  womanhood  inflicted  hj 
the  precipitate  removal  of  the  patient. 


CHAPTER  n 

The  last  clond  of  dust  which  the  wheels  of  the  carriage  had 
raised  was  dissipated,  when  dinner,  which  claims  a  share  of 
human  thoughts  even  in  the  midst  of  the  most  marvelous 
and  affecting  incidents,  recurred  to  those  of  Mrs.  Gray. 

"  Indeed,  doctor,  you  will  stand  glowering  out  of  the 
window  till  some  other  patient  calls  for  you,  and  then  have 
to  set  off  without  your  dinner.  And  I  hope  Mr.  Lawford 
will  take  potluck  with  us,  for  it  is  just  his  own  hour  ;  and 
indeed  we  had  something  rather  better  than  ordinary  for 
this  poor  lady — lamb  and  spinage  and  a  veal  florentine.'' 

The  surgeon  started  as  from  a  dream,  and  joined  in  his 
wife^s  hospitable  request,  to  which  Lawford  willingly  as- 
sented. 

We  will  suppose  the  meal  finished,  a  bottle  of  old  and 
generous  Antigua  upon  the  table,  and  a  modest  little  punch- 
bowl judiciously  replenished  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
doctor  and  his  guest.  Their  conversation  naturally  turned 
on  the  strange  scene  which  they  had  witnessed,  and  the 
town-clerk  took  considerable  merit  for  his  presence  of  mind. 

"I  am  thinking,  doctor,''  said  he,  ''you  might  have 
brewed  a  bitter  browst  to  yourself  if  I  had  not  come  in  as  I 
did.'' 

*'  Troth,  and  it  might  very  well  so  be,"  answered  Gray  ; 
*'  for,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  when  I  saw  yonder  fellow 
vaporing  with  his  pistols  among  the  women  folk  in  my  own 
house,  the  old  Cameronian  spirit  began  to  rise  in  me,  and 
little  thing  would  have  made  me  cleek  to  the  poker." 

''Hoot — hoot  I  that  would  never  have  done.  Na — na," 
said  the  man  of  law,  "this  was  a  case  where  a  little  prudence 
was  worth  all  the  pistols  and  pokers  in  the  world." 

"And  that  was  just  what  I  thought  when  I  sent  to  you. 
Clerk  Lawford,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  A  vi^iser  man  he  could  not  have  called  on  to  a  difficult 
case,"  added  Mrs.  Gray,  as  she  sat  with  her  work  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  table. 

"  Thanks  t'ye,  and  here's  t'ye,  my  good  neighbor,"  an- 
swered the  scribe  ;  "  will  you  not  lot  me  help  you  to  another 
glass  of  punch,  Mrs.  Gray  ?"     This  being  declined,  he  pro- 

19 


20  WA VEBLET  NOVELS 

ceeded.  **  I  am  jaloiising  that  the  messenger  and  his  war- 
rant were  just  brought  in  to  prevent  any  opposition.  Ye 
saw  how  quietly  he  behaved  after  I  had  laid  down  the  law  ; 
I'll  never  believe  the  lady  is  in  any  risk  from  him.  But  the 
father  is  a  dour  chield;  depend  upon  it,  he  has  bred  up  the 
young  filly  on  the  curb-rein,  and  that  has  made  the  poor 
thing  start  off  the  course.  I  should  not  be  surprised  that 
he  took  her  abroad  and  shut  her  up  in  a  convent." 

"  Hardly, ''  replied  Doctor  Gray,  'Mf  it  be. true,  as  I  sus- 
pect,  that  both  the  father  and  daughter  are  of  the  Jewish 
persuasion. '* 

"  A  Jew  !  '*  said  Mrs.  Gray  ;  ''  and  have  I  been  taking  a' 
this  fyke  about  a  Jew  ?  I  thought  she  seemed  to  gie  a 
scunner  at  the  eggs  and  bacon  that  Nurse  Simson  spoke 
about  to  her.  But  I  thought  Jews  had  aye  had  lang  beards, 
and  yon  man's  face  is  just  like  one  of  our  ain  folks."  I  have 
seen  the  doctor  with  a  langer  beard  himsell,  when  he  has 
not  had  leisure  to  shave.'' 

"  That  might  have  been  Mr.  Mon9ada's  case,''  said  Law- 
ford,  '^  for  he  seemed  to  have  had  a  hard  journey.  But  the 
Jews  are  often  very  respectable  people,  Mrs.  Gray  ;  they 
have  no  territorial  property,  because  the  law  is  against  them 
there,  but  they  have  a  good  hank  in  the  money  market — 
plenty  of  stock  in  the  funds,  Mrs.  Gray ;  and,  indeed,  I 
think  this  poor  young  woman  is  better  with  her  ain  father, 
though  he  be  a  Jew  and  a  dour  chield  into  the  bargain,  than 
she  would  have  been  with  the  loon  that  wranged  her,  who 
is,  by  your  account.  Dr.  Gray,  baith  a  Papist  and  a  rebel. 
The  Jews  are  well  attached  to  government ;  they  hate  the 
Pope,  the  Devil,  and  the  Pretender  as  much  as  any  honest 
man  among  ourselves." 

*'  I  cannot  admire  either  of  the  gentlemen,"  said  Gideon. 
*'  But  it  is  but  fair  to  say,  that  I  saw  Mr.  Mon9ada  when  he 
was  highly  incensed,  and  to  all  appearance  not  without 
reason.  Now,  this  other  man,  Tresham,  if  that  be  his  name, 
was  haughty  to  me,  and  I  think  something  careless  of  the 
poor  young  woman,  just  at  the  time  when  he  owed  her  most 
kindness,  and  me  some  thankfulness.  I  am,  therefore,  of 
your  opinion.  Clerk  Lawford,  that  the  Christian  is  the  worse 
bargain  of  the  two." 

*'And  you  think  of  taking  care  of  this  wean  yourself, 
doctor  ?    That  is  what  I  call  the  good  Samaritan." 

**  At  cheap  cost,  clerk  :  the  child,  if  it  lives,  has  enough 
to  bring  it  np  decently,  and  set  it  out  in  life,  and  I  can  teach 
it  an  honorable  and  useful  profession.     It  will  be  rather  an 


I 


THE  S UR GEON ' S  DAUGH TER  21 

amusement  than  a  trouble  to  me,  and  I  want  to  make  some 
remarks  on  the  childish  diseases,  which,  with  God's  blessing, 
the  child  must  come  through  under  my  charge;  and  since 
Heaven  has  sent  us  no  children " 

"Hoot — hoot!'^  said  the  town-clerk,  "you  are  in  ower 
great  a  hurry  now — you  havena  been  sae  lang  married  yet. 
Mrs.  Gray,  dinna  let  my  dafi&ng  chase  you  away  ;  we  will  be 
for  a  dish  of  tea  belive,  for  the  doctor  and  I  are  nae  glass- 
breakers." 

Four  years  after  this  conversation  took  place  the  event 
happened  at  the  possibility  of  which  the  town-clerk  had 
hinted  ;  and  Mrs.  Gray  presented  her  husband  with  an  in- 
fant daugliter.  But  good  and  evil  are  strangely  mingled  in 
this  sublunary  world.  The  fulfilment  of  this  anxious  long- 
ing for  posterity  was  attended  with  the  loss  of  his  simple 
and  kind-hearted  wife,  one  of  the  most  heavy  blows  which 
fate  could  inflict  on  poor  Gideon,  and  his  house  was  made 
desolate  even  by  the  event  which  had  promised  for  months 
before  to  add  new  comforts  to  its  humble  roof.  Gray  felt 
the  shock  as  men  of  sense  and  firmness  feel  a  decided  blow, 
from  the  effects  of  which  they  never  hope  again  fully  to 
raise  themselves.  He  discharged  the  duties  of  his  profes- 
sion with  the  same  punctuality  as  ever,  was  easy,  and  even 
to  appearance  cheerful,  in  his  intercourse  with  society  ;  but 
the  sunshine  of  existence  was  gone.  Every  morning  he 
missed  the  affectionate  charges  which  recommended  to  him 
to  pay  attention  to  his  own  health  while  he  was  laboring  to 
restore  that  blessing  to  his  patients.  Every  evening,  as  he 
returned  from  his  weary  round,  it  was  without  the  conscious- 
ness of  a  kind  and  affectionate  reception  from  one  eager  to 
tell,  and  interested  to  hear,  all  the  little  events  of  the  day. 
His  whistle,  which  used  to  arise  clear  and  strong  so  soon  as 
Middlemas  steeple  was  in  view,  was  now  forever  silenced, 
and  the  rider's  head  drooped,  while  the  tired  horse,  lacking 
the  stimulus  of  his  master's  hand  and  voice,  seemed  to 
shuffle  along  as  if  it  experienced  a  share  of  his  despondency. 
There  were  times  when  he  was  so  much  dejected  as  to  be 
unable  to  endure  even  the  presence  of  his  little  Menie,  in 
whose  infant  countenance  he  could  trace  the  lineaments  of 
the  mother,  of  whose  loss  she  had  been  the  innocent  and  un- 
conscious cause.     "  Had  it  not  been  for  this  poor  child '* 

he  would  think  ;  but,  instantly  aware  that  the  sentiment 
was  sinful,  he  would  snatch  the  infant  to  his  breast  and 
load  it  with  caresses,  then  hastily  desire  it  to  be  removed 
from  the  parlor. 


22  WAVERLET  NOVELS. 

The  Mahometans  have  a  fanciful  idea  that  the  true  be- 
liever, in  his  passage  to  Paradise,  is  under  the  necessity  of 
passing  barefooted  over  a  bridge  composed  of  red-hot  iron. 
But  on  this  occasion  all  the  pieces  of  paper  which  the  Mos- 
lem has  preserved  during  his  life,  lest  some  holy  thing  being 
written  upon  them  might  be  profaned,  arrange  themselves 
between  his  feet  and  the  burning  metal,  and  so  save  him 
from  injury.  In  the  same  manner,  the  effects  of  kind  and 
benevolent  actions  are  sometimes  found,  even  in  this  world, 
to  assuage  the  pangs  of  subsequent  afflictions. 

Thus,  the  greatest  consolation  which  poor  Gideon  could 
find  after  his  heavy  deprivation  was  in  the  frolic  fondness 
of  Richard  Middlemas,  the  child  who  was  in  so  singular  a 
manner  thrown  upon  his  charge.  Even  at  this  early  age  he 
was  eminently  handsome.  When  silent  or  out  of  humor, 
his  dark  eyes  and  striking  countenance  presented  some  recol- 
lections of  the  stern  character  imprinted  on  the  features  of 
his  supposed  father ;  but  when  he  was  gay  and  happy, 
which  was  much  more  frequently  the  case,  these  clouds  were 
exchanged  for  the  most  frolicsome,  mirthful  expression  that 
ever  dwelt  on  the  laughing  and  thoughtless  aspect  of  a  child. 
He  seemed  to  have  a  tact  beyond  his  years  in  discovering 
and  conforming  to  the  peculiarities  of  human  character. 
His  nurse,  one  prime  object  of  Eichard's  observance,  was 
Nurse  Jamieson,  or,  as  she  was  more  commonly  called  for 
brevity,  and  par  excellence,  Nurse.  This  was  the  person 
who  had  brought  him  up  from  infancy.  She  had  lost  her 
own  child,  and  soon  after  her  husband,  and  being  thus  a 
lone  woman,  had,  as  used  to  be  common  in  Scotland,  re- 
mained a  member  of  Dr.  Gray's  family.  After  the  death  of 
his  wife,  she  gradually  obtained  the  principal  superintend- 
ence of  the  whole  household  ;  and  being  an  honest  and 
capable  manager,  was  a  person  of  very  great  importance  in 
the  family. 

She  was  bold  in  her  temper,  violent  in  her  feelings,  and, 
as  often  happens  with  those  in  her  condition,  was  as  much 
attached  to  Richard  Middlemas,  whom  she  had  once  nursed 
at  her  bosom,  as  if  he  had  been  her  own  son.  This  affection 
the  child  repaid  by  all  the  tender  attention  of  which  his  age 
was  capable. 

Little  Dick  was  also  distinguished  by  the  fondest  and 
kindest  attachment  to  his  guardian  and  benefactor.  Dr. 
Gray.  He  was  officious  in  the  right  time  and  place,  quiet 
as  a  lamb  when  his  patron  seemed  inclined  to  study  or  to 
muse,  active  and  assiduous  to  assist  or  divert  him  whenever 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  28 

it  seemed  to  be  wished,  and  in  choosing  his  opportunities 
he  seemed  to  display  an  address  far  beyond  his  childish 
years. 

As  time  passed  on,  this  pleasing  character  seemed  to  be 
still  more  refined.  In  everything  like  exercise  or  amusement 
he  was  the  pride  and  the  leader  of  the  boys  of  the  place,  over 
the  most  of  whom  his  strength  and  activity  gave  him  a  de- 
cided superiority.  At  school  his  abilities  were  less  distin* 
guished,  yet  he  was  a  favorite  with  the  master,  a  sensible  and 
useful  teacher. 

''  Richard  is  not  swift, '*  he  used  to  say  to  his  patron.  Dr. 
Gray,  "  but  then  he  is  sure ;  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  be 
pleased  with  a  child  who  is  so  very  desirous  to  give  satisfac- 
tion.'' 

Young  Middlemas's  grateful  affection  to  his  patron  seemed 
to  increase  with  the  expanding  of  his  faculties,  and  found  a 
natural  and  pleasing  mode  of  displaying  itself  in  his  atten- 
tions to  little  Menie  *  Gray.  Her  slightest  hint  was  Richard's 
law,  and  it  was  in  vain  that  he  was  summoned  forth  by  a 
hundred  shrill  voices  to  take  the  lead  in  hye-spye  or  at  foot- 
ball if  it  was  little  Menie's  pleasure  that  he  should  remain 
within  and  build  card-houses  for  her  amusement.  At  other 
times,  he  would  take  the  charge  of  the  little  damsel  entirely 
under  his  own  care,  and  be  seen  wandering  with  her  on  the 
borough  common,  collecting  wild  flowers  or  knitting  caps 
made  of  bulrushes.  Menie  was  attached  to  Dick  Middlemas 
in  proportion  to  his  affectionate  assiduities  ;  and  the  father 
saw  with  pleasure  every  new  mark  of  attention  to  his  child 
on  the  part  of  his  protege. 

During  the  time  that  Richard  was  silently  advancing  from 
a  beautiful  child  into  a  fine  boy,  and  approaching  from  a 
fine  boy  to  the  time  when  he  must  be  termed  a  handsome 
youth,  Mr.  Gray  wrote  twice  a  year  with  much  regularity  to 
Mr.  Mon^ada,  through  the  channel  that  gentleman  had 
pointed  out.  The  benevolent  man  thought  that,  if  the 
wealthy  grandfather  could  only  see  his  relative,  of  whom  any 
family  might  be  proud,  he  would  be  unable  to  persevere  in 
his  resolution  of  treating  as  an  outcast  one  so  nearly  con- 
nected with  him  in  blood,  and  so  interesting  in  person  and 
disposition.  He  thought  it  his  duty,  therefore,  to  keep 
open  the  slender  and  oblique  communication  with  the  boy's 
maternal  grandfather,  as  that  which  might,  at  some  future 
period,  lead  to  a  closer  connection.  Yet  the  correspondence 
could  not,  in  other  respects,  be  agreeable  to  a  man  of  spirit 

*  Marion- 


24  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

like  Mr.  Gray.  His  own  letters  were  as  short  as  possible, 
merely  rendering  an  account  of  his  ward's  expenses,  includ 
ing  a  moderate  board  to  himself,  attested  by  Mr.  Lawford, 
his  co-trustee  ;  and  intimating  Richard's  state  of  health,  and 
his  progress  in  education,  with  a  few  words  of  brief  but 
warm  eulogy  upon  his  goodness  of  head  and  heart.  But  the 
answers  he  received  were  still  shorter.  ''Mr.  Mon9ada," 
such  was  their  usual  tenor,  *'  acknowledges  Mr.  Gray's  letter 
of  such  a  date,  notices  the  contents,  and  requests  Mr.  Gray 
to  persist  in  the  plan  which  he  has  hitherto  prosecuted  on 
the  subject  of  their  correspondence."  On  occasions  where 
extraordinary  expenses  seemed  likely  to  be  incurred,  the  re- 
mittances were  made  with  readiness. 

That  day  fortnight  after  Mrs.  Gray's  death,  fifty  pounds 
were  received,  with  a  note,  intimating  that  it  was  designed 
to  put  the  child  R.  M.  into  proper  mourning.  The  writer 
had  added  two  or  three  words,  desiring  that  the  surplus 
should  be  at  Mr.  Gray's  disposal,  to  meet  the  additional  ex- 
penses of  this  period  of  calamity  ;  but  Mr.  Mon9ada  had 
left  the  phrase  unfinished,  apparently  in  despair  of  turning 
it  suitably  into  English.  Gideon,  without  farther  investiga- 
tion, quietly  added  the  sum  to  the  account  of  his  ward's 
little  fortune,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Lawford,  who, 
aware  that  he  was  rather  a  loser  than  a  gainer  by  the  boy's 
residence  in  his  house,  was  desirous  that  his  friend  should 
not  omit  an  opportunity  of  recovering  some  part  of  his  ex- 
penses on  that  score.  Sut  Gray  was  proof  against  all  re- 
monstrance. 

As  the  boy  advanced  towards  his  fourteenth  year.  Dr. 
Gray  wrote  a  more  elaborate  account  of  his  ward's  character, 
acquirements,  and  capacity.  He  added,  that  he  did  this  for 
the  purpose  of  enabling  Mr.  Mon9ada  to  judge  how  the 
young  man's  future  education  should  be  directed.  Richard, 
he  observed,  was  arrived  at  the  point  where  education,  losing 
its  original  and  general  character,  branches  oif  into  different 
paths  of  knowledge,  suitable  to  particular  professions,  and 
when  it  was  therefore  become  necessary  to  determine  which 
of  them  it  was  his  pleasure  that  young  Richard  should  be 
trained  for  ;  and  he  would,  on  his  part,  do  all  he  could  to 
carry  Mr.  Mon9ada's  wishes  into  execution,  since  the  amiable 
qualities  of  the  boy  made  him  as  dear  to  him,  though  but  a 
guardian,  as  he  could  have  been  to  his  own  father. 

The  answer,  which  arrived  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  ten 
days,  was  fuller  than  usual,  and  written  in  the  first  person. 
**  Mr.  Gray,"  such  was  the  tenor,  "  our  meeting  has  been 


I 


THE  S  UBGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  25 

under  snch  circumstances  as  could  not  make  us  favorably 
known  to  each  other  at  the  time.  But  I  have  the  advantage 
of  you  since,  knowing  your  motives  for  entertaining  an  in- 
different opinion  of  me,  I  could  respect  them,  and  you  at 
the  same  time  ;  whereas  you,  unable  to  comprehend  the 
motives — I  say,  you,  being  unacquainted  with  the  infamous 
treatment  I  had  received,  could  not  understand  the  reasons 
that  I  have  for  acting  as  I  have  done.  Deprived,  sir,  by  the 
act  of  a  villain,  of  my  child,  and  she  despoiled  of  honor,  I 
cannot  bring  myself  to  think  of  beholding  the  creature, 
however  innocent,  whose  look  must  always  remind  me  of 
hatred  and  of  shame.  Keep  the  poor  child  by  you,  educate 
him  to  your  own  profession,  but  take  heed  that  he  looks  no 
higher  than  to  fill  such  a  situation  in  life  as  you  yourself 
worthily  occupy,  or  some  other  line  of  like  importance. 
For  the  condition  of  a  farmer,  a  country  lawyer,  a  medical 
practitioner,  or  some  such  retired  course  of  life,  the 
means  of  outfit  and  education  shall  be  amply  supplied.  But 
I  must  warn  him  and  you  that  any  attempt  to  intrude  him- 
self on  me  further  than  I  may  especially  permit  will  be 
attended  with  the  total  forfeiture  of  my  favor  and  protection. 
So,  having  made  known  my  mind  to  you,  I  expect  you  will 
act  accordingly." 

The  receipt  of  this  letter  determined  Gideon  to  have  some 
explanation  with  the  boy  himself,  in  order  to  learn  if  he  had 
any  choice  among  the  professions  thus  opened  to  him  ;  con- 
vinced, at  the  same  time,  from  his  docility  of  temper,  that 
he  would  refer  the  selection  to  his  (Dr.  Gray's)  better  judg- 
ment. 

He  had  previously,  however,  the  unpleasing  task  of  ac- 
quainting Richard  Sliddlemas  with  the  mysterious  circum- 
stances attending  his  birth,  of  which  he  presumed  him  to  be 
entirely  ignorant,  simply  because  he  himself  had  never  com- 
municated them,  but  had  let  the  boy  consider  himself  as  the 
orphan  child  of  a  distant  relation.  But  though  the  doctor 
himself  was  silent,  he  might  have  remembered  that  Nurse 
Jamieson  had  the  handsome  enjoyment  of  her  tongue,  and 
was  disposed  to  use  it  liberally. 

From  a  very  early  period  Nurse  Jamieson,  amongst  the 
variety  of  legendary  lore  which  she  instilled  into  her  foster- 
son,  had  not  forgotten  what  she  called  the  awful  season  of 
his  coming  into  the  world  ;  the  personable  appearance  of  his 
father,  a  grand  gentleman,  who  looked  as  if  the  whole  world 
lay  at  his  feet ;  the  beauty  of  his  mother,  and  the  terrible 
blackness  of  the  mask  which  she  more,  her  een  that  glanced 


26  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

like  diamonds,  and  the  diamonds  she  wore  on  her  fingers, 
that  could  be  compared  to  nothing  but  her  own  een,  the 
fairness  of  her  skin,  and  the  color  of  her  silk  rokelay,  with 
much  proper  stuff  to  the  same  purpose.  Then  she  expatiated 
on  the  arrival  of  his  grandfather,  and  the  awful  man,  armed 
with  pistol,  dirk,  and  claymore  (the  last  weapons  existed 
only  in  Nurse's  imagination),  the  very  ogre  of  a  fairy  tale  ; 
then  all  the  circumstances  of  the  carrying  off  his  mother, 
while  bank-notes  were  flying  about  the  house  like  screeds  of 
brown  paper,  and  gold  guineas  were  as  plenty  as  chuckie- 
stanes.  All  this,  partly  to  please  and  interest  the  boy,  partly 
to  indulge  her  own  talent  for  amplification.  Nurse  told  with 
so  many  additional  circumstances  and  gratuitous  commen- 
taries, that  the  real  transaction,  mysterious  and  odd  as  it 
certainly  was,  sunk  into  tameness  before  the  nurse's  edition, 
like  humble  prose  contrasted  with  the  boldest  fiights  of 
poetry. 

To  hear  all  this  did  Kichard  seriously  incline,  and  still 
more  was  he  interested  with  the  idea  of  his  valiant  father 
coming  for  him  unexpectedly  at  the  head  of  a  gallant  regi- 
ment, with  music  playing  and  colors  flying,  and  carrying  his 
son  away  on  the  most  beautiful  pony  eyes  ever  beheld  ;  or 
his  mother,  bright  as  the  day,  might  suddenly  appear  in  her 
coach-and-six,  to  reclaim  her  beloved  child  ;  or  his  repentant 
grandfather,  with  his  pockets  stuffed  out  with  bank- 
notes, would  come  to  atone  for  his  past  cruelty,  by  heaping 
his  neglected  grandchild  with  unexpected  wealth.  Sure 
was  Nurse  Jamieson  '*  that  it  wanted  but  a  blink  of  her 
bairn's  bonny  ee  to  turn  their  hearts,  as  Scripture  sayeth  ; 
and  as  strange  things  had  been,  as  they  should  come  a'the- 
gither  to  the  town  at  the  same  time,  and  make  such  a  day 
as  had  never  been  seen  in  Middlemas  ;  and  then  her  bairn 
would  never  be  called  by  that  Lowland  name  of  Middlemas 
any  more,  which  sounded  as  if  it  had  been  gathered  out  of 
the  town  gutter  ;  but  would  be  called  Galatian,*  or  Sir  Wil- 
liam Wallace,  or  Robin  Eood,  or  after  some  other  of  the 
great  princes  named  in  story-books." 

Nurse  Jamieson's  history  of  the  past  and  prospects  of  the 
future  were  too  flattering  not  to  excite  the  most  ambitious 
visions  in  the  mind  of  a  boy  who  naturally  felt  a  strong 
desire  of  rising  in  the  world,  and  was  conscious  of  possessing 
the  powers  necessary  to  his  advancement.  The  incidents  of 
his  birth  resembled  those  he  found  commemorated  in  the 

•  Galatian  is  a  name  of  a  person  famous  in  Christmas  gambols. 


THE  SUBGEON'S  DAUGHTER  29 

tales  which  he  read  or  listened  to  ;  and  there  seemed  no 
reason  why  his  own  adventures  should  not  have  a  termination 
corresponding  to  those  of  such  veracious  histories.  In  a 
word,  while  good  Doctor  Gray  imagined  that  his  pupil  was 
dwelling  in  utter  ignorance  of  his  origin,  Richard  was  med- 
itating upon  nothing  else  than  the  time  and  means  by  which 
he  anticipated  his  being  extricated  from  the  obscurity  of 
his  present  condition,  and  enable  to  assume  the  rank  to 
which,  in  his  own  opinion,  he  was  entitled  by  birth. 

So  stood  the  feelings  of  the  young  man,  when,  one  day 
after  dinner,  the  doctor,  snuffing  the  candle,  and  taking 
from  his  pouch  the  great  leathern  pocket-book  in  which  he 
deposited  particular  papers,  with  a  small  supply  of  the  most 
necessary  and  active  medicines,  he  took  from"  it  Mr.  Mon- 
^ada^s  letter,  and  requested  Richard  Middlemas's  serious 
attention,  while  he  told  him  some  circumstances  concerning 
himself,  which  it  greatly  imported  him  to  know.  Richard's 
dark  eyes  flashed  fire,  the  blood  flushed  his  broad  and  well- 
formed  forehead — the  hour  of  explanation  was  at  length  come. 
He  listened  to  the  narrative  of  Gideon  Gray,  which,  the  reader 
may  believe,  being  altogether  divested  of  the  gilding  which 
Nurse  Jamieson's  imagination  had  bestowed  upon  it,  and 
reduced  to  what  mercantile  men  termed  the  **  needful,"  ex- 
hibited little  more  than  the  tale  of  a  child  of  shame,  deserted 
by  its  father  and  mother,  and  brought  up  on  the  reluctant 
charity  of  a  more  distant  relation,  who  regarded  him  as  the 
living,  though  unconscious,  evidence  of  the  disgrace  of  his 
family,  and  would  more  willingly  have  paid  for  the  expenses 
of  his  funeral  than  that  of  the  food  which  was  grudgingly 
provided  for  him.  "  Temple  and  tower,"  a  hundred  flatter- 
ing edifices  of  Richard's  childish  imagination,  went  to  the 
ground  at  once,  and  the  pain  which  attended  their  demoli- 
tion was  rendered  the  more  acute  by  a  sense  of  shame  that 
he  should  have  nursed  such  reveries.  He  remained,  while 
Gideon  continued  his  explanation,  in  a  dejected  posture,  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  and  the  veins  of  his  forehead 
swollen  with  contending  passions. 

*'  And  now,  my  dear  Richard,"  said  the  good  surgeon, 
''  you  must  think  what  you  can  do  for  yourself,  since  your 
grandfather  leaves  you  the  choice  of  three  honorable  profes- 
sions, by  any  of  which,  well  and  wisely  prosecuted,  you  may 
become  independent  if  not  wealthy,  and  respectable  if  not 
great.  You  will  naturally  desire  a  little  time  for  consid- 
eration." 

"  Not  a  minute,"  said  the  boy,  raising  his  head  and  look* 


id  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

ing  boldly  at  his  guardian.  "  I  am  a  free-born  Englishman, 
and  will  return  to  England  if  I  think  fit." 

"  A  free-born  fool  you  are,"  said  Gray.  "  You  were  born, 
as  I  think,  and  no  one  can  know  better  than  I  do,  in  the 
blue  room  of  Stevenlaw's  Land,  in  the  townhead  of  Middle- 
mas,  if  you  call  that  being  a  free-born  Englishman." 

"  But  Tom  Hillary  " — this  was  an  apprentice  of  Clerk 
Lawford,  who  had  of  late  been  a  great  friend  and  adviser  of 
young  Middlemas— "  Tom  Hillary  says  that  I  am  a  free-born 
Englishman,  notwithstanding,  in  right  of  my  parents." 

"  Pooh,  child  !  what  do  we  know  of  your  parents  ?  But 
what  has  your  being  an  Englishman  to  do  with  the  present 
question  ?  " 

"Oh,  doctor!"  answered  the  boy,  bitterly,  *^you  know 
we  from  the  south  side  of  Tweed  cannot  scramble  so  hard  as 
you  do.  The  Scots  are  too  moral,  and  too  prudent,  and  too 
robust  for  a  poor  pudding-eater  to  live  amongst  them, 
whether  as  a  parson,  or  as  a  lawyer,  or  as  a  doctor — with 
your  pardon,  sir." 

*'Upon  my  life,  Dick,"  said  Gray,  "this  Tom  Hillary 
will  turn  your  brain.  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this 
trash?" 

"  Tom  Hillary  says  that  the  parson  lives  by  the  sins  of 
the  people,  the  lawyer  by  their  distresses,  and  the  doctor  by 
their  diseases — always  asking  your  pardon,  sir." 

"  Tom  Hillary,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  should  be  drummed 
out  of  the  borough.  A  whipper-snapper  of  an  attorney's 
apprentice,  run  away  from  Newcastle  !  If  1  hear  him  talk- 
ing so,  rU  teach  him  to  speak  with  more  reverence  of  the 
learned  professions.  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  Tom  Hillary, 
whom  you  have  seen  far  too  much  of  lately.  Think  a  little, 
like  a  lad  of  sense,  and  tell  me  what  answer  I  am  to  give 
Mr.  Mon9ada." 

"  Tell  him,"  said  the  boy,  the  tone  of  affected  sarcasm 
laid  aside,  and  that  of  injured  pride  substituted  in  its  room 
— "  tell  him  that  my  soul  revolts  at  the  obscure  lot  he 
recommends  to  me.  I  am  determined  to  enter  my  father's 
profession,  the  army,  unless  my  grandfather  chooses  to  re- 
ceive me  into  his  house  and  place  me  in  his  own  line  of 
business." 

"  Yes,  and  make  you  his  partner,  I  suppose,  and  ac- 
knowledge you  for  his  heir?  said  Dr.  Gray;  "a  thing 
extremely  likely  to  happen,  no  doubt,  considering  the  way 
in  which  he  has  brought  you  up  all  along,  and  the  terms  iu 
which  he  now  writes  concerning  you." 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  29 

"Then,  sir,  there  is  one  thing  which  I  can  demand  of 
you,"  replied  the  boy.  *'  There  is  a  large  sum  of  money  in 
your  hands  belonging  to  me  ;  and  since  it  is  consigned,  to 
you  for  my  use,  1  demand  you  should  make  the  necessary 
advances  to  procure  a  commission  in  the  army,  account  to 
me  for  the  balance  ;  and  so,  with  thanks  for  past  favors,  I 
will  give  you  no  trouble  in  future." 

*'  Young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely,  "  I  am  very  sor- 
ry to  see  that  your  usual  prudence  and  good  humor  are  not 
proof  against  the  disappointment  of  some  idle  expectations 
which  you  had  not  the  slighest  reason  to  entertain.  It  is 
very  true  that  there  is  a  sum  which,  in  spite  of  various  ex- 
penses, may  still  approach  to  a  thousand  pounds  or  better, 
which  remains  in  my  hands  for  your  behoof.  But  I  am 
bound  to  dispose  of  it  according  to  the  will  of  the  donor; 
and,  at  any  rate,  you  are  not  entitled  to  call  for  it  until  you 
come  to  years  of  discretion — a  period  from  which  you  are  six 
years  distant  according  to  law,  and  which,  in  one  sense, 
you  will  never  reach  at  all,  unless  you  alter  your  present 
unreasonable  crochets.  But  come,  Dick,  this  is  the  first 
time  I  have  seen  you  in  so  absurd  a  humor,  and  you  have 
many  things,  I  own,  in  your  situation  to  apologize  for  im- 
patience even  greater  than  you  have  displayed.  But  you 
should  not  turn  your  resentment  on  me,  that  am  no  way 
in  fault.  You  should  remember  that  I  was  your  earliest 
and  only  friend,  and  took  charge  of  you  when  every  other 
person  forsook  you.*' 

*'  I  do  not  thank  you  for  it,"  said  Richard,  giving  way 
to  a  burst  of  uncontrolled  passion.  *'You  might  have 
done  better  for  me  had  you  pleased." 

*' And  in  what  manner,  you  ungrateful  boy?"  said 
Gray,  whose  composure  was  a  little  ruffled. 

"You  might  have  flung  me  under  the  wheels  of  their 
carriages  as  they  drove  off,  and  have  let  them  trample  on 
the  body  of  their  child,  as  they  have  done  on  his  feelings." 

So  saying,  he  rushed  out  of  the  room,  and  shut  the 
door  behind  him  with  great  violence,  leaving  his  guardian 
astonished  at  his  sudden  and  violent  change  of  temper 
and  manner. 

"What  the  deuce  could  have  possessed  him  ?  Ah,  well. 
High  spirited,  and  disappointed  in  some  follies  which 
that  Tom  Hillary  has  put  into  his  head.  But  his  is  a 
case  for  anodynes,  and  shall  be  treated  accordingly." 

While  the  doctor  formed  this  good-natured  resolution, 
young  Middlemas  rushed   to  Nurse  Jamieson's  apartment, 


30  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

where  poor  Menie,  to  whom  his  presence  always  gave 
holyday  feelings,  hastened  to  exhibit  for  his  admiration  a 
new  doll,  of  which  she  had  made  the  acquisition.  No 
one,  generally,  was  more  interested  in  Menie's  amusements 
than  Richard ;  but  at  present  Richard,  like  his  celebrated 
namesake,  was  not  i'  the  vein.  He  threw  off  the  little  damsel 
so  carelessly,  almost  so  rudely,  that  the  doll  flew  out  of  Menie's 
hand,  fell  on  the  hearthstone,  and  broke  its  waxen  face. 
The  rudeness  drew  from  Nurse  Jamieson  a  rebuke,  even 
although  the  culprit  was  her  darling. 

*'  Hout  awa',  Richard,  that  wasna  like  yoursell,  to  guide 
Miss  Menie  that  gate.  Hand  your  tongue,  Miss  Menie,  and 
I'll  soon  mend  the  baby's  face." 

But  if  Menie  cried,  she  did  not'cry  for  the  doll ;  and  while 
the  tears  flowed  silently  down  her  cheeks,  she  sat  looking  at 
Dick  Middlemas  with  a  childish  face  of  fear,  sorrow  and 
wonder.  Nurse  Jamieson  was  soon  diverted  from  her  atten- 
tion to  Menie  Gray's  distresses,  especially  as  she  did  not 
weep  aloud,  and  her  attention  became  fixed  on  the  altered 
countenance,  red  eyes,  and  swollen  features  of  her  darling 
foster-child.  She  instantly  commenced  an  investigation  in- 
to the  cause  of  his  distress,  after  the  usual  inquisitorial 
manner  of  matrons  of  her  class.  "  What  is  the  matter  wi' 
my  bairn  ?  "  and  *'  Wha  has  been  vexing  my  bairn  ?  "  with 
similar  questions,  at  last  extorted  this  reply — 

"  I  am  not  your  bairn — I  am  no  one's  bairn — no  one's  son. 
I  am  an  outcast  from  my  family,  and  belong  to  no  one.  Dr. 
Gray  has  told  me  so  himself." 

"  And  did  he  cast  up  to  my  bairn  that  he  was  a  bastard  ? 
Troth  he  wasna  blate.  My  certie,  your  father  was  a  better 
man  than  ever  stood  on  the  doctor's  shanks — a  handsome 
grand  gentleman,  with  an  ee  like  a  gled's  and  a  step  like  a 
Highland  piper." 

Nurse  Jamieson  had  got  on  a  favorite  topic,  and  would 
have  expatiated  long  enough,  for  she  was  a  prof essed  admirer 
of  masculine  beauty,  but  there  was  something  which  dis* 
pleased  the  boy  in  her  last  simile  ;  so  he  cut  the  conversa- 
tion short  by  asking  whether  she  knew  exactly  how  much 
money  his  grandfather  had  left  with  Dr.  Gray  for  his  main- 
tenance. *'  She  could  not  say — didna  ken — an  awfu'  sum 
it  was  to  pass  out  of  a  man's  hand.  She  was  sure  it  wasna 
less  than  ae  hundred  pounds,  and  it  might  weel  be  twa." 
In  short,  she  knew  nothing  about  the  matter  ;  **  but  she  was 
sure  Dr.  Gray  would  count  to  him  to  the  last  farthing,  for 
everybody  kenn'd  that  he  was  a  just  man  where  siller  was 


TEE  S URGEON ' S  BA  UGHTER  31 

concerned.  However,  if  her  bairn  wanted  to  ken  mair 
about  it,  to  be  sure  the  town-clerk  could  tell  him  all 
about  it." 

Eichard  Middlemas  arose  and  left  the  apartment,  with- 
out saying  more.  He  went  immediately  to  visit  the  old 
town-clerk,  to  whom  he  had  made  himself  acceptable,  as  in- 
deed he  had  done  to  most  of  the  dignitaries  about  the 
burgh.  He  introduced  the  conversation  by  the  proposal 
which  had  been  made  to  him  for  choosing  a  profession, 
and  after  speaking  of  the  mysterious  circumstances  of  his 
birth  and  the  doubtful  prosj^ects  which  lay  before  him,  he 
easily  led  the  town-clerk  into  conversation  as  to  the  amount  of 
the  funds,  and  heard  the  exact  state  of  the  money  in  his  guar- 
dian's hands,  which  corresponded  with  the  information  he 
had  already  received.  He  next  sounded  the  worthy  scribe 
on  the  possibility  of  his  going  into  the  army  ;  but  received 
a  second  confirmation  of  the  intelligence  Mr.  Gray  had 
given  him,  being  informed  that  no  part  of  the  money 
could  be  placed  at  his  disposal  till  he  was  of  age,  and 
Chen  not  without  the  especial  consent  of  both  his  guar- 
dians, and  particularly  that  of  his  master.  He  therefore 
took  leave  of  the  town-clerk,  who,  much  approving  the 
cautious  manner  in  which  he  spoke,  and  his  prudent  selec- 
tion of  an  adviser  at  this  important  crisis  of  his  life, 
intimated  to  him  that,  should  he  choose  the  law,  he  would 
himself  receive  him  into  his  office  upon  a  very  moderate 
apprentice-fee,  and  would  part  with  Tom  Hillary  to  make 
room  for  him,  as  the  lad  was  "rather  pragmatical,  and 
plagued  him  with  speaking  about  his  English  practise  which 
they  had  nothing  to  do  with  on  this  side  of  the  Border — the 
Lord  be  thanked  ! " 

Middlemas  thanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  promised 
to  consider  his  kind  offer,  in  case  he  should  determine  upon 
following  the  profession  of  the  law. 

From  Tom  Hillary^s  master,  Eichard  went  to  Tom  Hillary 
himself,  who  chanced  then  to  be  in  the  office.  He  was  a 
lad  about  twenty,  as  smart  as  small,  but  distinguished  for 
the  accuracy  with  which  he  dressed  his  hair,  and  the  splen- 
dor of  a  laced  hat  and  embroidered  waistcoat,  with  which  he 
graced  the  church  of  Middlemas  on  Sundays.  Tom  Hillary 
had  been  bred  an  attorney's  clerk  in  Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 
but,  for  some  reason  or  other,  had  found  it  more  conevenient 
of  late  years  to  reside  in  Scotland,  and  was  recommended  to 
the  town-clerk  of  Middlemas  by  the  accuracy  and  beauty 
ifith  which  he  transcribed  the  records  of  the  burgh.     It  is 


32  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

not  improbable  that  the  reports  concerning  the  singular  cir- 
cumstances of  Richard  Middlemas's  birth,  and  the  knowledge 
that  he  was  actually  possessed  of  a  considerable  sum  of 
money,  induced  Hillary,  though  so  much  his  senior,  to  admit 
the  lad  to  his  company,  and  enrich  his  youthful  mind  with 
some  branches  of  information  which,  in  that  retired  corner, 
his  pupil  might  otherwise  have  been  some  time  in  attaining. 
Amongst  these  were  certain  games  at  cards  and  dice,  in 
which  the  pupil  paid,  as  was  reasonable,  the  price  of  initia- 
tion by  his  losses  to  his  instructor.  After  a  long  walk  with 
this  youngster,  whose  advice,  like  the  unwise  son  of  the 
wisest  of  men,  he  probably  valued  more  than  that  of  his 
more  aged  counselors,  Richard  Middlemas  returned  to  his 
lodgings  in  Stevenlaw's  Land,  and  went  to  bed  sad  and  sup- 
perless. 

The  next  morning  Richard  arose  with  the  sun,  and  his 
night's  rest  appeared  to  have  had  its  frequent  effect,  in  cool- 
ing the  passions  and  correcting  the  understanding.  Little 
Menie  was  thefirst  person  to  whom  he  made  the  ame7ide 
honorable  ;  and  a  much  smaller  propitiation  than  the  new 
doll  with  which  he  presented  her  would  have  been  accepted 
as  an  atonement  for  a  much  greater  offense.  Menie  was 
one  of  those  pure  spirits  to  whom  a  state  of  unkindness,  if 
the  estranged  person  has  been  a  friend,  is  a  state  of  pain, 
and  the  slightest  advance  of  her  friend  and  protector  was 
sufficient  to  regain  all  her  childish  confidence  and  affection. 

The  father  did  not  prove  more  inexorable  than  Menie  had 
done.  Mr.  Gray,  indeed,  thought  he  had  good  reason  to 
look  cold  upon  Richard  at  their  next  meeting,  being  not  a 
little  hurt  at  the  ungrateful  treatment  which  he  had  re- 
ceived on  the  preceding  evening.  But  Middlemas  disarmed 
him  at  once  by  frankly  pleading  that  he  had  suffered  his 
mind  to  be  carried  away  by  the  supposed  rank  and  impor- 
tance of  his  parents  into  an  idle  conviction  that  he  was  on© 
day  to  share  them.  The  letter  of  his  grandfather,  which 
condemned  him  to  banishment  and  obscurity  for  life,  was,  he 
acknowledged,  a  very  severe  blow ;  and  it  was  with  deep  sorrow 
that  he  reflected  that  the  irritation  of  his  disappointment  had 
led  him  to  express  himself  in  a  manner  far  short  of  the  re- 
spect and  reverence  of  one  who  owed  Mr.  Gray  the  duty  and 
affection  of  a  son,  and  ought  to  refer  to  his  decision  Qyecy 
action  of  his  life.  Gideon,  propitiated  by  an  admission  so 
candid,  and  made  with  so  much  humility,  readily  dismissed 
his  resentment,  and  kindly  inquired  of  Richard  whether  h« 
had  bestowed  any  reflection  upon  the  choice  oJT  prof:e8sioa 


THE  S URGEON  '  S  DA  UGHTER  38 

which  had  been  subjected  to  him  ;  offering,  at  the  same  time, 
to  allow  him  all  resonable  time  to  make  up  his  mind. 

On  this  subject,  Richard  Middlemas  answered  with  the 
same  promptitude  and  candor.  ''  He  had/*  he  said,  "  in 
order  to  forming  his  opinion  more  safely,  consulted  with  his 
friend,  the  town-clerk.^*  The  doctor  nodded  approbation. 
"  Mr.  Lawford  had,  indeed,  been  most  friendly,  and  had 
even  offered  to  take  him  into  his  own  office.  But  if  his 
father  and  benefactor  would  permit  him  to  study,  under  his 
instructions,  the  noble  art  in  which  he  himself  enjoyed  such 
a  deserved  reputation,  the  mere  hope  that  he  might  by  and 
by  be  of  some  use  to  Mr.  Gray  in  his  business  would  greatly 
overbalance  every  other  consideration.  Such  a  course  of 
education,  and  such  a  use  of  professional  knowledge  when 
he  had  acquired  it  would  be  a  greater  spur  to  his  industry 
than  the  prospect  even  of  becoming  town-clerk  of  Middlemas 
in  his  proper  person.** 

As  the  young  man  expressed  it  to  be  his  firm  and  unalter- 
able choice  to  study  medicine  under  his  guardian,  and  to 
remain  a  member  of  his  family.  Dr.  Gray  informed  Mr. 
Mon9ada  of  the  lad*s  determination  ;  who,  to  testify  his  ap- 
probation, remitted  to  the  doctor  the  sum  of  £100  as  appren- 
tice-fee— a  sum  nearly  three  times  as  much  as  Gray*s  modesty 
had  hinted  at  as  necessary. 

Shortly  after,  when  Dr.  Gray  and  the  town-clerk  met  at 
the  small  club  of  the  burgh,  their  joint  theme  was  the  sense 
and  steadiness  of  Richard  Middlemas. 

"  Indeed,**  said  the  town-clerk,  "  he  is  such  a  friendly  and 
disinterested  boy,  that  I  could  not  get  him  to  accept  a  place 
in  my  office  for  fear  he  should  be  thought  to  be  pushing  him- 
self forward  at  the  expense  of  Tam  Hillary." 

''  And,  indeed,  clerk,**  said  Gray,  "  I  have  sometimes  been 
afraid  that  he  kept  too  much  company  with  that  Tam  Hil- 
lary of  yours  ;  but  twenty  Tam  Hillarys  would  not  corrupt 
Dick  Middlemas." 


CHAPTER  m 

Dick  was  come  to  high  renown 
Since  he  commenced  physician  ; 

Tom  was  held  by  all  the  town 
The  better  politician. 

Tom  and  Dick, 

At  the  same  poriod  when  Dr.  Gray  took  under  his  charge 
his  youthful  lodger  Eichard  Middlemas,  he  received  pro- 
posals from  the  friends  of  one  Adam  Hartley  to  receive 
him  also  as  an  apprentice.  The  lad  was  the  son  of  a  respect- 
able farmer  on  the  English  side  of  the  Border,  who,  educat- 
ing his  eldest  son  to  his  own  occupation,  desired  to  make 
his  second  a  medical  man,  in  order  to  avail  himself  of  the 
friendship  of  a  great  man,  his  landlord,  who  had  offered  to 
assist  his  views  in  life,  and  represented  a  doctor  or  surgeon 
as  the  sort  of  person  to  whose  advantage  his  interest  could 
he  most  readily  applied.  Middlemas  and  Hartly  were  there- 
fore associated  in  their  studies.  In  winter  they  were  boarded 
in  Edinburgh,  for  attending  the  medical  classes,  which  were 
necessary  for  taking  their  degree.  Three  or  four  years  thus 
passed  on,  and,  from  being  mere  boys,  the  two  medical  as- 
pirants shot  up  into  young  men,  who,  being  both  very  good- 
looking,  well  dressed,  well  bred,  and  having  money  in  their 
pockets,  became  personages  of  some  importance  in  the  little 
town  of  Middlemas,  where  there  was  scarce  anything  that 
could  be  termed  an  aristocracy,  and  in  which  beaux  were 
scarce  and  belles  were  plenty. 

Each  of  the  two  had  his  especial  partisans ;  for,  though 
the  young  men  themselves  lived  in  tolerable  harmony  to- 
gether, yet,  as  usual  in  such  cases,  no  one  could  approve 
of  one  of  them  without  at  the  same  time  comparing  him 
with,  and  asserting  his  superiority  over,  his  companion. 

Both  were  gay,  fond  of  dancing,  and  sedulous  attendants 
on  the  *'  practeezings,"  as  he  called  them,  of  Mr.  M'Fittoch, 
a  dancing-master  who,  itinerant  during  the  summer,  became 
stationary  in  the  winter  season,  and  afforded  the  youth  of 
Middlemas  the  benefit  of  his  instructions  at  the  rate  of  twenty 
lessons  for  five  shillings  sterling.     On  these  occasions  eacn 

84 


THE  S URGEON  '  S  DA  UGHTER  35 

of  Dr.  Gray's  pupils  had  his  appropriate  praise.  Hartley 
danced  with  most  spirit,  Middlemas  with  a  better  grace. 
Mr.  MTittoch  would  have  turned  out  Richard  against  the 
countryside  in  the  minuet,  and  wagered  the  thing  dearest 
to  him  in  the  world,  and  that  was  his  kit,  upon  his  assured 
superiority  ;  but  he  admitted  Hartley  was  superior  to  him 
in  hornpipe,  jigs,  strathspeys,  and  reels. 

In  dress  Hartley  was  most  expensive,  perhaps  because  his 
father  afforded  him  better  means  of  being  so  ;  but  his  clothes 
were  neither  so  tasteful  when  new  nor  so  well  preserved  when 
they  began  to  grow  old  as  those  of  Richard  Middlemas. 
Adam  Hartley  was  sometimes  fine,  at  other  times  rather 
slovenly,  and  on  the  former  occasions  was  rather  too  conscious 
of  his  splendor.  His  chum  was  at  all  times  regularly 
neat  and  well  dressed  ;  while  at  the  same  time  he  had  an  air 
of  good-breeding,  which  made  him  appear  always  at  ease  ; 
so  that  his  dress,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  to  be  just  what  he 
ought  to  have  worn  at  the  time. 

In  their  persons  there  was  a  still  more  strongly-marked 
distinction.  Adam  Hartley  was  full  middle-size,  stout,  and 
well-limbed  ;  and  an  open  English  countenance,  of  the  genu- 
ine Saxon  mold,  showed  itself  among  chestnut  locks  until 
the  hairdresser  destroyed  them.  He  loved  the  rough  exer- 
cises of  wrestling,  boxing,  leaping,  and  quarter-staff,  and 
frequented,  when  he  could  obtain  leisure,  the  bull-baitings 
and  football  matches  by  which  the  burgh  was  sometimes 
enlivened. 

Richard,  on  the  contrary,  was  dark,  like  his  father  and 
mother,  with  high  features,  beautifully  formed,  but  exhibit- 
ing something  of  a  foreign  character  ;  and  his  person  was 
tall  and  slim,  though  muscular  and  active.  His  address  and 
manners  must  have  been  natural  to  him,  for  they  were,  in 
elegance  and  ease,  far  beyond  any  example  which  he  could 
have  found  in  his  native  burgh.  He  learned  the  use  of  the 
small-sword  while  in  Edinburgh,  and  took  lessons  from  a  per- 
former at  the  theater,  with  the  purpose  of  refining  his  mode 
of  speaking.  He  became  also  an  amateur  of  the  drama, 
regularly  attending  the  playhouse,  and  assuming  the  tone 
of  a  critic  in  that  and  other  lighter  departments  of  literature- 
To  fill  up  the  contrast,  so  far  as  taste  was  concerned,  Rich- 
ard was  a  dexterous  and  successful  angler,  Adam  a  bold  and 
unerring  shot.  Their  efforts  to  surpass  each  other  in 
supplying  Dr.  Gray's  table  rendered  his  housekeeping  much 
preferable  to  what  it  had  been  on  former  occasions  ;  and, 
tesides,  small  presents  of  fish  and  game  are  always  agreeable 


m  WAVERLEY  N0VEL8 

amongst  the  inhabitants  of  a  country  town,  and  contributed 
to  increase  the  popularity  of  the  young  sportsmen. 

While  the  burgh  was  divided,  for  lack  of  better  subject  of 
disputation,  concerning  the  comparative  merits  of  Dr.  Gray's 
two  apprentices,  he  himself  was  sometimes  chosen  the  referee. 
But  in  this,  as  on  other  matters,  the  doctor  was  cautious. 
He  said  the  lads  were  both  good  lads,  and  would  be  useful 
men  in  the  profession  if  their  heads  were  not  carried  with 
the  notice  which  the  foolish  people  of  the  burgh  took  of 
them,  and  the  parties  of  pleasure  that  were  so  often  taking 
them  away  from  their  business.  No  doubt  it  was  natural 
for  him  to  feel  more  confidence  in  Hartley,  who  came  of 
**  kenned  folk,''  and  was  very  near  as  good  as  a  born  Scotch- 
man. But  if  he  did  feel  such  a  partiality,  he  blamed  himself 
for  it,  since  the  stranger  child,  so  oddly  cast  upon  his  hands, 
had  peculiar  good  right  to  such  patronage  and  affection  as 
he  had  to  bestow  ;  and  truly  the  young  man  himself  seemed 
so  grateful  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  hint  the  slight- 
est wish  that  Dick  Middlemas  did  not  hasten  to  execute. 

There  were  persons  in  the  burgh  of  Middlemas  who  were 
indiscreet  enough  to  suppose  that  Miss  Menie  must  be  a 
better  judge  than  any  other  person  of  the  comparative  merits 
of  these  accomplished  personages,  respecting  which  the 
public  opinion  was  generally  divided.  No  one  even  of  her 
greatest  intimates  ventured  to  put  the  question  to  her  in 
precise  terms  ;  but  her  conduct  was  narrowly  observed,  and 
the  critics  remarked  that  to  Adam  Hartley  her  attentions 
were  given  more  freely  and  frankly.  She  laughed  with  him, 
chatted  with  him,  and  danced  with  him ;  while  to  Dick 
Middlemas  her  conduct  was  more  shy  and  distant.  The 
premises  seemed  certain  ;  but  the  public  were  divided  in  the 
conclusions  which  were  to  be  drawn  from  them. 

It  was  not  possible  for  the  young  men  to  be  the  subject  of 
such  discussions  without  being  sensible  that  they  existed  ; 
and  thus  contrasted  together  by  the  little  society  in  which 
they  moved,  they  must  have  been  made  of  better  than  ordi- 
nary clay  if  they  had  not  themselves  entered  by  degrees  into 
the  spirit  of  the  controversy,  and  considered  themselves  as 
rivals  for  public  applause. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten  that  Menie  Gray  was  by  this  time 
shot  up  into  one  of  the  prettiest  young  women,  not  of  Middle- 
mas only,  but  of  the  whole  county  in  which  the  little  burgh 
is  situated.  This,  indeed,  had  been  settled  by  evidence 
which  could  not  be  esteemed  short  of  decisive.  At  the  time 
of  the  races  there  were  usually  assembled  in  the  burgh  some 


THE  S URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  81 

company  of  the  higher  classes  from  the  country  around,  and 
many  of  the  sober  burghers  mended  their  incomes  by  letting 
their  apartments,  or  taking  in  lodgers  of  quality,  for  the 
busy  week.  All  the  rural  thanes  and  thanesses  attended  on 
these  occasions ;  and  such  was  the  number  of  cocked  hats 
and  silken  trains,  that  the  little  town  seemed  for  a  time  to- 
tally to  have  changed  its  inhabitants.  On  this  occasion 
persons  of  a  certain  quality  only  were  permitted  to  attend 
upon  the  nightly  balls  which  were  given  in  the  old  town- 
house,  and  the  line  of  distinction  excluded  Mr.  Gray's  family. 

The  aristocracy,  however,  used  their  privileges  with  some 
feelings  of  deference  to  the  native  beaux  and  belles  of  the 
burgh,  who  were  thus  doomed  to  hear  the  fiddles  nightly 
without  being  permitted  to  dance  to  them.  One  evening  in 
the  race-week,  termed  the  Hunters*  Ball,  was  dedicated  to 
general  amusement,  and  liberated  from  the  usual  restrictions 
of  etiquette.  On  this  occasion  all  the  respectable  families 
in  the  town  were  invited  to  share  the  amusement  of  the 
evening,  and  to  wonder  at  the  finery,  and  be  grateful  for  the 
condescension,  of  their  betters.  This  was  especially  the 
case  with  the  females,  for  the  number  of  invitations  to  the 
gentlemen  of  the  town  was  much  more  limited.  Now,  at 
this  general  muster,  the  beauty  of  Miss  Gray's  face  and  per- 
son had  placed  her,  in  the  opinion  of  all  competent  judges, 
decidedly  at  the  head  of  all  the  belles  present,  saving  those 
with  whom,  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  place,  it  would 
hardly  have  been  decent  to  compare  her. 

The  laird  of  the  ancient  and  distinguished  house  of  Lou- 
ponheight  did  not  hesitate  to  engage  her  hand  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  evening  ;  and  his  mother,  renowned  for 
her  stern  assertion  of  the  distinctions  of  rank,  placed  the 
little  plebeian  beside  her  at  supper,  and  was  heard  to  say 
that  the  surgeon's  daughter  behaved  very  prettily  indeed, 
and  seemed  to  know  perfectly  well  where  and  what  she  was. 
As  for  the  young  laird  himself,  he  capered  so  high,  and 
laughed  so  uproariously,  as  to  give  rise  to  a  rumor  that  he 
was  minded  to  *'  shoot  madly  from  his  sphere,"  and  to  con- 
vert the  village  doctor's  daughter  into  a  lady  of  his  own 
ancient  name. 

During  this  memorable  evening,  Middlemas  and  Hartley, 
who  had  found  room  in  the  music  gallery,  witnessed  the 
scene,  and,  as  it  would  seem,  with  very  different  feelings. 
Hartley  was  evidently  annoyed  by  the  excess  of  attention 
which  the  gallant  laird  of  Louponheight,  stimulated  by  the 
influence  of  a  couple  of  bottles  of  claret  and  by  the  presence 


88  WAVERLBr  NOVELS 

of  a  partner  who  danced  remarkably  well,  paid  to  Misa 
Menie  Gray.  He  saw  from  his  lofty  stand  all  the  dumb 
show  of  gallantry  with  the  comfortable  feelings  of  a  famish- 
ing creature  looking  upon  a  feast  which  he  is  not  permitted 
to  share,  and  regarded  every  extraordinary  frisk  of  the  jovial 
laird  as  the  same  might  have  been  looked  upon  by  a  gouty 
person,  who  apprehended  that  the  dignitary  was  about  to 
descend  on  his  toes.  At  length,  unable  to  restrain  his  emo- 
tion, he  left  the  gallery  and  returned  no  more. 

Far  different  was  the  demeanor  of  Middlemas.  He  seemed 
gratified  and  elevated  by  the  attention  which  was  generally 
paid  to  Miss  Gray,  and  by  the  admiration  she  excited.  On 
the  valiant  laird  of  Louponheight  he  looked  with  indescrib- 
able contempt,  and  amused  himself  with  pointing  out  to  the 
burgh  dancing-master,  who  acted  pro  tempore  as  one  of  the 
band,  the  frolicsome  bounds  and  pirouettes,  in  which  that 
worthy  displayed  a  great  deal  more  of  vigor  than  of  grace. 

**  But  ye  shouldna  laugh  sae  loud.  Master  Dick,"  said  the 
master  of  capers ;  *'  he  hasna  had  the  advantage  of  a  real 
gracefu*  teacher,  as  ye  have  had  ;  and  troth,  if  he  listed  to 
tak  some  lessons,  I  think  I  could  make  some  hand  of  his 
feet,  for  he  is  a  souple  chield,  and  has  a  gallant  instep  of  his 
ain  ;  and  sic  a  laced  hat  hasna  been  seen  on  the  causeway  of 
Middlemas  this  mony  a  day.  Ye  are  standing  laughing 
there,  Dick  Middlemas  ;  I  would  have  you  be  sure  he  does 
not  cut  you  out  with  your  bonny  partner  yonder.'' 

*'  He  be !  "    Middlemas  was  beginning  a  sentence 

which  could  not  have  concluded  with  strict  attention  to  pro- 
priety, when  the  master  of  the  band  summoned  M'Fittoch 
to  his  post  by  the  following  ireful  expostulation — "  What 
are  ye  about,  sir  ?  Mind  your  bow-hand.  How  the  deil  d'ye 
think  three  fiddles  is  to  keep  down  a  bass,  if  yin  o'  them 
stands  girning  and  gabbling  as  ye're  doing  ?    Play  up,  sir  !  *' 

Dick  Middlemas,  thus  reduced  to  silence,  continued,  from 
his  lofty  station,  like  one  of  the  gods  of  the  Epicureans,  to 
survey  what  passed  below,  without  the  gaieties  which  "he 
witnessed  being  able  to  excite  more  than  a  smile,  which 
seemed,  however,  rather  to  indicate  a  good-humored  con- 
tempt for  what  was  passing  than  a  benevolent  sympathy 
with  the  pleasures  of  others. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Now  hold  thy  tongue,  Billy  Bewick,  he  said. 

Of  peaceful  talking  let  me  be  ; 
But  if  thou  art  a  man,  as  I  think  thou  art, 

Come  ower  the  dike  and  fight  with  me. 

Borderly  Minstreslsy, 

On  the  morning  after  this  gay  evening,  the  two  yonng 
men  were  laboring  together  in  a  plot  of  ground  behind 
Stevenlaw's  Land  which  the  doctor  had  converted  into  a 
garden,  where  he  raised,  with  a  view  to  pharmacy  as  well  as 
botany,  some  rare  plants,  which  obtained  the  place  from  the 
vulgar  the  sounding  name  of  the  Physic  Garden.*  Mr. 
Gray's  pupils  readily  complied  with  his  wishes,  that  they 
would  take  some  care  of  this  favorite  spot,  to  which  both 
contributed  their  labors,  after  which  Hartley  used  to  de- 
vote himself  to  the  cultivation  of  the  kitchen  garden,  which 
he  had  raised  into  this  respectability  from  a  spot  not  excell- 
ing a  common  kail-yard,  while  Richard  Middlemas  did  his 
utmost  to  decorate  with  flowers  and  shrubs  a  sort  of  arbor, 
usually  called  Miss  Menie's  bower. 

At  present,  they  were  both  in  the  botanic  patch  of  the 
garden,  when  Dick  Middlemas  asked  Hartley  why  he  had 
left  the  ball  so  soon  the  evening  before. 

"  I  should  rather  ask  you,"  said  Hartley,  *'  what  pleasure 
you  felt  in  staying  there  ?  I  tell  you,  Dick,  it  is  a  shabby, 
low  place  this  Middlemas  of  ours.  In  the  smallest  burgh  m 
England  every  decent  freeholder  would  have  been  asked  if 
the  member  gave  a  ball." 

''What,  Hartley  I"  said  his  companion,  "  are  you,  of  all 
men,  a  candidate  for  the  honor  of  mixing  with  the  first-bom 
of  the  earth  ?  Mercy  on  us  !  How  will  canny  Northum- 
berland (throwing  a  true  Northern  accent  on  the  letter  R) 
acquit  himself  ?  Methinks  I  see  thee  in  thy  pea-green  suit, 
dancing  a  jig  with  the  Honorable  Miss  Maddie  MacFudgeon, 
while  chiefs  and  thanes  around  laugh  as  they  would  do  at  a 
hog  in  armor  !  " 

"You  don't,  or  perhaps  you  won't  understand  me,"  said 

*  The  Botany  Garden  was  so  termed  by  the  vulgar  of  Edinburgh, 

39 


40  WA  VERLEY  NO VELS 

Hartley.  ''  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  desire  to  be  hail- 
fellow-well-met  with  these  fine  folks  :  I  care  as  little  for 
them  as  they  do  for  me.  But  as  they  do  not  choose  to  ask 
us  to  dance,  I  don't  see  what  business  they  have  with  our 
partners. '* 

'^Partners,  said  you!"  answered  Middlemas ;  '^  I  don't 
think  Menie  is  very  often  yours.'' 

"  As  often  as  I  ask  her,"  answered  Hartley,  rather 
haughtily. 

''  Ay  ?  Indeed  ?  I  did  not  think  that.  And  hang  me 
if  1  think  so  yet,"  said  Middlemas,  with  the  same  sarcastic 
tone.  "  I  tell  thee,  Adam,  I  will  bet  you  a  bowl  of  punch 
that  Miss  Gray  will  not  dance  with  you  the  next  time  you 
ask  her.     All  I  stipulate  is  to  know  the  day." 

*'  I  will  lay  no  bets  about  Miss  Gray,"  said  Hartley  ;  "  her 
father  is  my  master,  and  I  am  obliged  to  him — I  think  I 
should  act  very  scurvily  if  I  were  to  make  her  the  subject 
of  any  idle  debate  betwixt  you  and  me." 

"Very  right,"  replied  Middlemas;  '^you  should  finish 
one  quarrel  before  you  begin  another.  Pray,  saddle  your 
pony,  ride  up  to  the  gate  of  Louponheight  Castle,  and  defy 
the  baron  to  mortal  combat  for  having  presumed  to  touch 
the  fair  hand  of  Menie  Gray." 

''  I  wish  you  would  leave  Miss  Gray's  name  out  of  the 
question,  and  take  your  defiances  to  your  fine  folks  in  your 
own  name,  and  see  what  they  will  say  to  the  surgeon's  ap- 
prentice." 

"  Speak  for  yourself,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Adam  Hartley. 
I  was  not  born  a  clown,  like  some  folks,  and  should  care 
little,  if  I  saw  it  fit,  to  talk  to  the  best  of  them  at  the  or- 
dinary, and  make  myself  understood  too." 

"  Very  likely,"  answered  Hartley,  losing  patience  ;  "you 
are  one  of  themselves,  you  know — Middlemas  of  that  Ilk." 

"  You  scoundrel  ! "  said  Richard,  advancing  on  him  in 
fury,  his  taunting  humor  entirely  changed  into  rage. 

''Stand  back,"  said  Hartley,  ''or  you  will  come  by  the 
worst  ;  if  you  will  break  rude  jests,  you  must  put  up  with 
rough  answers." 

"  I  will  have  satisfaction  for  this  insult,  by  Heaven  ! " 

"  Why,  so  you  shall,  if  you  insist  on  it,"  said  Hartley  ; 
**  but  better,  1  think,  to  say  no  more  about  the  matter.  We 
have  both  spoken  what  would  have  been  better  left  unsaid. 
I  was  in  the  wrong  to  say  what  I  said  to  you,  although  you 
did  provoke  me.  And  now  I  have  given  you  as  much  satis- 
faction as  a  reasonable  man  can  ask." 


i 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  U 

"  Sir/'  repeated  Middlemas,  '^  the  satisfaction  which  I 
demand  is  that  of  a  gentleman  :  the  doctor  has  a  pair  of 
pistols/' 

''And  a  pair  of  mortars  also,  which  are  heartily  at  your 
service,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Gray,  coming  forward  from 
behind  a  yew  hedge,  where  he  had  listened  to  the  whole  or 
greater  part  of  this  dispute.  "  A  fine  story  it  would  be  of 
my  apprentices  shooting  each  other  with  my  own  pistols  ! 
Let  me  see  either  of  you  fit  to  treat  a  gunshot  wound  before 
you  thinif  of  inflicting  one.  Go,  you  are  both  very  foolish 
boys,  and  I  cannot  take  it  kind  of  either  of  you  to  bring  the 
name  of  my  daughter  into  such  disputes  as  these.  Harkye, 
lads,  ye  both  owe  me,  I  think,  some  portion  of  respect,  and 
even  of  gratitude ;  it  will  be  a  poor  return  if,  instead  of 
living  quietly  with  this  poor  motherless  girl,  like  brothers 
with  a  sister,  you  should  oblige  me  to  increase  my  expense, 
and  abridge  my  comfort,  by  sending  my  child  from  me  for 
the  few  months  that  you  are  to  remain  here.  Let  me 
see  you  shake  hands,  and  let  us  have  no  more  of  this  non- 
sense.'" 

While  their  master  spoke  in  this  manner,  both  the  young 
men  stood  before  him  in  the  attitude  of  self-convicted 
criminals.  At  the  conclusion  of  his  rebuke.  Hartley  turned 
frankly  round  and  offered  his  hand  to  his  companion,  who 
accepted  it,  but  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  There  was 
nothing  further  passed  on  the  subject,  but  the  lads  never 
resumed  the  same  sort  of  intimacy  which  had  existed  be- 
twixt them  in  their  earlier  acquaintance.  On  the  contrary, 
avoiding  every  connection  not  absolutely  required  by  their 
situation,  and  abridging  as  much  as  possible  even  their  in- 
dispensable intercourse  in  professional  matters,  they  seemed 
as  much  estranged  from  each  other  as  two  persons  residing 
in  the  same  small  house  had  the  means  of  being. 

As  for  Menie  Gray,  her  father  did  not  appear  to  entertain 
the  least  anxiety  upon  her  account,  although,  from  his 
frequent  and  almost  daily  absence  from  home,  she  was  ex- 
posed to  constant  intercourse  with  two  handsome  young 
men,  both,  it  might  be  supposed,  ambitious  of  pleasing  her 
more  than  most  parents  would  have  deemed  entirely  prudent. 
Nor  was  Nurse  Jamieson — her  menial  situation  and  her  ex- 
cessive partiality  for  her  foster- son  considered — altogether 
such  a  matron  as  could  afford  her  protection.  Gideon,  how- 
ever, knew  that  his  daughter  possessed,  in  its  fullest  extent, 
the  upright  and  pure  integrity  of  his  own  character,  and 
that  never  father  had  less  reason  to  apprehend  that  a  daughter 


12  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

should  deceive  his  confidence  ;  and,  justly  secure  of  her 
principles,  he  overlooked  the  danger  to  which  he  exposed 
ner  feelings  and  affections. 

The  intercourse  betwixt  Menie  and  the  young  men  seemed 
now  of  a  guarded  kind  on  all  sides.  Their  meeting  was 
only  at  meals,  and  Miss  Gray  was  at  pains,  perhaps  by  her 
father's  recommendation,  to  treat  them  with  the  same  degree 
of  attention.  This,  however,  was  no  easy  matter ;  for 
Hartley  became  so  retiring,  cold,  and  formal  that  it  was 
impossible  for  her  to  sustain  any  prolonged  intercourse  with 
him ;  whereas  Middlemas,  perfectly  at  his  ease,  sustained 
his  part  as  formerly  upon  all  occasions  that  occurred,  and, 
without  appearing  to  press  his  intimacy  assiduously,  seemed 
nevertheless  to  retain  the  complete  possession  of  it. 

The  time  drew  nigh  at  length  when  the  young  men,  freed 
from  the  engagements  of  their  indentures,  must  look  to  play 
their  own  independent  part  in  the  world.  Mr.  Gray  informed 
Eichard  Middlemas  that  he  had  written  pressingly  upon  the 
subject  to  Mon9ada,  and  that  more  than  once,  but  had  not 
yet  received  an  answer  ;  nor  did  he  presume  to  offer  his  own 
advice  until  the  pleasures  of  his  grandfather  should  be  known. 
Richard  seemed  to  endure  this  suspense  with  more  patience 
than  the  doctor  thought  belonged  naturally  to  his  character. 
He  asked  no  questions,  stated  no  conjectures,  showed  no 
anxiety,  but  seemed  to  await  with  patience  the  turn  which 
events  should  take.  "  My  young  gentleman,''  thought  Mr. 
Gray,  "  has  either  fixed  on  some  course  in  his  own  mind,  or 
he  is  about  to  be  more  tractable  than  some  points  of  his 
character  have  led  me  to  expect.'' 

In  fact,  Eichard  had  made  an  experiment  on  this  inflexi- 
ble relative,  by  sending  Mr.  Mon9ada  a  letter  full  of  duty, 
and  affection,  and  gratitude,  desiring  to  be  permitted  to 
correspond  with  him  in  person,  and  promising  to  be  guided 
in  every  particular  by  his  will.  The  answer  to  this  appeal 
was  his  own  letter  returned,  with  a  note  from  the  bankers 
whose  cover  had  been  used,  saying,  that  any  future  attempt 
to  intrude  on  Mr.  Mon9ada  would  put  a  final  period  to  their 
remittances. 

While  things  were  in  this  situation  in  Stevenlaw's  Land, 
Adam  Hartley  one  evening,  contrary  to  his  custom  for  several 
months,  sought  a  private  interview  with  his  fellow-apprentice. 
He  found  him  in  the  little  arbor,  and  could  not  omit  observ- 
ing that  Dick  Middlemas,  on  his  appearance,  shoved  into 
his  bosom  a  small  packet,  as  if  afraid  of  its  being  seen,  and, 
snatching  up  a  hoe,  began  to  work  with  great  devotion,  lik« 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  43 

one  who  wished  to  have  it  thought  that  his  whole  soul  was 
in  his  occupation. 

''  I  wished  to  speak  with  you,  Mr.  Middlemas/*  said 
Hartley  ;  '*  but  I  fear  1  interrupt  you." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  the  other,  laying  down  his  hoe  ; 
'*  I  was  only  scratching  up  the  weeds  which  the  late  showers 
have  made  rush  up  so  numerously.     I  am  at  your  service." 

Hartley  proceeded  to  the  arbor,and  seated  himself.  Kichard 
imitated  his  example,  and  seemed  to  wait  for  the  proposed 
communication. 

''  I  have  had  an  interesting  communication  with  Mr.  Gray 
— "  said  Hartley,  and  there  stopped,  like  one  who  finds  him- 
self entering  upon  a  difficult  task. 

''  I  hope  the  explanation  has  been  satisfactory  ?  "  said 
Middlemas. 

"  You  shall  judge.  Doctor  Gray  was  pleased  to  say  some- 
thing to  me  very  civil  about  my  proficiency  in  the  duties  of 
our  profession  ;  and,  to  my  great  astonishment,  asked  me 
whether,  as  he  was  now  becoming  old,  I  had  any  particular 
objection  to  continue  in  my  present  situation,  but  with  some 
pecuniary  advantages,  for  two  years  longer  ;  at  the  end  of 
which  he  promised  to  me  that  I  should  enter  into  partner- 
ship with  him. 

"  Mr.  Gray  is  an  undoubted  judge,"  said  Middlemas, 
^'  what  person  will  best  suit  him  as  a  professional  assistant. 
The  business  may  be  worth  £200  a  year,  and  an  active  assist- 
ant might  go  nigh  to  double  it  by  riding  Strath-Devon  and 
the  Carse.  No  great  subject  for  division  after  all,  Mr. 
Hartley." 

"  But,"  continued  Hartley,  "  that  is  not  all.  The  doctor 
says — he  proposes — in  short,  if  I  can  render  myself  agreeable, 
in  the  course  of  these  two  years,  to  Miss  Menie  Gray — he 
proposes  that,  when  they  terminate,  I  should  become  his  son 
as  well  as  his  partner." 

As  he  spoke,  he  kept  his  eye  fixed  on  Richard's  face, 
which  was  for  a  moment  strongly  agitated  ;  but  instantly 
recovering,  he  answered,  in  a  tone  where  pique  and  offended 
pride  vainly  endeavored  to  disguise  themselves  under  an 
affectation  of  indifference,  ''  Well,  Master  Adam,  I  cannot 
but  wish  you  joy  of  the  patriarchal  arrangement.  You  have 
served  five  years  for  a  professional  diploma — a  sort  of  Leah, 
that  privilege  of  killing  and  curing.  Now  you  begin  a  new 
course  of  servitude  for  a  lovely  Rachel.  Undoubtedly —  per- 
haps it  is  rude  in  me  to  ask — but  undoubtedly  you  have  ac- 
cepted so  flattering  an  arrangement  ?  " 


44  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

''  Yon  cannot  but  recollect  there  was  a  condition  annexed,^ 
said  Hartley,  gravely. 

"  That  of  rendering  yourself  acceptable  to  a  girl  yon  have 
known  for  so  many  years  ?  "  said  Middlemas,  with  a  half- 
suppressed  sneer.  *'  No  great  difficulty  in  that,  I  should 
think,  for  such  a  person  as  Mr.  Hartley,  with  Doctor  Gray's 
favor  to  back  him.  No — no,  there  could  be  no  great  obsta- 
cle there." 

*'  Both  you  and  I  know  the  contrary,  Mr.  Middlemas," 
said  Hartley,  very  seriously. 

**I  know  !  How  should  I  know  anything  more  than  your- 
self about  the  state  of  Miss  Gray's  inclinations  ?  "  said  Mid- 
dlemas.   **  I  am  sure  we  have  had  equal  access  to  know  them." 

"  Perhaps  so  ;  but  some  know  better  how  to  avail  them- 
selves of  opportunities.  Mr.  Middlemas,  I  have  long  sus- 
pected that  you  have  had  the  inestimable  advantage  of  pos- 
sessing Miss  Gray's  affections,  and — " 

**I  r'  interrupted  Middlemas.  *'  You  are  jesting,  or  you 
are  jealous.  You  do  yourself  less,  and  me  more,  than  jus- 
tice ;  but  the  compliment  is  so  great  that  I  am  obliged  to  you 
for  the  mistake." 

**  That  you  may  know,*'  answered  Hartley,  "  I  do  not 
speak  either  by  guess  or  from  what  you  call  jealousy,  I  tell 
you  frankly  that  Menie  Gray  herself  told  me  the  state  of  her 
affections.  I  naturally  communicated  to  her  the  discourse 
I  had  with  her  father.  I  told  her  I  was  but  too  well  con- 
vinced that  at  the  present  moment  I  did  not  possess  that  inter- 
est in  her  heart  which  alone  might  entitle  me  to  request  her 
acquiescence  in  the  views  which  her  father's  goodness  held 
out  to  me  ;  but  I  entreated  her  not  at  once  to  decide  against 
me,  but  give  me  an  opportunity  to  make  way  in  her  affec- 
tions, if  possible,  trusting  that  time,  and  the  services  which 
I  should  render  to  her  father,  might  have  an  ultimate  effect 
in  my  favor. 

'*  A  most  natural  and  modest  request.  But  what  did  the 
young  lady  say  in  reply  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  noble-hearted  girl,  Richard  Middlemas  ;  and  for 
her  frankness  alone,  even  without  her  beauty  and  her  good 
sense,  deserves  an  emperor.  I  cannot  express  the  graceful 
modesty  with  which  she  told  me  that  she  knew  too  well  the 
kindliness,  as  she  was  pleased  to  call  it,  of  my  heart  to  ex- 
pose me  to  the  protracted  pain  of  an  unrequited  passion. 
She  candidly  informed  me  that  she  had  been  long  engaged 
to  you  in  secret,  that  you  had  exchanged  portraits  ;  and 
though  without  her  father's  consent  she  would  never  become 


THE  SURGEON'S  DA  UGHTER  45 

yours,  yet  she  felt  it  impossible  that  she  should  ever  so  far 
change  her  sentiments  as  to  afford  the  most  distant  prospect 
of  success  to  another/' 

"Upon  my  word/'  said  Middlemas,  ''she  has  been  ex- 
tremely candid  indeed,  and  I  am  very  much  obliged  to 
her  ! " 

**And  upon  my  honest  word,  Mr.  Middlemas,''  returned 
Hartley,  *'you  do  Miss  Gray  the  greatest  injustice — nay, 
you  are  ungrateful  to  her — if  you  are  displeased  at  her 
making  this  declaration.     She  loves  you  as  a  woman  loves 

the  first  object  of  her  affection  ;  she  loves  you  better " 

He  stopped,  and  Middlemas  completed  the  sentence. 

*'  Better  than  I  deserve,  perhaps  ?  Faith,  it  may  well  be 
so,  and  I  love  her  dearly  in  return.  But  after  all,  you 
know,  the  secret  was  mine  as  well  as  hers,  and  it  would 
have  been  better  that  she  had  consulted  me  before  making 
it  public." 

''  Mr.  Middlemas,"  said  Hartley,  earnestly,  '*  if  the  least 
of  this  feeling  on  your  part  arises  from  the  apprehension 
that  your  secret  is  less  safe  because  it  is  in  my  keeping,  I 
can  assure  you  that  such  is  my  grateful  sense  of  Miss  Gray's 
goodness,  in  communicating,  to  save  me  pain,  an  affair  of 
such  delicacy  to  herself  and  you,  that  wild  horses  should 
tear  me  limb  from  limb  before  they  forced  a  word  of  it  from 
my  lips. " 

"Nay — nay,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Middlemas,  with  a 
frankness  of  manner  indicating  a  cordiality  that  had  not 
existed  between  them  for  some  time,"  you  must  allow  me  to  be 
a  little  jealous  in  my  turn.  Your  true  lover  cannot  have  a 
title  to  the  name  unless  he  be  sometimes  unreasonable ;  and 
somehow  it  seems  odd  she  should  have  chosen  for  a  con- 
fidant one  whom  I  have  often  thought  a  formidable  rival ; 
and  yet  I  am  so  far  from  being  displeased,  that  I  do  not 
know  that  the  dear,  sensible  girl  could  after  all  have  made 
a  better  choice.  It  is  time  that  the  foolish  coldness  between 
us  should  be  ended,  as  you  may  be  sensible  that  its  real  cause 
lay  in  our  rivalry.  I  have  much  need  of  good  advice,  and 
who  can  give  it  to  me  better  than  the  old  companion  whose 
soundness  of  judgment  I  have  always  envied,  even  when 
some  injudicious  friends  have  given  me  credit  for  quicker 
parts  ! 

Hartley  accepted  Richard's  proffered  hand,  but  without 
any  of  the  buoyancy  of  spirit  with  which  it  was  offered. 

"  I  do  not  intend,"  he  said,  "  to  remain  many  days  in  this 
place,  perhaps  not  very  many  hours.     But  if,  in  the  mean* 


46  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

while,  I  can  benefit  yon,  by  advice  or  otherwise,  you  may 
fully  command  me.  It  is  the  only  mode  in  which  I  can  be 
of  service  to  Menie  Gray/* 

*'  Love  my  mistress,  love  me ;  a  happy  pendant  to  the  old 
proverb,  *  Love  me,  love  mv  dog.'  Well,  then,  for  Menie 
Gray's  sake,  if  not  for  Dick  Middlemas's — plague  on  that 
vulgar,  tell-tale  name ! — will  you,  that  are  a  stander-by, 
tell  us  who  are  the  unlucky  players  what  you  think  of  this 
game  of  ours  ?  " 

*'  How  can  you  ask  such  a  question,  when  the  field  lies 
so  fair  before  you  ?  I  am  sure  that  Dr.  Gray  would  retain 
you  as  his  assistant  upon  the  same  terms  which  he  proposed 
to  me.  You  are  the  better  match,  in  all  worldly  respects, 
for  his  daughter,  having  some  capital  to  begin  the  world 
with." 

**A11  true ;  but  methinks  Mr.  Gray  has  showed  no  great 
predilection  for  me  in  this  matter." 

*'If  he  has  done  injustice  to  your  indisputable  merit," 
said  Hartley,  drily,  "the  preference  of  his  daughter  has 
more  than  atoned  for  it." 

**  Unquestionably ;  and  dearly,  therefore,  do  I  love  her ; 
otherwise,  Adam,  I  am  not  a  person  to  grasp  at  the  leavings 
of  other  people." 

"  Richard,"  replied  Hartley,  "  that  pride  of  yours,  if  you 
do  not  check  it,  will  render  you  both  ungrateful  and  miser- 
able. Mr.  Gray's  ideas  are  most  friendly.  He  told  me 
plainly  that  his  choice  of  me  as  an  assistant,  and  as  a  mem- 
ber of  his  family,  had  been  a  long  time  balanced  by  his  early 
affection  for  you,  until  he  thought  he  had  remarked  in  you 
a  decisive  discontent  with  such  limited  prospects  as  his  offer 
contained,  and  a  desire  to  go  abroad  into  the  world  and 
push,  as  it  is  called,  your  fortune.  He  said  that,  although 
it  was  very  probable  that  you  might  love  his  daughter  well 
enough  to  relinquish  these  ambitious  ideas  for  her  sake,  yet 
the  demons  of  Ambition  and  Avarice  would  return  after 
the  exerciser  Love  had  exhausted  the  force  of  his  spells,  and 
then  he  thought  he  would  have  just  reason  to  be  anxious 
for  his  daughter's  happiness.'' 

*'  By  my  faith,  the  worthy  senior  speaks  scholarly  and 
wisely,"  answered  Richard :  '*I  did  not  think  he  had  been 
so  clear-sighted.  To  say  the  truth,  but  for  the  beautiful 
Menie  Gray,  I  should  feel  like  a  mill-horse,  walking  my 
daily  round  in  this  dull  country,  while  other  gay  rovers  are 
trying  how  the  world  will  receive  them,  li'or  instance, 
where  do  you  yourself  go  ?  " 


THE  S URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTEM  i'i 

*'A  cousin  of  my  mother's  commands  a  ship  in  the  Com- 

?any's  service.  I  intend  to  go  with  him  as  surgeon's  mate, 
f  I  like  the  sea  service,  I  will  continue  in  it ;  if  not,  I  will 
enter  some  other  line."     This  Hartley  said  with  a  sigh. 

**  To  India  I"  answered  Richard  ;  *'  happy  dog — to  India  ! 
You  may  well  bear  with  equanimity  all  disappointments 
sustained  on  this  side  of  the  globe.  Oh,  Delhi !  oh,  Gol- 
conda  !  have  your  names  no  power  to  conjure  down  idle 
recollections  ?"  India,  where  gold  is  won  by  steel ;  where  a 
brave  man  cannot  pitch  his  desire  of  fame  and  wealth  so 
high  but  that  he  may  realize  it,  if  he  have  fortune  to  his 
friend  ?  Is  it  possible  that  the  bold  adventurer  can  fix  his 
thoughts  on  you,  and  still  be  dejected  at  the  thoughts  that 
a  bonny  blue-eved  lass  looked  favorably  on  a  less  lucky 
fellow  than  himself  ?     Can  this  be  ?" 

''  Less  lucky  ! "  said  Hartley.  '^  Can  you,  the  accepted 
lover  of  Menie  Gray,  speak  in  that  tone,  even  though  it  be 
in  jest  ?" 

**  Nay,  Adam,"  said  Richard,  ''don't  be  angry  with  me 
because,  being  thus  far  successful,  I  rate  my  good  fortune 
not  quite  so  rapturously  as  perhaps  you  do,  who  have  missed 
the  luck  of  it.  Your  philosophy  should  tell  you  that  the 
object  which  we  attain,  or  are  sure  of  attaining,  loses,  per- 
haps, even  by  that  very  certainty,  a  little  of  the  extravagant 
and  ideal  value  which  attached  to  it  while  the  object  of 
feverish  hopes  and  anguish  fears.  But  for  all  that  I  cannot 
live  without  my  sweet  Menie.  I  would  wed  her  to-morrow, 
with  all  my  soul,  without  thinking  a  minute  on  the  clog 
which  so  early  a  marriage  would  fasten  on  our  heels.  But 
to  spend  two  additional  years  in  this  infernal  wilderness, 
cruising  after  crowns  and  half-crowns,  when  worse  men  are 
making  lacs  and  crores  of  rupees — it  is  a  sad  falling  off, 
Adam.  Counsel  me,  my  friend  ;  can  you  not  suggest  some 
mode  of  getting  off  from  these  two  years  of  destined 
dulness  ?" 

*'  Not  I,"  replied  Hartley,  scarce  repressing  his  dis- 
pleasure ;  *^and  if  I  could  induce  Dr.  Gray  to  dispense  with 
so  reasonable  a  condition,  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  do  so. 
You  are  but  twenty-one,  and  if  such  a  period  of  probation 
was,  in  the  doctor's  prudence,  judged  necessary  for  me,  who 
am  full  two  years  older,  I  have  no  idea  that  he  will  dispense 
with  it  in  yours." 

''Perhaps  not,"  replied  Middlemas  ;  "but  do  you  not 
think  that  these  two,  or  call  them  three,  years  of  probation 
had  better  be  spent  in  India,  where  much  may  be  done  in  a 


48  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

little  while,  than  here,  where  nothing  can  be  done  save  jnst 
enough  to  get  salt  to  our  broth,  or  broth  to  our  salt  ?  Me- 
thinks  I  have  a  natural  turn  for  India,  and  so  I  ought.  My 
father  was  a  soldier,  by  the  conjecture  of  all  who  saw  him, 
and  gave  me  a  love  of  the  sword,  and  an  arm  to  use  one. 
My  mother's  father  was  a  rich  trafficker,  who  loved  wealth, 
1  warrant  me,  and  knew  how  to  get  it.  This  petty  two 
hundred  a-year,  with  its  miserable  and  precarious  possibili- 
ties, to  be  shared  with  the  old  gentleman,  sounds  in  the  ears 
of  one  like  me,  who  have  the  world  for  the  winning,  and  a 
sword  to  cut  my  way  through  it,  like  something  little  better 
than  a  decent  kind  of  beggary.  Menie  is  in  herself  a  gem 
— a  diamond — I  admit  it.  But  then  one  would  not  set  such 
a  precious  jewel  in  lead  or  copper,  but  in  pure  gold — ay,  and 
add  a  circlet  of  brilliants  to  set  it  off  with.  Be  a  good 
fellow,  Adam,  and  undertake  the  setting  my  project  in  pro- 
per colors  before  the  doctor.  I  am  sure  the  wisest  thing  for 
him  and  Menie  both  is  to  permit  me  to  spend  this  short  time 
of  probation  in  the  land  of  cowries.  I  am  sure  my  heart 
will  be  there  at  any  rate,  and  while  I  am  bleeding  some 
bumpkin  for  an  inflammation,  I  shall  be  in  fancy  relieving 
some  nabob  or  rajahpoot  of  his  plethora  of  wealth.  Come, 
will  you  assist — will  you  be  auxiliary  ?  Ten  chances  but  you 
plead  your  own  cause,  man,  for  I  may  be  brought  up  by  a 
saber  or  a  bow-string  before  I  make  my  pack  up  ;  then  your 
road  to  Menie  will  be  free  and  open,  and,  as  you  will  be  pos- 
Bessed  of  the  situation  of  comforter  ex  officio,  you  may  take 
her  *  with  the  tear  in  her  ee,'  as  old  saws  advise.  ' 

**  Mr.  Richard  Middlemas,"  said  Hartley,  **  I  wish  it  were 
possible  for  me  to  tell  you,  in  the  few  words  which  I  intend 
to  bestow  on  you,  whether  I  pity  you  or  despise  you  the 
most.  Heaven  has  placed  happiness,  competence,  and  con- 
tent witn.^  your  power,  and  you  are  willing  to  cast  them 
away  to  gratify  ambition  and  avarice.  Were  I  to  give  any 
advice  on  tnis  subject,  either  to  Dr.  Gray  or  his  daughter, 
it  would  be  to  break  off  all  connection  with  a  man  who, 
however  clever  by  nature,  may  soon  show  himself  a  fool,  and 
however  honestly  brought  up,  may  also,  upon  temptation, 
prove  himself  a  villain.  You  may  lay  aside  the  sneer  which 
is  designed  to  be  a  sarcastic  smile.  I  will  not  attempt  to  do 
this,  because  I  am  convinced  that  my  advice  would  be  of  no 
use,  unless  it  could  come  unattended  with  suspicion  of  my 
motives.  I  will  hasten  my  departure  from  this  house,  that 
we  may  not  meet  again  ;  and  I  will  leave  it  to  God  Almighty 
to  protect  honesty  and  innocence  against  the  dangers  which 


THE  S  URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  4Sf 

must  attend  vanity  and  folly."  So  saying,  he  turned  con- 
temptuously from  the  youthful  votary  of  ambition,  and  left 
the  garden. 

*'  Stop,"  said  Middlemas,  struck  with  the  picture  which 
had  been  held  up  to  his  conscience — '^  stop,  Adam  Hartley, 

and  I  will  confess  to  you "     But  his  words  were  uttered 

in  a  faint  and  hesitating  manner,  and  either  never  reached 
Hartley's  ear  or  failed  in  changing  his  purpose  of  departure. 

When  he  was  out  of  the  garden,  Middlemas  began  to  recall 
his  usual  boldness  of  disposition.  ''  Had  he  stayed  a  moment 
longer,"  he  said,  "  I  would  have  turned  Papist,  and  made 
him  my  ghostly  confessor.  The  yeomanly  churl !  I  would 
give  something  to  know  how  he  has  got  such  a  hank  over 
me  ?  What  are  Menie  Gray's  engagements  to  him  ?  She 
has  given  him  his  answer,  and  what  right  has  he  to  come 
betwixt  her  and  me  ?  If  old  Mongada  had  done  a  grand- 
father's duty,  and  made  suitable  settlements  on  me,  this  plan 
of  marrying  the  sweet  girl  and  settling  here  in  her  native 
place  might  have  done  well  enough.  But  to  live  the  life 
of  the  poor  drudge  her  father — to  be  at  the  command  and 
call  of  every  boor  for  twenty  miles  round  ! — why,  the  labors 
of  a  higgler,  who  travels  scores  of  miles  to  barter  pins, 
ribbons,  snuff,  and  tobacco  against  the  housewife's  private 
stock  of  eggs,  mort-skins,  and  tallow,  is  more  profitable, 
less  laborious,  and  faith,  1  think,  equally  respectable.  No — 
no,  unless  I  can  find  wealth  nearer  home,  I  will  seek  it 
where  every  one  can  have  it  for  the  gathering  ;  and  so  I  will 
down  to  the  Swan  Inn  and  hold  a  final  consultation  with  my 
friend.'' 


CHAPTER  V 

The  friend  whom  Middle  mas  expected  to  meert  at  the  Swan 
was  a  person  already  mentioned  in  this  history  by  the  name 
of  Tom  Hillary,  bred  an  attorney's  clerk  in  the  ancient  town 
of  Novum  Castrum,  doctus  utriusque  juris,  as  far  as  a  few 
months  in  the  service  of  Mr.  Lawford,  town-clerk  of  Middle- 
mas,  could  render  him  so.  The  last  mention  that  we  made 
of  this  gentleman  was  when  his  gold-laced  hat  veiled  its 
splendor  before  the  fresher-mounted  beavers  of  the  'prentices 
of  Dr.  Gray.  That  was  now  about  five  years  since,  and  it 
was  within  six  months  that  he  had  made  his  appearance  in 
Middlemas,  a  very  different  sort  of  personage  from  that  which 
he  seemed  at  his  departure. 

He  was  now  called  Captain  ;  his  dress  was  regimental,  and 
his  language  martial.  He  seemed  to  have  plenty  of  cash, 
for  he  not  only,  to  the  great  surprise  of  the  parties,  paid 
certain  old  debts  which  he  had  left  unsettled  behind  him, 
and  that  notwithstanding  his  having,  as  his  old  practise  told 
him,  a  good  defense  of  j)rescription,  but  even  sent  the  min- 
ister a  guinea  to  the  assistance  of  the  parish  poor.  These 
acts  of  justice  and  benevolence  were  bruited  abroad  greatly 
to  the  honor  of  one  who,  so  long  absent,  had  neither  forgotten 
his  just  debts  nor  hardened  his  heart  against  the  cries  of  the 
needy.  His  merits  were  thought  the  higher  when  it  was 
understood  he  had  served  the  Honorable  East  India  Com- 
pany— that  wonderful  company-  of  merchants,  who  may 
indeed,  with  the  strictest  propriety,  be  termed  princes.  It 
was  about  the  middle  of  the  18th  century,  and  the  directors 
in  Leadenhall  Street  were  silently  laying  the  foundation  of 
that  immense  empire  which  afterwards  rose  like  an  exhala- 
tion, and  now  astonishes  Europe,  as  well  as  Asia,  with  its 
formidable  extent  and  stupendous  strength.  Britain  had 
now  begun  to  lend  a  wondering  ear  to  the  account  of  battles 
fought  and  cities  won  in  the  East ;  and  was  surprised  by  the 
return  of  individuals  who  had  left  their  native  country  as 
adventurers,  but  now  reappeared  there  surrounded  by  Oriental 
wealth  and  Oriental  luxury,  which  dimmed  even  the  splendor 
of  the  most  wealthy  of  the  British  nobility.  In  this  new-found 

50 


THE  S UR GEON ' S  DAUGH TER  6l 

El  Dorado,  Hillary  had,  it  seems,  been  a  laborer,  and,  if  he 
told  truth,  to  some  purpose,  though  he  was  far  from  having 
completed  the  harvest  which  he  meditated.  He  spoke,  in- 
deed, of  making  investments,  and,  as  a  mere  matter  of 
fancy,  he  consulted  his  old  master.  Clerk  Lawford,  concern- 
ing the  purchase  of  a  moorland  farm  of  three  thousand  acres, 
for  which  he  would  be  content  to  give  three  or  four  thousand 
guineas,  providing  the  game  was  plenty  and  the  trouting  in 
tlie  brook  such  as  had  been  represented  by  advertisement. 
But  he  did  not  wish  to  make  any  extensive  landed  purchase 
at  present.  It  was  necessary  to  keep  up  his  interest  in 
Leadenhall  Street ;  and  in  that  view,  it  would  be  impolitic 
to  part  with  his  India  stock  and  India  bonds.  In  short,  it 
was  folly  to  think  of  settling  on  a  poor  thousand  or  twelve 
hundred  a-year,  when  one  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  had 
no  liver  complaint  ;  and  so  he  was  determined  to  double  the 
Cape  once  again  ere  he  retired  to  the  chimney- comer  for 
life.  All  he  wished  was,  to  pick  up  a  few  clever  fellows  for 
his  regiment,  or  rather  for  his  own  company  ;  and  as  in  all 
his  travels  he  had  never  seen  finer  fellows  than  about  Middle- 
mas,  he  was  willing  to  give  them  the  preference  in- complet- 
ing his  levy.  In  fact,  it  was  making  men  of  them  at  once, 
for  a  few  white  faces  never  failed  to  strike  terror  into  these 
black  rascals  ;  and  then,  not  to  mention  the  good  things  that 
were  going  at  the  storming  of  a  pettah  or  the  plundering  of 
a  pagoda,  most  of  these  tawny  dogs  carried  so  much  treasure 
about  their  persons  that  a  won  battle  was  equal  to  a  mine  of 
gold  to  the  victors. 

The  natives  of  Middlemas  listened  to  the  noble  captain's 
marvels  whith  different  feelings,  as  their  temperaments  were 
saturnine  or  sanguine.  But  none  could  deny  that  such 
things  had  been  ;  and  as  the  narrator  was  known  to  be  a 
bold,  dashing  fellow,  possessed  of  some  abilities,  and,  accord- 
ing to  the  general  opinion,  not  likely  to  be  withheld  by  any 
peculiar  scruples  of  conscience,  there  was  no  giving  any 
good  reason  why  Hillary  should  not  have  been  as  successful 
as  others  in  the  field  which  India,  agitated  as  it  was  by  war 
and  intestine  disorders,  seemed  to  offer  to  every  enterprising 
adventurer.  He  was  accordingly  received  by  his  old  ac- 
quaintances at  Middlemas  rather  with  the  respect  due  to  his 
supposed  wealth  than  in  a  manner  corresponding  with  his 
former  humble  pretensions. 

Some  of  the  notables  of  the  village  did  indeed  keep  aloof. 
Among  these,  the  chief  was  Dr.  Gray,  who  was  an  enemy  to 
everything    that    approached    to    fanfaronade,   and    knew 


Sa  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

enough  of  the  world  to  lay  it  down  as  a  sort  of  general  rule 
that  he  who  talks  a  great  deal  of  fighting  is  seldom  a  brave 
soldier,  and  he  who  always  speaks  about  wealth  is  seldom  a 
rich  man  at  bottom.  Clerk  Lawford  was  also  shy,  notwith- 
standing his  communings  with  Hillary  upon  the  subject  of 
his  intended  purchase.  The  coolness  of  the  captain's  old 
employer  towards  him  was  by  some  supposed  to  arise  out  of 
certain  circumstances  attending  their  former  connection  ; 
but  as  the  clerk  himself  never  explained  what  these  were,  it 
is  unnecessary  to  make  any  conjectures  upon  the  subject. 

Richard  Middlemas  very  naturally  renewed  his  intimacy 
with  his  former  comrade,  and  it  was  from  Hillary's  conver- 
sation that  he  had  adopted  the  enthusiasm  respecting  India 
which  we  have  heard  him  express.  It  was  indeed,  impossible 
for  a  youth  at  once  inexperienced  in  the  world  and  possessed  of 
a  most  sanguine  disposition  to  listen  without  sympathy  to  the 
glowing  descriptions  of  Hillary,  who,  though  only  a  recruit- 
ing captain,  had  all  the  eloquence  of  a  recruiting  sergeant. 
Palaces  rose  like  mushrooms  in  his  descriptions ;  groves  of 
lofty  trees  and  aromatic  shrubs,  unknown  to  the  chilly  soils 
of  Europe,  were  tenanted  by  every  object  of  the  chase,  from 
the  royal  tiger  down  to  the  jackal.  The  luxuries  of  a  natch, 
and  the  peculiar  Oriental  beauty  of  the  enchantresses  who 
performed  their  voluptuous  Eastern  dances  for  the  pleasure 
of  the  haughty  English  conquerors,  were  no  less  attractive 
than  the  battles  and  sieges  on  which  the  captain  at  other 
times  expatiated.  Not  a  stream  did  he  mention  but  flowed 
over  sands  of  gold,  and  not  a  palace  that  was  inferior  to  those 
of  the  celebrated  Fata  Morgana.  His  descriptions  seemed 
steeped  in  odors,  and  his  every  phrase  perfumed  in  ottar  of 
roses.  The  interviews  at  which  these  descriptions  took  place 
often  ended  in  a  bottle  of  choicer  wine  than  the  Swan  Inn 
afforded,  with  some  other  appendages  of  the  table,  which 
the  captain,  who  was  a  hon-vivant,  had  procured  from  Edin- 
burgh. From  this  good  cheer  Middlemas  was  doomed  to 
retire  to  the  homely  evening  meal  of  his  master,  where  not 
all  the  simple  beauties  of  Menie  were  able  to  overcome  his 
disgust  at  the  coarseness  of  the  provisions,  or  his  unwilling- 
ness to  answer  questions  concerning  the  diseases  of  the 
wretched  peasants  who  were  subjected  to  his  inspection. 

Richard's  hopes  of  being  acknowledged  by  his  father  had 
long  since  vanished,  and  the  rough  repulse  and  subsequent 
neglect  on  the  part  of  Mongada  had  satisfied  him  that  his 
grandfather  was  inexorable,  and  that  neither  then  nor  at  any 
luture  time  did  he  mean  to  realize  the  visions  which  Nurse 


THE  S URGEON ' S  DA  UGHTEB  53 

Jamieson's  splendid  figments  had  encouraged  him  to  enter- 
tain. Ambition,  however,  was  not  lulled  to  sleep,  though  it 
was  no  longer  nourished  by  the  same  hopes  which  had  at  first 
awakened  it.  The  Indian  captain's  lavish  oratory  supplied 
the  themes  which  had  been  at  first  derived  from  the  legends 
of  the  nursery  ;  the  exploits  of  a  Lawrence  and  a  Olive,  as 
well  as  the  magnificent  opportunities  of  acquiring  wealth  to 
which  these  exploits  opened  the  road,  disturbed  the  slum- 
bers of  the  young  adventurer.  There  was  nothing  to  coun- 
teract these  except  his  love  for  Menie  Gray  and  the  engage- 
ments into  which  it  had  led  him.  But  his  addresses  had 
been  paid  to  Menie  as  much  for  the  gratification  of  his 
vanity  as  from  any  decided  passion  for  that  innocent  and 
guileless  being.  He  was  desirous  of  carrying  off  the  prize 
for  which  Hartley,  whom  he  never  loved,  had  the  courage 
to  contend  with  him.  Then  Menie  Gray  had  been  beheld 
with  admiration  by  men  his  superiors  in  rank  and  fortune, 
but  with  whom  his  ambition  incited  him  to  dispute  the  prize. 
No  doubt,  though  urged  to  play  the  gallant  at  first  rather 
from  vanity  than  any  other  cause,  the  frankness  and  modesty 
with  which  his  suit  was  admitted  made  their  natural  impres- 
sion on  his  heart.  He  was  grateful  to  the  beautiful  creature 
who  acknowledged  the  superiority  of  his  person  and  accom- 
plishments, and  fancied  himself  as  devotedly  attached  to 
her  as  her  personal  charms  and  mental  merits  would  have 
rendered  any  one  who  was  less  vain  or  selfish  than  her  lover. 
Still  his  passion  for  the  surgeon's  daughter  ought  not,  he 
prudentially  determined,  to  bear  more  than  its  due  weight 
in  a  case  so  very  important  as  the  determining  his  line  of 
life ;  and  this  he  smoothed  over  to  his  conscience  by  repeat- 
ing to  himself  that  Menie's  interest  was  as  essentially  con- 
cerned as  his  own  in  postponing  their  marriage  to  the 
establishment  of  his  fortune.  How  many  young  couples  had 
been  ruined  by  a  premature  union  ! 

The  contemptuous  conduct  of  Hartley  in  their  last  inter- 
view had  done  something  to  shake  his  comrade's  confidence 
in  the  truth  of  this  reasoning,  and  to  lead  him  to  suspect 
that  he  was  playing  a  very  sordid  and  unmanly  part  in  tri- 
fling with  the  happiness  of  this  amiable  and  unfortunate  young 
woman.  It  was  in  this  doubtful  humor  that  he  repaired  to 
the  Swan  Inn,  where  he  was  anxiously  expected  by  his  friend 
the  captain. 

When  they  were  comfortably  seated  over  a  bottle  of  Paxa- 
rete,  Middlemas  began,  with  characteristical  caution,  to  sound 
his  friend  about  the  ease  or  difficulty  with  which  an  Individ- 


54  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

ual,  desirous  of  entering  the  Company's  service,  might  hare 
an  opportunity  of  getting  a  commission.  If  Hillary  had  an- 
swered truly,  he  would  have  replied  that  it  was  extremely 
easy  ;  for,  at  that  time,  the  East  India  service  presented  no 
charms  to  that  superior  class  of  people  who  have  since  strug- 
gled for  admittance  under  its  banners.  But  the  worthy 
captain  replied  that,  though  in  the  general  case  it  might  be 
difficult  for  a  young  man  to  obtain  a  commission  without 
serving  for  some  years  as  a  cadet,  yet,  under  his  own  protec- 
tion, a  young  man  entering  his  regiment,  and  fitted  for  such 
a  situation,  might  be  sure  of  an  ensigncy,  if  not  a  lieuten- 
ancy, as  soon  as  ever  they  set  foot  in  India.  ''  If  you,  my 
dear  fellow,"  continued  he,  extending  his  hand  to  Middle- 
mas,  **  would  think  of  changing  sheep-head  broth  and  haggia 
for  mulligatawny  and  curry,  I  can  only  say  that,  though  it 
is  indispensable  that  you  should  enter  the  service  at  first 

simply   as  a    cadet,   yet,   by ,  you    should   live   like   a 

brother  on  the  passage  with  me  ;  and  no  sooner  were  we 
through  the  surf  at  Madras  than  I  would  put  you  in  the  way 
of  acquiring  both  wealth  and  glory.  You  have,  I  think, 
some  trifle  of  money — a  couple  of  thousands  or  so  ?  " 

'*  About  a  thousand  or  twelve  hundred,"  said  Kichard,  af- 
fecting the  indifference  of  his  companion,  but  feeling  pri- 
vately humbled  by  the  scantiness  of  his  resources. 

"  It  is  quite  as  much  as  you  will  find  necessary  for  the 
outfit  and  passage,"  said  his  adviser  ;  **and,  indeed,  if  you 
had  not  a  farthing,  it  would  be  the  same  thing ;  for  if  I  once 
say  to  a  friend,  ^'  Til  help  you,"  Tom  Hillary  is  not  the  man 
to  start  for  fear  of  the  cowries.  However,  it  is  as  well  you 
having  something  of  a  capital  of  your  own  to  begin  upon." 

**  Yes,"  replied  the  proselyte.  '^  I  should  not  like  to  be  a 
burden  on  any  one.  I  have  some  thoughts,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  to  marry  before  I  leave  Britain  ;  and  in  that  case, 
you  know,  cash  will  be  necessary,  whether  my  wife  goes 
out  with  us  or  remains  behind  till  she  hear  how  luck  goes 
with  me.  So,  after  all,  I  may  have  to  borrow  a  few  hundreds 
of  you." 

"  What  the  devil  is  that  you  say,  Dick,  about  marrying 
and  giving  in  marriage  ?"  replied  his  friend.  '*  What  can 
put  it  into  the  head  of  a  gallant  young  fellow  like  you,  just 
rising  twenty-one,  and  six  feet  high  on  your  stocking-soles, 
to  make  a  slave  of  yourself  for  life  ?  No — no,  Dick,  thai 
will  never  do.     Remember  the  old  song  — 

"  Bachelor  Bluff,  bachelor  Bluff, 
Hey  for  a  heart  that's  rugged  and  tough  f  •* 


I 


THE  SUBGEON'S  DAUGHTER  U 

^'  Ay — ay,  that  sounds  very  well,"  replied  Middle  mas ; 
'*  but  then  one  must  shake  off  a  number  of  old  recollections/* 

'*  The  sooner  the  better,  Dick  ;  old  recollections  are  like 
old  clothes,  and  should  be  sent  off  by  wholesale  :  they  only 
take  up  room  in  one's  wardrobe,  and  it  would  be  old-fashioned 
to  wear  them.  But  you  look  grave  upon  it.  Who  the  devil 
is  it  has  made  such  a  hole  in  your  heart  ?  " 

*' Pshaw  ! '^  answered  Middlemas,  'Tm  sure  you  must 
remember  — Menie — my  master's  daughter." 

''  What,  Miss  Green,  the  old  potter-carrier's  daughter  ?  A 
likely  girl  enough,  I  think." 

"  My  master  is  a  surgeon,"  said  Richard,  "  not  an  apoth- 
ecary, and  his  name  is  Gray." 

"  Ay — ay.  Green  or  Gray — what  does  it  signify  ?  He  sells 
his  own  drugs,  I  think,  which  we  in  the  south  call  being  a 
potter-carrier.  The  girl  is  a  likely  girl  enough  for  a  Scottish 
ball-room.     But  is  she  up  to  anything  ?     Has  she  any  nouz  f  " 

"Why,  she  is  a  sensible  girl,  save  in  loving  me,"  an- 
swered Richard  ;  "  and  that,  as  Benedict  says,  is  no  proof 
of  her  wisdom  and  no  great  argument  of  her  folly." 

"  But  has  she  spirit — spunk — dash — a  spice  of  the  devil 
about  her  ?  " 

"  Not  a  pennyweight — the  kindest,  simplest,  and  most 
manageable  of  human  beings,"  answered  the  lover. 

**She  won't  do,  then,"  said  the  monitor,  in  a  decisive 
tone.  "I  am  sorry  for  it,  Dick,  but  she  will  never  do. 
There  are  some  women  in  the  world  that  can  bear  their  share 
in  the  bustling  life  v/e  live  in  India — ay,  and  I  have  known 
some  of  them  drag  forward  husbands  that  would  otherwise 
have  stuck  fast  in  the  mud  till  the  day  of  judgment.  Heaven 
knows  how  they  paid  the  turnpikes  they  pushed  them 
through  !  But  these  were  none  of  your  simple  Susans,  that 
think  their  eyes  are  good  for  nothing  but  to  look  at  theit 
husbands,  or  their  fingers  but  to  sew  baby-clothes.  Depend 
on  it,  you  must  give  up  your  matrimony  or  your  views  of 
preferment.  If  you  wilfully  tie  a  clog  round  your  throat, 
never  think  of  running  a  race.  But  do  not  suppose  that  your 
breaking  off  with  the  lass  will  make  any  very  terrible  catas- 
trophe. A  scene  there  may  be  at  parting  ;  but  you  will 
soon  forget  her  among  the  native  girls,  and  she  will  fall  in 
love  with  Mr.  Tapeitout,  the  minister's  assistant  and  suc- 
cessor. She  is  not  goods  for  the  Indian  market,  I  assure 
you." 

Among  the  capricious  weaknesses  of  humanity,  that  one 
is  particularly  remarkable  which  inclines  us  to  esteem  per- 


56  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

sons  and  things  not  by  their  real  value,  or  even  by  our  own 
judgment,  so  much  as  by  the  opinion  of  others,  who  are 
often  very  incompetent  judges.  Dick  Middlemas  had  been 
urged  forward  in  his  suit  to  Menie  Gray  by  his  observing  how 
much  her  partner,  a  booby  laird,  had  been  captivated  by 
her  ;  and  she  was  now  lowered  in  his  esteem  because  an  im- 
pudent, low-lived  coxcomb  had  presumed  to  talk  of  her  with 
disparagement.  Either  of  these  worthy  gentlemen  would 
have  been  as  capable  of  enjoying  the  beauties  of  Homer  as 
of  judging  of  the  merits  of  Menie  Gray. 

Indeed,  the  ascendency  which  this  bold-talking,  promise- 
making  soldier  had  acquired  over  Dick  Middlemas,  wilful  as 
he  was  in  general,  was  of  a  despotic  nature ;  because  the 
captain,  though  greatly  inferior  in  information  and  talent  to 
the  youth  whose  opinions  he  swayed,  had  skill  in  suggesting 
those  tempting  views  of  rank  and  wealth  to  which  Kichard's 
imagination  had  been  from  childhood  most  accessible.  One 
promise  he  exacted  from  Middlemas,  as  a  condition  of  the 
services  which  he  was  to  render  him  :  it  was  absolute  silence 
on  the  subject  of  his  destination  for  India,  and  the  views 
upon  which  it  took  place.  '*  My  recruits,"  said  the  captain, 
**  have  been  all  marched  off  for  the  dep6t  at  the  Isle  of 
Wight ;  and  I  want  to  leave  Scotland,  and  particularly  this 
little  burgh,  without  being  worried  to  death,  of  which  I 
must  despair,  should  it  come  to  be  known  that  I  can  provide 
young  griffins,  as  we  call  them,  with  commissions.  Gad,  I 
should  carry  off  all  the  first-born  of  Middlemas  as  cadets, 
and  none  are  so  scrupulous  as  I  am  about  making  promises. 
I  am  as  trusty  as  a  Trojan  for  that  ;  and  you  know  I  cannot 
do  that  for  every  one  which  I  would  for  an  old  friend  like 
Dick  Middlemas.*' 

Dick  promised  secrecy,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  two 
friends  stould  not  even  leave  the  burgh  in  company,  but  that 
the  captain  should  set  off  first,  and  his  recruit  should  join 
him  at  Edinburgh,  where  his  enlistment  might  be  attested  ; 
and  then  they  were  to  travel  together  to  town,  and  arrange 
matters  for  their  Indian  voyage. 

Notwithstanding  the  definite  arrangement  which  was  thus 
made  for  his  departure,  Middlemas  thought  from  time  to 
time  with  anxiety  and  regret  about  quitting  Menie  Gray, 
after  the  engagement  which  had  passed  between  them. 
The  resolution  was  taken,  however ;  the  blow  was  neces- 
BS,Ti\y  to  be  struck  ;  and  her  ungrateful  lover,  long  since  de- 
termined agaiust  the  life  of  domestic  happiness  which  he 
might  have  enjoyed  had  his  views  been  better  regulated, 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  57 

was  now  occupied  with  the  means,  not  indeed  of  breaking 
off  with  her  entirely,  but  of  postponing  all  thoughts  of  their 
union  until  the  success  of  his  expedition  to  India. 

He  might  have  spared  himself  all  anxiety  on  this  last  sub- 
ject. The  wealth  of  that  India  to  which  he  was  bound 
would  not  have  bribed  Menie  Gray  to  have  left  her  father's 
roof  against  her  father's  commands  ;  still  less  when,  de- 
prived of  his  two  assistants,  he  must  be  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  continued  exertion  in  his  declining  life,  and 
therefore  might  have  accounted  himself  altogether  deserted 
had  his  daughter  departed  from  him  at  the  same  time.  But 
though  it  would  have  been  her  unalterable  determination 
not  to  accept  any  proposal  of  an  immediate  union  of  their 
fortunes,  Menie  could  not,  with  all  a  lover's  power  of  self- 
deception,  succeed  in  persuading  herself  to  be  satisfied  with 
Richard's  conduct  towards  her.  Modesty  and  a  becoming 
pride  prevented  her  from  seeming  to  notice,  but  could  not 
prevent  her  from  bitterly  feeling,  that  her  lover  was  pre- 
ferring the  pursuits  of  ambition  to  the  humble  lot  which  he 
might  have  shared  with  her,  and  which  promised  content  at 
least,  if  not  wealth. 

*'If  he  had  loved  me  as  he  pretended, '*  such  was  the  un- 
willing conviction  that  rose  on  her  mind,  ''my  father  would 
surely  not  have  ultimately  refused  him  the  same  terms 
which  he  held  out  to  Hartley.  His  objections  would  have 
given  way  to  my  happiness,  nay,  to  Richard's  importunities, 
which  would  have  removed  his  suspicions  of  the  unsettled 
cast  of  his  disposition.  But  I  fear — I  fear  Richard  hardly 
thought  the  terms  proposed  were  worthy  of  his  acceptance. 
Would  it  not  have  been  natural,  too,  that  he  should  have 
asked  me,  engaged  as  we  stand  to  each  other,  to  have  united 
our  fate  before  his  quitting  Europe,  when  I  might  either 
have  remained  here  with  my  father,  or  accompanied  him  to 
India,  in  quest  of  that  fortune  which  he  is  so  eagerly  push- 
ing for  ?  It  would  have  been  wrong — very  wrong — in  me 
to  have  consented  to  such  a  proposal,  unless  my  father  had 
authorized  it ;  but  surely  it  would  have  been  natural  that 
Richard  should  have  offered  it  ?  Alas  !  men  do  not  know 
how  to  love  like  women.  Their  attachment  is  only  one  of  a 
thousand  other  passions  and  predilections  :  they  are  daily  en- 
gaged in  pleasures  which  blunt  their  feelings,  and  in  busi- 
ness which  distracts  them.  We — we  sit  at  home  to  weep, 
and  to  think  how  coldly  our  affections  are  repaid  ! " 

The  time  was  now  arrived  at  which  Richard  Middlemas 
had  a  right  to  demand  the  property  vested  in  the  hands  of 


58  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

the  town-clerk  and  Doctor  Gray.  He  did  so,  and  received 
it  accordingfly.  His  late  guardian  naturally  inq[uired  what 
views  he  had  formed  in  entering  on  life  ?  The  imagination 
of  the  ambitious  aspirant  saw  in  this  simple  question  a  de- 
sire, on  the  part  of  the  worthy  man,  to  offer,  and  perhaps 
press  upon  him,  the  same  proposal  which  he  had  made  to 
Hartley.  He  hastened,  therefore,  to  answer  dryly,  that  he 
had  some  hopes  held  out  to  him  which  he  was  not  at  liberty 
to  communicate  ;  but  that  the  instant  he  reached  Lon- 
don he  would  write  to  the  guardian  of  his  youth  and  ac- 
quaint him  with  the  nature  of  his  prospects,  which  he  was 
happy  to  say  were  rather  of  a  pleasing  character. 

Gideon,  who  supposed  that  at  this  critical  period  of  his 
life  the  father  or  grandfather  of  the  young  man  might  per- 
haps have  intimated  a  disposition  to  open  some  intercourse 
with  him,  only  replied,  "  You  have  been  the  child  of  mys- 
tery, Richard  ;  and  as  you  came  to  me,  so  you  leave  me. 
Then  I  was  ignorant  from  whence  you  came,  and  now  I 
know  not  whither  you  are  going.  It  is  not,  perhaps,  a  very 
favorable  point  in  your  horoscope  that  everything  connected 
with  you  is  a  secret.  But  as  I  shall  always  think  with  kind- 
ness on  him  whom  I  have  known  so  long,  so  when  you  re- 
member the  old  man,  you  ought  not  to  forget  that  he  has 
done  his  duty  to  you  to  the  extent  of  his  means  and  power, 
and  taught  you  that  noble  profession  by  means  of  which, 
wherever  your  lot  casts  you,  you  may  always  gain  your  bread, 
and  alleviate,  at  the  same  time,  the  distresses  of  your  fellow- 
creatures."  Middlemas  was  excited  by  the  simple  kindness 
of  his  master,  and  poured  forth  his  thanks  with  the  greater 
profusion,  that  he  was  free  from  the  terror  of  the  emblemat- 
ical collar  and  chain,  which  a  moment  before  seemed  to 
glisten  in  the  hand  of  his  guardian,  and  gape  to  inclose  his 
neck. 

"  One  word  more,^*  said  Mr.  Gray,  producing  a  small  ring- 
case.  '^  This  valuable  ring  was  forced  upon  me  by  your  un- 
fortunate mother.  I  have  no  right  to  it,  having  been  amply 
paid  for  my  services  ;  and  I  only  accepted  it  with  the  pur- 

ftose  of  keeping  it  for  you  till  this  moment  should  arrive, 
t  mdy  be  useful,  perhaps,  should  there  occur  any  question 
about  your  identity." 

"  Thanks,  once  more,  my  more  than  father,  for  this  pre- 
cious relic,  which  may  indeed  be  useful.  You  shall  be  repaid, 
if  India  has  diamonds  left." 

*'  India  and  diamonds  I "  said  Gray.  "  Is  your  head  turned, 
child?" 


THE  S  URGEON '  -S  DA  UGHTEE  b^ 

**  I  mean,"  stammered  Middlemas,  ^'  if  London  has  any 
Indian  diamonds." 

"  Pooh  !  you  foolish  lad/'  answered  Gray,  "  how  should 
you  buy  diamonds,  or  what  should  I  do  with  them,  if  you 
gave  me  ever  so  many  ?  Get  you  gone  with  you  while  I  am 
angry/'  The  tears  were  glistening  in  the  old  man's  eyes. 
"  If  I  get  pleased  with  you  again,  I  shall  not  know  how  to 
part  with  you." 

The  parting  of  Middlemas  with  poor  Menie  was  yet  more 
affecting.  Her  sorrow  revived  in  his  mind  all  the  liveliness 
of  a  first  love,  and  he  redeemed  his  character  for  sincere  at- 
tachment by  not  only  imploring  an  instant  union,  but  even 
going  so  far  as  to  propose  renouncing  his  more  splendid  pros- 
pects, and  sharing  Mr.  Gray's  humble  toil,  if  by  doing  so  he 
could  secure  his  daughter's  hand.  But,  though  there  was 
consolation  in  this  testimony  of  her  lover's  faith,  Menie  Gray 
was  not  so  unwise  as  to  accept  of  sacrifices  which  might  after- 
wards have  been  repented  of. 

**No,  Richard,"  she  said,  *^  it  seldom  ends  happily  when 
people  alter,  in  a  moment  of  agitated  feeling,  plans  which 
have  been  adopted  under  mature  deliberation.  I  have  long 
seen  that  your  views  were  extended  far  beyond  so  humble  a 
station  as  this  place  affords  promise  of.  It  is  natural  they 
should  do  so,  considering  that  the  circumstances  of  your  birth 
seem  connected  with  riches  and  with  rank.  Go,  then,  seek 
that  riches  and  rank.  It  is  possible  your  mind  may  be 
changed  in  the  pursuit,  and  if  so,  think  no  more  about  Menie 
Gray.  But  if  it  should  be  otherwise,  we  may  meet  again, 
and  do  not  believe  for  a  moment  that  there  can  be  a  change 
in  Menie  Gray's  feelings  towards  you." 

At  this  interview  much  more  was  said  than  it  is  neces- 
sary to  repeat,  much  more  thought  than  was  actually  said. 
Nurse  Jamieson,  in  whose  chamber  it  took  place,  folded  her 
"  bairns,"  as  she  called  them,  in  her  arms,  and  declared  that 
Heaven  had  made  them  for  each  other,  and  that  she  would 
not  ask  of  Heaven  to  live  beyond  the  day  when  she  should 
see  them  bridegroom  and  bride. 

At  length  it  became  necessary  that  the  parting  scene  should 
end ;  and  Richard  Middlemas,  mounting  a  horse  which  he 
had  hired  for  the  journey,  set  off  for  Edinburgh,  to  which 
metropolis  he  had  already  forwarded  his  heavy  baggage. 
Upon  the  road  the  idea  more  than  once  occurred  to  him  that 
even  yet  he  had  better  return  to  Middlemas,  and  secure  his 
happiness  by  uniting  himself  at  once  to  Menie  Gray  and  to 
humble  competence.     But  from  the  moment  that  he  rejoined 


80  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

his  friend  Hillary  at  their  appointed  place  of  rendezvous  he 
became  ashamed  even  to  hint  at  any  change  of  purpose  ;  and 
his  late  excited  feelings  were  forgotten,  unless  in  so  far  as 
they  confirmed  his  resolution  that,  as  soon  as  he  had  attained 
a  certain  portion  of  wealth  and  consequence,  he  would  haste 
to  share  them  with  Menie  Gray.  Yet  his  gratitude  to  her 
father  did  not  appear  to  have  slumbered,  if  we  may  Judge 
from  the  gift  of  a  very  handsome  cornelian  seal,  set  in  gold, 
and  bearing  engraved  upon  it  gules,  a  lion  rampant  within  a 
bordure  or,  which  was  carefully  despatched  to  Stevenlaw's 
Land,  Middlemas,  with  a  suitable  letter.  Menie  knew  the 
handwriting,  and  watched  her  father^s  looks  as  he  read  it, 
thinking,  perhaps,  that  it  had  turned  on  a  different  topic. 
Her  father  pshawed  and  poohed  a  good  deal  when  he  had 
finished  the  billet,  and  examined  the  seal. 

*'  Dick  Middlemas,''  he  said,  "  is  but  a  fool  after  all,  Menie. 
I  am  sure  I  am  not  like  to  forget  him,  that  he  should  send  me 
a  token  of  remembrance  ;  and  if  he  would  be  so  absurd,  could 
he  not  have  sent  me  the  improved  lithotomical  apparatus  ? 
And  what  have  I,  Grideon  Gray,  to  do  with  the  arms  of  my 
Lord  Gray  ?  No — no,  my  old  silver  stamp,  with  the  double 
G  upon  it,  will  serve  my  turn.  But  put  the  bonny  diea.way, 
Menie,  my  dear  ;  it  was  kindly  meant,  at  any  rate.'' 

The  reader  cannot  doubt  that  the  seal  was  safely  and  eere- 
fully  preserved. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  lazar-house  it  seemed,  wherein  were  laid 
Numbers  of  all  diseased. 

Milton. 

After  the  captain  had  finished  his  business,  amongst  which 
he  did  not  forget  to  have  his  recruit  regularly  attested  as  a 
candidate  for  glory  in  the  service  of  the  Honorable  East 
India  Company,  the  friends  left  Edinburgh.  From  thence 
they  got  a  passage  by  sea  to  Newcastle,  where  Hillary  had 
also  some  regimental  affairs  to  transact  before  he  joined  his 
regiment.  At  Newcastle  the  captain  had  the  good  luck  to 
find  a  small  brig,  commanded  by  an  old  acquaintance  and 
schoolfellow,  which  was  just  about  to  sail  for  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  "  I  have  arranged  for  our  passage  with  him,^'  hb 
said  to  Middlemas  ;  ^'  for  when  you  are  at  the  depot  you  can 
learn  a  little  of  your  duty,  which  cannot  be  so  well  taught 
on  board  of  ship,  and  then  I  will  find  it  easier  to  have  you 
promoted.'' 

''  Do  you  mean,''  said  Richard,  "that  I  am  to  stay  at  the 
Isle  of  Wight  all  the  time  that  you  are  jigging  it  away  in 
London  ?" 

'*  Ay,  indeed  do  I,"  said  his  comrade,  "  and  it's  best  for 
you  too  ;  whatever  business  you  have  in  London,  I  can  do 
it  for  you  as  well  or  something  better  than  yourself. " 

"  But  I  choose  to  transact  my  own  business  myself,  Cap- 
tain Hillary,"  said  Richard. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  have  remained  your  own  master,  Mr. 
Cadet  Middlemas.  At  present  you  are  an  enlisted  recruit 
of  the  Honorable  East  India  Company ;  I  am  your  officer, 
and  should  you  hesitate  to  follow  me  aboard,  why,  you  fool- 
ish fellow,  I  could  have  you  sent  on  board  in  handcuffs." 

This  was  jestingly  spoken  ;  but  yet  there  was  something 
in  the  tone  which  hurt  Middlemas's  pride  and  alarmed  his 
fears.  He  had  observed  of  late  that  his  friend,  especially 
when  in  company  of  others,  talked  to  him  with  an  air  of 
command  or  superiority,  difficult  to  be  endured,  and  yet  so 
closely  allied  to  the  freedom  often  exercised  betwixt  two 
intimates,  that  he  could  not  find  any  proper  mode  of  rebuff- 
ing or  resenting  it.     Such  manifestations  of  authority  were 


82  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

usually  followed  by  an  instant  renewal  of  their  intimacy ; 
but  in  the  present  case  that  did  not  so  speedily  ensue. 

Middlemas,  indeed,  consented  to  go  with  his  companion 
to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  perhaps  because  if  he  should  quarrel 
with  him  the  whole  plan  of  his  Indian  voyage,  and  all  the 
hopes  built  upon  it,  must  fall  to  the  ground.  But  he  altered 
his  purpose  of  entrusting  his  comrade  with  his  little  for- 
tune, to  lay  out  as  his  occasions  mighf  require,  and  resolved 
himself  to  overlook  the  expenditure  of  his  money,  which,  in 
the  form  of  Bank  of  England  notes,  was  safely  deposited  in 
his  traveling-trunk.  Captain  Hillary,  finding  that  some 
hint  he  had  thrown  out  on  this  subject  was  disregarded, 
appeared  to  think  no  more  about  it. 

The  voyage  was  performed  with  safety  and  celerity  ;  and 
having  coasted  the  shores  of  that  beautiful  island,  which  he 
who  once  sees  never  forgets,  through  whatever  part  of  the 
world  his  future  path  may  lead  him,  the  vessel  was  soon 
anchored  off  the  little  town  of  Eyde  ;  and,  as  the  waves 
were  uncommonly  still,  Richard  felt  the  sickness  diminish 
which,  for  a  considerable  part  of  the  passage,  had  occupied 
his  attention  more  than  anything  else. 

The  master  of  the  brig,  in  honor  to  his  passengers  and 
affection  to  his  old  schoolfellow,  had  formed  an  awning  upon 
deck,  and  proposed  to  have  the  pleasure  of  giving  them  a 
little  treat  before  they  left  his  vessel.  Lobscouse,  sea-pie, 
and  other  delicacies  of  a  naval  description  had  been  pro- 
vided in  a  quantity  far  disproportionate  to  the  number  of 
the  guests.  But  the  punch  which  succeeded  was  of  excel- 
lent quality,  and  portentously  strong.  Captain  Hillary 
pushed  it  round,  and  insisted  upon  his  companion  taking 
his  full  share  in  the  merry  bout,  the  rather  that,  as  he  fa- 
cetiously said,  there  had  been  some  dryness  between  them, 
which  good  liquor  would  be  sovereign  in  removing.  He 
renewed,  with  additional  splendors,  the  various  panoramic 
scenes  of  India  and  Indian  adventures  which  had  first  ex- 
cited the  ambition  of  Middlemas,  and  assured  him  that, 
even  if  he  should  not  be  able  to  get  him  a  commission  in- 
stantly, yet  a  short  delay  would  only  give  him  time  to  be- 
come better  acquainted  with  his  military  duties  ;  and  Mid- 
dlemas was  too  much  elevated  by  the  liquor  he  had  drank  to 
see  any  difficulty  which  could  oppose  itself  to  his  fortunes. 
Whether  those  who  shared  in  the  compotation  were  more 
seasoned  topers,  whether  Middlemas  drank  more  than  they, 
or  whether,  as  he  himself  afterwards  suspected,  his  cup  had 
been  drugged,  like  those  of  King  Duncan's  body-guard,  it 


THE  S URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  63 

is  certain  that  on  this  occasion  he  passed,  with  nnnsual  rapid- 
ity, through  all  the  different  phases  of  the  respectable 
state  of  drunkenness — laughed,  sung,  whooped,  and  hal- 
looed, was  maudlin  in  his  fondness  and  frantic  in  his  wrath, 
and  at  length  fell  into  a  fast  and  imperturbable  sleep. 

The  effect  of  the  liquor  displayed  itself,  as  usual,  in  a 
hundred  wild  dreams  of  parched  deserts,  and  of  serpents 
whose  bite  inflicted  the  most  intolerable  thirst,  of  the  suffer- 
ing of  the  Indian  on  the  death-stake,  and  the  torments  of 
the  infernal  regions  themselves,  when  at  length  he  awakened, 
und  it  appeared  that  the  latter  vision  was  in  fact  realized. 
The  sounds  which  had  at  first  influenced  his  dreams,  and  at 
length  broken  his  slumbers,  were  of  the  most  horrible  as  well 
as  the  most  melancholy  description.  They  came  from  the 
ranges  of  pallet-beds  which  were  closely  packed  together  in 
a  species  of  military  hospital,  where  a  burning  fever  was  the 
prevalent  complaint.  Many  of  the  patients  were  under  the 
influence  of  a  high  delirium,  during  which  they  shouted, 
shrieked,  laughed,  blasphemed,  and  uttered  the  most  hor- 
rible imprecations.  Others,  sensible  of  their  condition, 
bewailed  it  with  low  groans  and  some  attempts  at  devotion, 
which  showed  their  ignorance  of  the  principles,  and  even 
the  forms,  of  religion.  Those  who  were  convalescent  talked 
ribaldry  in  a  loud  tone,  or  whispered  to  each  other  in  cant 
language,  upon  schemes  which,  as  far  as  a  passing  phrase 
could  be  understood  by  a  novice,  had  relation  to  violent  and 
criminal  exploits. 

Richard  Middlemas's  astonishment  was  equal  to  his  horror. 
He  had  but  one  advantage  over  the  poor  wretches  with 
whom  he  was  classed,  and  it  was  in  enjoying  the  luxury  of  a 
pallet  to  himself,  most  of  the  others  being  occupied  by  two 
unhappy  beings.  He  saw  no  one  who  appeared  to  attend  to 
the  wants,  or  to  heed  the  complaints,  of  the  wretches  around 
him,  or  to  whom  he  could  offer  any  appeal  against  his  pres- 
ent situation.  He  looked  for  his  clothes,  that  he  might  arise 
and  extricate  himself  from  this  den  of  horrors  ;  but  his 
clothes  were  nowhere  to  be  seen,  nor  did  he  see  his  port- 
manteau or  sea-chest.  It  was  much  to  be  apprehended  he 
would  never  see  them  more. 

Then,  but  too  late,  he  remembered  the  insinuations  which 
had  passed  current  respecting  his  friend  the  captain,  who 
was  supposed  to  have  been  discharged  by  Mr.  Lawford  on 
account  of  some  breach  of  trust  in  the  town-clerk^s  service. 
But  that  he  should  have  trepanned  the  friend  who  had 
reposed  his  whole  confidence  in  him,  that  he  should  have 


64  WAVERL  Y  NO  VELS 

plundered  him  of  his  fortune,  and  placed  him  in  this  house 
of  pestilence,  with  the  hope  that  death  might  stifle  his 
tongue,  were  iniquities  not  to  have  been  anticipated,  even  if 
the  worst  of  these  reports  were  true. 

But  Middlemas  resolved  not  to  be  awanting  to  himself. 
This  place  must  be  visited  by  some  officer,  military  or 
medical,  to  whom  he  would  make  an  appeal,  and  alarm  his 
fears  at  least,  if  he  could  not  awaken  his  conscience.  While 
he  revolved  these  distracting  thoughts,  tormented  at  the 
same  time  by  a  burning  thirst  which  he  had  no  means  of 
satisfying,  he  endeavored  to  discover  if,  among  those 
stretched  upon  the  pallets  nearest  him,  he  could  not  discern 
some  one  likely  to  enter  into  conversation  with  him,  and 
give  him  some  information  about  the  nature  and  customs  of 
this  horrid  place.  But  the  bed  nearest  him  was  occupied  by 
two  fellows  who,  although,  to  judge  from  their  gaunt  cheeks, 
hollow  eyes,  and  ghastly  looks,  they  were  apparently  recover- 
ing from  the  disease,  and  just  rescued  from  the  jaws  of  death, 
were  deeply  engaged  in  endeavoring  to  cheat  each  other  of  a 
few  halfpence  at  a  game  of  cribbage,  mixing  the  terms  of 
the  game  with  oaths  not  loud  but  deep  ;  each  turn  of  luck 
being  hailed  by  the  winner  as  well  as  the  loser  with  execra- 
tions, which  seemed  designed  to  blight  both  body  and  soul, 
now  used  as  the  language  of  triumph,  and  now  as  reproaches 
against  fortune. 

Next  to  the  gamblers  was  a  pallet  occupied  indeed  by  two 
bodies,  but  only  one  of  which  was  living  :  the  other  sufferer 
had  been  recently  relieved  from  his  agony. 

**  He  is  dead — he  is  dead  ! "  said  the  wretched  survivor. 

"  Then  do  you  die  too,  and  be  d — d,"  answered  one  of  the 
players,  "  and  then  there  will  be  a  pair  of  you,  as  Pugg 
says.'' 

"  I  tell  you  he  is  growing  stiff  and  cold,'*  said  the  poor 
wretch  :  **the  dead  is  no  bedfellow  for  the  living.  For 
God's  sake,  help  to  rid  me  of  the  corpse." 

"  Ay,  and  get  the  credit  of  having  done  him — as  may  be 
the  case  with  yourself,  friend,  for  he  had  some  two  or  three 
hoggs  about  him " 

**  You  know  you  took  the  last  rap  from  his  breeches- 
pocket  not  an  hour  ago,''  expostulated  the  poor  convalescent. 
"  But  help  me  to  take  the  body  out  of  the  bed,  and  I  will 
not  tell  the  jigger-dubber  that  you  have  been  beforehand 
with  him." 

**You  tell  the  jigger-dubber!"  answered  the  cribbage- 
player.     **  Such  another  word,  and  I  will  twist  your  head 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  <» 

round  till  your  eyes  look  at  the  drummer's  handwriting  on 
your  back.  Hold  your  peace,  and  don't  bother  our  game 
with  your  gammon,  or  I  will  make  you  as  mute  as  your  bed- 
fellow." 

The  unhappy  wretch,  exhausted,  sunk  back  beside  his 
hideous  companion,  and  the  usual  jargon  of  the  game,  in- 
terlarded with  execrations,  went  on  as  before. 

From  this  specimen  of  the  most  obdurate  indifference, 
contrasted  with  the  last  excess  of  misery,  Middlemas  became 
satisfied  how  little  could  be  made  of  an  appeal  to  the  hu- 
manity of  his  fellow-sufferers.  His  heart  sunk  within  him, 
and  the  thoughts  of  the  happy  and  peaceful  home  which  he 
might  have  called  his  own  arose  before  his  overheated  fancy 
with  a  vividness  of  perception  that  bordered  upon  insanity. 
He  saw  before  him  the  rivulet  which  wanders  through  the 
burgh  muir  of  Middlemas,  where  he  had  so  often  set  little 
mills  for  the  amusement  of  Menie  while  she  was  a  child. 
One  draught  of  it  would  have  been  worth  all  the  diamonds 
of  the  East,  which  of  late  he  had  worshiped  with  such 
devotion ;  but  that  draught  was  denied  to  him  as  to  Tan- 
talus. 

Rallying  his  senses  from  this  passing  illusion,  and  knowing 
enough  of  the  practise  of  the  medical  art  to  be  aware  of  the 
necessity  of  preventing  his  ideas  from  wandering,  if  pos- 
sible, he  endeavored  to  recollect  that  he  was  a  surgeon,  and-, 
after  all,  should  not  have  the  extreme  fear  for  the  interior  of 
a  military  hospital  which  its  horrors  might  inspire  into 
strangers  to  the  profession.  But,  though  he  strove  by  such 
recollections  to  rally  his  spirits,  he  was  not  the  less  aware  of 
the  difference  betwixt  the  condition  of  a  surgeon  who  might 
have  attended  such  a  place  in  the  course  of  his  duty  and  a 
poor  inhabitant  who  was  at  once  a  patient  and  a  prisoner. 

A  footstep  was  now  heard  in  the  apartment,  which  seemed 
to  silence  all  the  varied  sounds  of  woe  that  filled  it.  The 
cribbage-party  hid  their  cards  and  ceased  their  oaths  ;  other 
wretches,  whose  complaints  had  arisen  to  frenzy,  left  off 
their  wild  exclamations  and  entreaties  for  assistance.  Agony 
softened  her  shriek.  Insanity  hushed  its  senseless  clamors, 
and  even  Death  seemed  desirous  to  stifle  his  parting  groan 
in  the  presence  of  Captain  Seelencooper.  This  official  was 
the  superintendent,  or,  as  the  miserable  inhabitants  termed 
him,  the  governor,  of  the  hospital.  He  had  all  the  air  of 
having  been  originally  a  turnkey  in  some  ill-regulated  jail — 
a  stout,  short,  bandy-legged  man,  with  one  eye,  and  a 
double  portion  of  ferocity  in  that  which  remained.  He 
5 


^  WAV ERLEY  NOVELS 

wore  an  old-fashioned  tarnished  uniform,  which  did  not 
seem  to  have  been  made  for  him  ;  and  the  voice  in  which 
this  minister  of  humanity  addressed  the  sick  was  that  of  a 
boatswain  shouting  in  the  midst  of  a  storm.  He  had  pistols 
and  a  cutlass  in  his  belt ;  for,  his  mode  of  administration 
being  such  as  provoked  even  hospital  patients  to  revolt,  his 
life  had  been  more  than  once  in  danger  amongst  them.  He 
was  followed  by  two  assistants,  who  carried  handcuffs  and 
strait-jackets. 

As  Seelencooper  made  his  rounds,  complaint  and  pain 
were  hushed,  and  the  flourish  of  the  bamboo  which  he  bore 
in  his  hand  seemed  powerful  as  the  wand  of  a  magician  to 
silence  all  complaint  and  remonstrance. 

"  I  tell  you  the  meat  is  as  sweet  as  a  nosegay  ;  and  for  the 
bread,  it's  good  enough,  and  too  good,  for  a  set  of  lubbers 
that  lie  shamming  Abraham,  and  consuming  the  Eight 
Honorable  Company's  victuals.  I  don't  speak  to  them  that 
are  really  sick,  for  God  knows  I  am  always  for  humanity." 

'*If  that  be  the  case,  sir,"  said  Richard  Middlemas, 
whose  lair  the  captain  had  approached,  while  he  was  thus 
answering  the  low  and  humble  complaints  of  those  by  whose 
bedside  he  passed — *^*if  that  be  the  case,  sir,  I  hope  your 
humanity  will  make  you  attend  to  what  I  say." 

**  And  who  the  devil  are  you  ?"said  the  governor,  turning 
on  him  his  single  eye  of  fire,  while  a  sneer  gathered  on  his 
harsh  features,  which  were  so  well  qualified  to  express  it. 

"  My  name  is  Middlemas  ;  I  come  from  Scotland,  and 
have  been  sent  here  by  some  strange  mistake.  1  am  neither 
a  private  soldier  nor  am  I  indisposed,  more  than  by  the  heat 
of  this  cursed  place." 

"Why  then,  friend,  all  I  have  to  ask  you  is,  whether  you 
are  an  attested  recruit  or  not  ?  " 

"I  was  attested  at  Edinburgh,"  said  Middlemas, 
«  but " 

"  But  what  the  devil  would  you  have,  then  ?  You  are 
enlisted.  The  captain  and  the  doctor  sent  you  here ;  surely 
they  know  best  whether  you  are  private  or  officer,  sick  or 
well." 

"But  I  was  promised,"  said  Middlemas — "promised  by 
Tom  Hilary " 

"  Promised,  were  you  ?  Why,  there  is  not  a  man  here 
that  has  not  been  promised  something  by  somebody  or 
another,  or  perhaps  has  promised  something  to  himself. 
This  is  the  land  of  promise,  my  smart  fellow,  but  you  know 
it  is  India  that  must  be  the  land  of  performance.     So  good 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  61 

morning  to  you.     The  doctor  will  come  his  rounds  presently, 
and  put  you  all  to  rights/' 

''  Stay  but  one  moment — one  moment  only  :  I  have  been 
robbed." 

**  Robbed  !  look  you  there  now,"  said  the  governor, 
'' everybody  that  comes  here  has  been  robbed.  Egad,  I  am 
the  luckiest  fellow  in  Europe  :  other  people  in  my  line  have 
only  thieves  and  blackguards  upon  their  hands  ;  but  none 
come  to  my  ken  but  honest,  decent,  unfortunate  gentlemen 
that  have  been  robbed  ! " 

^'  Take  care  how  you  treat  this  so  lightly,  sir,"  said  Middle- 
mas  ;  ''  I  have  been  robbed  of  a  thousand  pounds." 

Here  Governor  Seelencooper's  gravity  was  totally  over- 
come, and  his  laugh  was  echoed  by  several  of  the  patients, 
either  because  they  wished  to  curry  favor  with  the  superin- 
tendent or  from  the  feeling  which  influences  evil  spirits  to 
rejoice  in  the  tortures  of  those  who  are  sent  to  share  their 
agony. 

*'  A  thousand  pounds  !"  exclaimed  Captain  Seelencooper, 
as  he  recovered  his  breath.  ''  Come,  that's  a  good  one — I 
like  a  fellow  that  does  not  make  two  bites  of  a  cherry  ;  why, 
there  is  not  a  cull  in  the  ken  that  pretends  to  have  lost  more 
than  a  few  hoggs,  and  here  is  a  servant  to  the  Honorable 
Company  that  has  been  robbed  of  a  thousand  pounds  !  Well 
done,  Mr.  Tom  of  Ten  Thousand,  you're  a  credit  to  the 
house,  and  to  the  service,  and  so  good  morning  to  you." 

He  passed  on,  and  Richard,  starting  up  in  a  storm  of 
anger  and  despair,  found,  as  he  would  have  called  after  him, 
that  his  voice,  betwixt  thirst  and  agitation,  refused  its  office. 
*'  Water — water  !  "  he  said,  laying  hold,  at  the  same  time, 
of  one  of  the  assistants  who  followed  Seenlencooper  by  the 
sleeve.  The  fellow  looked  carelessly  round  ;  there  was  a 
jug  stood  by  the  side  of  the  cribbage-players,  which  he 
reached  to  Middlemas,  bidding  him,  "  Drink  and  be  d — d." 

The  man's  back  was  no  sooner  turned  than  the  gamester 
threw  himself  from  his  own  bed  into  that  of  Middlemas,  and 
grasping  firm  hold  of  the  arm  of  Richard,  ere  he  could  carry 
the  vessel  to  his  head,  swore  be  should  not  have  his  booze. 
It  may  be  readily  conjectured  that  the  pitcher  thus  anxiously 
and  desperately  reclaimed  contained  something  better  than 
the  pure  element.  In  fact,  a  large  proportion  of  it  was  gin. 
The  jug  was  broken  in  the  struggle  and  the  liquor  spilt. 
Middlemas  dealt  a  blow  to  the  assailant,  which  was  amply 
and  heartily  repaid,  and  a  combat  would  have  ensued,  but 
for  the  interference  of  the  superintendent  and  his  assistants. 


68  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

who,  with  a  dexterity  that  showed  them  well  acquainted 
with  such  emergencies,  clapped  a  strait-waistcoat  upon  each 
of  the  antagonists.  Richard's  efforts  at  remonstrance  only 
procured  him  a  blow  from  Captain  Seelencooper's  rattan, 
and  a  tender  admonition  to  hold  his  tongue  if  he  valued  a 
whole  skin. 

Irritated  at  once  by  sufferings  of  the  mind  and  of  the 
body,  tormented  by  raging  thirst,  and  by  the  sense  of  his 
own  dreadful  situation,  the  mind  of  Richard  Middlemas 
seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of  becoming  unsettled.  He  felt 
an  insane  desire  to  imitate  and  reply  to  the  groans,  oaths, 
and  ribaldry  which,  as  soon  as  the  superintendent  quitted 
the  hospital,  echoed  around  him.  He  longed,  though  he 
struggled  against  the  impulse,  to  vie  in  curses  with  the 
reprobate,  and  in  screams  with  the  maniac.  But  his  tongue 
clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  his  mouth  itself  seemed 
choked  with  ashes  ;  there  came  upon  him  a  dimness  of  sight, 
a  rushing  sound  in  his  ears,  and  the  powers  of  life  were  foi 
a  time  suspended. 


CHAPTER  Vn 

A  wise  physician,  skill'd  our  wounds  to  heal, 
Is  more  than  armies  to  the  common  weal. 

Pope's  Homer. 

As  Middlemas  returned  to  his  senses,  he  was  sensible  that 
his  blood  felt  more  cool,  that  the  feverish  throb  of  his  pul- 
sation was  diminished,  that  the  ligatures  on  his  person  were 
removed,  and  his  lungs  performed  their  functions  more 
freely.  One  assistant  was  binding  up  a  vein,  from  Trmcti  a 
considerable  quantity  of  blood  had  been  taken  ;  another, 
who  had  just  washed  the  face  of  the  patient,  was  holding 
aromatic  vinegar  to  his  nostrils.  As  he  began  to  open  his 
eyes,  xne  person  who  had  jnst  completed  the  bandage  said 
in  Latin,  but  in  a  very  low  tone,  and  without  raising  his 
head,  ^''Annon  sis  Ricardus  ille  Middlemas,  ex  civitate 
Middlemassiense  ?     Responde  in  lingua  Latina." 

^'  Sum  ille  miserrimus,"  replied  Richard,  again  shutting 
his  eyes  ;  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  voice  of  his  com- 
rade Adam  Hartley,  though  his  presence  might  be  of 
so  much  consequence  in  this  emergency,  conveyed  a  pang  to 
his  wounded  pride.  He  was  conscious  of  unkindly,  if  not 
hostile,  feelings  towards  his  old  companion  ;  he  remembered 
the  tone  of  superiority  which  he  used  to  assume  over  him, 
and  thus  to  lie  stretched  at  his  feet,  and  in  a  manner  at 
his  mercy,  aggravated  his  distress,  by  the  feelings  of  the 
dying  chieftain,  "  Earl  Percy  sees  my  fall."  This  was,  how- 
ever, too  unreasonable  an  emotion  to  subsist  above  a  minute. 
In  the  next,  he  availed  himself  of  the  Latin  language,  with 
which  both  were  familiar,  for  in  that  time  the  medical 
studies  at  the  celebrated  University  of  Edinburgh  were,  in  a 
great  measure,  conducted  in  Latin,  to  tell  in  a  few  words 
his  own  folly,  and  the  villainy  of  Hillary. 

*'  I  must  be  gone  instantly,"  said  Hartley.  "  Take  cour- 
age ;  I  trust  to  be  able  to  assist  you.  In  the  meantime, 
take  food  and  physic  from  none  but  my  servant,  who  you 
see  holds  the  sponge  in  his  hand.  You  are  in  a  place 
where  a  man's  life  has  been  taken  for  the  sake  of  his  gold 
sleeve-buttons." 

69 


70  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

''  Stay  yet  a  moment,"  said  Middlemas.  ''  Let  me  re- 
move this  temptation  from  my  dangerous  neighbors. '^ 

He  drew  a  small  packet  from  his  under  waistcoat,  and 
put  it  into  Hartley's  hands. 

'*  If  I  die,"  he  said,  "  be  my  heir.  You  deserve  her 
better  than  I." 

All  answer  was  prevented  by  the  hoarse  voice  of  Seelen- 
cooper. 

"  Well,  doctor,  will  you  carry  through  your  patient  ?  " 

"  Symptoms  are  dubious  yet,"  said  the  doctor.  "  That 
was  an  alarming  swoon.  You  must  have  him  carried  into 
the  private  ward,  and  my  young  man  shall  attend  him." 

'*  Why,  if  you  command  it,  doctor,  needs  must ;  but  I  can 
tell  you  there  is  a  man  we  both  know  that  has  a  thousand 
reasons  at  least  for  keeping  him  in  the  public  ward." 

*'  I  know  nothing  of  your  thousand  reasons,"  said  Hartley  ; 
"  I  can  only  tell  you  that  this  young  fellow  is  as  well-limbed 
and  likely  a  lad  as  the  Company  have  among  their  recruits. 
It  is  my  business  to  save  him  foj*  their  service,  and  if  he  dies 
by  your  neglecting  what  I  direct,  depend  upon  it  I  will  not 
allow  the  blame  to  lie  at  my  door.  I  will  tell  the  General 
the  charge  I  have  given  you." 

"  The  General  ! "  said  Seelencooper,  much  embarrassed. 
"  Tell  the  General  ?  Ay,  about  his  health.  But  you  will 
not  say  anything  about  what  he  may  have  said  in  his  light- 
headed fits  ?  My  eyes !  if  you  listen  to  what  feverish 
patients  say  when  the  tantivy  is  in  their  brain,  your  back 
will  soon  break  with  tale-bearing,  for  I  will  warrant  you 
plenty  of  them  to  carry." 

*'  Captain  Seelencooper,"  said  the  doctor,  '*  I  do  not 
meddle  with  your  department  in  the  hospital.  My  advice 
to  you  is,  not  to  trouble  yourself  with  mine.  I  suppose,  as 
I  have  a  commission  in  the  service,  and  have  besides  a  reg- 
ular diploma  as  a  physician,  I  know  when  my  patient  is 
light-headed  or  otherwise.  So  do  you  let  the  man  be  care- 
fully looked  after,  at  your  peril." 

Thus  saying,  he  left  the  hospital,  but  not  till,  under  pre- 
text of  again  consulting  the  pulse,  he  pressed  the  patient's 
hand,  as  if  to  assure  him  once  more  of  his  exertions  for  his 
liberation. 

''  My  eyes  ! "  muttered  Seelencooper,  "  this  cockerel 
crows  gallant,  to  come  from  a  Scotch  roost ;  but  I  would 
know  well  enough  how  to  fetch  the  youngster  off  the  perch, 
if  it  were  not  for  the  cure  he  has  done  on  the  General's 
pickaninnies, '* 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  71 

Enongh  of  this  fell  on  Richard's  ear  to  suggest  hopes  of 
deliverance,  which  were  increased  when  he  was  shortly  after- 
wards removed  to  a  separate  ward,  a  place  much  more 
decent  in  appearance,  and  inhabited  only  by  two  patients, 
who  seemed  petty  officers.  Although  sensible  that  he  had 
no  illness  save  that  weakness  which  succeeds  violent  agitation, 
he  deemed  it  wisest  to  suffer  himself  still  to  be  treated  as  a 
patient,  in  consideration  that  he  should  thus  remain  under 
his  comrade's  superintendence.  Yet,  while  preparing  to 
avail  himself  of  Hartley's  good  offices,  the  prevailing  reflec- 
tion of  his  secret  bosom  was  the  ungrateful  sentiment,  '^  Had 
Heaven  no  other  means  of  saving  me  than  by  the  hands  of 
him  I  like  least  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ?  " 

Meanwhile,  ignorant  of  the  ungrateful  sentiments  of  his 
comrade,  and  indeed  wholly  indifferent  how  he  felt  towards 
him.  Hartley  proceeded  in  doing  him  such  service  as  was  in 
his  power,  without  any  other  object  than  the  discharge  of 
his  own  duty  as  a  man  and  as  a  Christian.  The  manner  in 
which  he  became  qualified  to  render  his  comrade  assistance 
requires  some  short  explanation. 

Our  story  took  place  at  a  period  when  the  Directors  of  the 
East  India  Company,  with  that  hardy  and  persevering 
policy  which  has  raised  to  such  a  height  the  British  Empire 
in  the  East,  had  determined  to  send  a  large  reinforcement 
of  European  troops  to  the  support  of  their  power  in  India, 
then  threatened  by  the  kingdom  of  Mysore,  of  which  the 
celebrated  Hyder  Ali  had  usurped  the  government,  after 
dethroning  his  master.  Considerable  difficulty  was  found 
in  obtaining  recruits  for  that  service.  Those  who  might 
have  been  otherwise  disposed  to  be  soldiers  were  afraid  of 
the  climate,  and  of  the  species  of  banishment  which  the  en- 
gagement implied  ;  and  doubted  also  how  far  the  engage- 
ments of  the  Company  might  be  faithfully  observed  towards 
them,  when  they  were  removed  from  the  protection  of  the 
British  laws.  For  these  and  other  reasons,  the  military 
service  of  the  king  was  preferred,  and*  that  of  the  Company 
could  only  procure  the  worst  recuits,  although  their  zealous 
agents  scrupled  not  to  employ  the  worst  means.  Indeed, 
the  practise  of  kidnapping,  or  crimping,  as  it  is  technically 
called,  was  at  that  time  general,  whether  for  the  colonies  or 
even  for  the  king's  troops ;  and  as  the  agents  employed  in 
such  transactions  must  be  of  course  entirely  unscrupulous, 
there  was  not  only  much  villainy  committed  in  the  direct 
prosecution  of  the  trade,  but  it  gave  rise  incidentally  to  re- 
markable cases  of  robbery,  and  even  murder.    Such  atrocitiess 


72  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

were,  of  course,  concealed  from  the  authorities  for  whom 
the  levies  were  made,  and  the  necessity  of  obtaining  soldiers 
made  men  whose  conduct  was  otherwise  unexceptionable 
cold  in  looking  closely  into  the  mode  in  which  their  recruit- 
ing service  was  conducted. 

The  principal  dep6t  of  the  troops  which  were  by  these 
means  assembled  was  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  where,  the  season 
proving  unhealthy,  and  the  men  themselves  being  many  of 
them  of  a  bad  habit  of  body,  a  fever  of  a  malignant  character 
broke  out  amongst  them,  and  speedily  crowded  with  patients 
the  military  hospital,  of  which  Mr.  Seelencooper,  himself  an 
old  and  experienced  crimp  and  kidnapper,  had  obtained  the 
superintendence.  Irregularities  began  to  take  place  also 
among  the  soldiers  who  remained  healthy,  and  the  necessity 
of  subjecting  them  to  some  discipline  before  they  sailed  was 
so  evident,  that  several  officers  of  the  Company's  naval 
service  expressed  their  belief  that  otherwise  there  would  be 
dangerous  mutinies  on  the  passage. 

To  remedy  the  first  of  these  evils,  the  Court  of  Directors 
sent  down  to  the  island  several  of  their  medical  servants, 
amongst  whom  was  Hartley,  whose  qualifications  had  been 
amply  certified  by  a  medical  board,  before  which  he  had 
passed  an  examination,  besides  his  possessing  a  diploma  from 
the  University  of  Edinburgh  as  M.  D. 

To  enforce  the  discipline  of  their  soldiers,  the  Court  com- 
mitted full  power  to  one  of  their  own  body.  General  Wither- 
ington.  The  General  was  an  officer  who  had  distinguished 
himself  highly  in  their  service.  He  had  returned  from 
India  five  or  six  years  before,  with  a  large  fortune,  which 
he  had  rendered  much  greater  by  an  advantageous  marriage 
with  a  rich  heiress.  The  General  and  his  lady  went  little 
into  society,  but  seemed  to  live  entirely  for  their  infant 
family,  those  in  number  being  three,  two  boys  and  a  girl. 
Although  he  had  retired  from  the  service,  he  willingly  under- 
took the  temporary  charge  committed  to  him,  and  taking  a 
house  at  a  considerable  distance  from  the  town  of  Ryde,  he 
proceeded  to  enrol  the  troops  into  separate  bodies,  appoint 
officers  of  capacity  to  each,  and,  by  regular  training  and 
discipline,  gradually  to  bring  them  into  something  resem- 
bling good  order.  He  heard  their  complaints  of  ill-usage  in 
the  articles  of  provisions  and  appointments,  and  did  them 
upon  all  occasions  the  strictest  justice,  save  that  he  was 
never  known  to  restore  one  recuit  to  his  freedom  from  the 
service,  however  unfairly  or  even  illegally  his  attestation 
might  have  been  obtained. 


THE  8  UBGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  73 

*'It  is  none  of  my  business,"  said  General  Witherington, 
**  how  you  became  soldiers — soldiers  I  found  you,  and  sol- 
diers I  will  leave  you.  But  I  will  take  especial  care  that, 
as  soldiers  you  shall  have  everything,  to  a  penny  or  a  pin's 
head,  that  you  are  justly  entitled  to."  He  went  to  work 
without  fear  or  favor,  reported  many  abuses  to  the  Board 
of  Directors,  had  several  officers,  commissaries,  etc.,  re- 
moved from  the  service,  and  made  his  name  as  great  a  terror 
to  the  peculators  at  home  as  it  had  been  to  the  enemies  of 
Britain  in  Hindostan. 

Captain  Seelencooper  and  his  associates  in  the  hospital  de- 
partment heard  and  trembled,  fearing  that  their  turn  should 
come  next  ;  but  the  General,  who  elsewhere  examined  all 
with  his  own  eyes,  showed  a  reluctance  to  visit  the  hospital 
in  person.  Public  report  industriously  imputed  this  to  fear 
of  infection.  Such  was  certainly  the  motive  ;  though  it 
was  not  fear  for  his  own  safety  that  influenced  General 
Witherington,  but  he  dreaded  lest  he  should  carry  the  in- 
fection home  to  the  nursery,  on  which  he  doated.  The 
alarm  of  his  lady  was  yet  more  unreasonably  sensitive  :  she 
would  scarcely  suffer  the  children  to  walk  abroad,  if  the  wind 
but  blew,  from  the  quarter  where  the  hospital  was  situated. 

But  Providence  baffles  the  precautions  of  mortals.  In  a 
walk  across  the  fields,  chosen  as  the  most  sheltered  and  se- 
questered, the  children,  with  their  train  of  Eastern  and 
European  attendants,  met  a  woman  who  carried  a  child  that 
was  recovering  from  the  small-pox.  The  anxiety  of  the 
father,  joined  to  some  religious  scruples  on  the  mother's 
part,  had  postponed  inoculation,  which  was  then  scarcely 
come  into  general  use.  The  infection  caught  like  a  quick- 
match,  and  ran  like  wildfire  through  all  those  in  the  family 
who  had  not  previously  had  the  disease.  One  of  the  Gen- 
eral's children,  the  second  boy,  died,  and  two  of  the  ayahs, 
or  black  female  servants,  had  the  same  fate.  The  hearts  of 
the  father  and  mother  would  have  been  broken  for  the 
child  they  had  lost,  had  not  their  grief  been  suspended  by 
anxiety  for  the  fate  of  those  who  lived,  and  who  were  con- 
fessed to  be  in  imminent  danger.  They  were  like  persons 
distracted,  as  the  symptoms  of  the  poor  patients  seemed 
gradually  to  resemble  more  nearly  that  of  the  child  already 
lost. 

While  the  parents  were  in  this  agony  of  apprehension, 
the  General's  principal  servant,  a  native  of  Northumber- 
land like  himself,  informed  him  one  morning  that  there  was 
a  young  man  from  the  same  county  among  the  hospital 


74  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

doctors  who  had  publicly  blamed  the  mode  of  treatment 
observed  towards  the  patients,  and  spoken  of  another  which 
he  had  seen  practised  with  eminent  success. 

''Some  impudent  quack/'  said  the  General,  ''who  would 
force  himself  into  business  by  bold  assertions.  Doctor 
Tourniquet  and  Doctor  Lancelot  are  men  of  high  reputa- 
tion. *' 

"  Do  not  mention  their  reputation/'  said  the  mother, 
with  a  mother's  impatience;  "did  they  not  let  my  sweet 
Reuoen  die  ?  What  avails  the  reputation  of  the  physician 
when  the  patient  perisheth  ?'^ 

"  If  his  honor  would  but  see  Doctor  Hartley,"  said 
Winter,  turning  half  towards  the  lady,  and  then  turning 
back  again  to  his  master.  '^He  is  a  very  decent  young 
man,  who,  I  am  sure,  never  expected  what  he  said  to  reach 
your  honor's  ears — and  he  is  a  native  of  Northumberland." 

"  Send  a  servant  with  a  led  horse,"  said  the  General ; 
"let  the  young  man  come  hither  instantly.'' 

It  is  well  known  that  the  ancient  mode  of  treating  the 
small -pox  was  to  refuse  to  the  patient  everything  which 
nature  urged  him  to  desire  ;  and,  in  particular,  to  confine 
him  to  heated  rooms,  beds  loaded  with  blankets,  and  spiced 
wine,  when  nature  called  for  cold  water  and  fresh  air.  A 
different  mode  of  treatment  had  of  late  been  adventured  up- 
on by  some  practitioners,  who  preferred  reason  to  authority 
and  Gideon  Gray  had  followed  it  for  several  years  with  ex- 
traordinary success. 

When  General  Witherington  saw  Hartley,  he  was  startled 
at  his  youth ;  but  when  he  heard  him  modestly,  but  with 
confidence,  state  the  difference  of  the  two  modes  of  treat- 
ment, and  the  rationale  of  his  practise,  he  listened  with  the 
most  serious  attention.  So  did  his  lady,  her  streaming  eyes 
turning  from  Hartley  to  her  husband,  as  if  to  watch  what 
impression  the  arguments  of  the  former  were  making  upon 
the  latter.  General  Witherington  was  silent  for  a  few  min- 
utes after  Hartley  had  finished  his  exposition,  and  seemed 
buried  in  profound  reflection.  "  To  treat  a  fever,"  he  said, 
"  in  a  manner  which  tends  to  produce  one  seems  indeed  to 
be  adding  fuel  to  fire." 

"  It  is — it  is,"  said  the  lady.  "  Let  us  trust  this  young 
man,  General  Witherington.  We  shall  at  least  give  our 
darlings  the  comforts  of  the  fresh  air  and  cold  water  for 
which  they  are  pining/' 

But  the  General  remained  undecided.  "Your  reason- 
ing," he  said  to  Hartley,   "seems  plausible;  but  still  it  ia 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  75 

only  hypothesis.  What  can  you  show  to  support  your  theory 
in  opposition  to  the  general  practise  ?  " 

"  My  own  observation/'  replied  the  younff  man.  *'  Here 
is  a  memorandum-book  of  medical  cases  which  I  have  wit- 
nessed. It  contains  twenty  cases  of  small-pox,  of  which 
eighteen  were  recoveries.'^ 

"And  the  two  others  ?"  said  the  General, 

"  Terminated  fatally/'  replied  Hartley  ;  *'  we  can  as  yet 
but  partially  disarm  this  scourge  of  the  human  race/' 

''Young  man/'  continued  the  General  "were  I  to  say  that 
a  thousand  gold  mohurs  were  yours  in  case  my  children  live 
under  your  treatment,  what  have  you  to  peril  in  exchange  ?  " 

"  My  reputation/'  answered  fiartley,  firmly. 

^'  And  you  could  warrant  on  your  reputation  the  recoyery 
of  your  patients  ? ''' 

"  God  forbid  I  should  be  so  presumptuous  !  But  I  think 
1  could  warrant  my  using  those  means  which,  with  God's 
biessmg,  afford  the  fairest  chance  of  a  favorable  result." 

"  Enough — you  are  modest  and  sensible,  as  well  as  bold, 
and  I  will  trust  you." 

The  lady,  on  whom  Hartley^s  words  and  manner  had  made 
a  great  impression,  and  who  was  eager  to  discontinue  a  mode 
of  treatment  which  subjected  the  patients  to  the  greatest 
pain  and  privation,  and  had  already  proved  unfortunate, 
eagerly  acquiesced,  and  Hartley  was  placed  in  full  authority 
in  the  sick-room. 

Windows  were  thrown  open,  fires  reduced  or  discontinued, 
loads  of  bed-clothes  removed,  cooling  drinks  superseded 
mulled  wine  and  spices.  The  sick-nurses  cried  out  murder. 
Doctors  Tourniquet  and  Lancelot  retired  in  disgust,  menac- 
ing something  Aike  a  general  pestilence,  in  vengeance  of  what 
they  termed  rebellion  against  the  neglect  of  the  aphorisms 
of  Hippocrates.  Hartley  proceeded  quietly  and  steadily,  and 
the  patients  got  into  a  fair  road  of  recovery. 

The  young  Northumbrian  was  neither  conceited  nor  art- 
ful ;  yet,  with  all  his  plainness  of  character,  he  could  not 
but  know  the  influence  which  a  successful  physician  obtains 
over  the  parents  of  the  children  whom  he  has  saved  from  the 
grave,  and  especially  before  the  cure  is  actually  completed. 
He  resolved  to  use  this  influence  in  behalf  of  his  old  com- 
panion,'trusting  that  the  military  tenacity  of  General  With- 
erington  would  give  way  on  consideration  of  the  obligation 
80  lately  conferred  upon  him. 

On  his  way  to  the  General's  house,  which  was  at  present 
his  constant  place  of  residence,  he  examined  the  packet  which 


76  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Middlemas  had  put  into  his  hand.  It  contained  the  picture 
of  Menie  Gray,  plainly  set,  and  the  ring,  with  brilliants, 
which  Doctor  Gray  had  given  to  Richard  as  his  mother's 
last  gift.  The  first  of  these  tokens  extracted  from  honest 
Hartley  a  sigh,  perhaps  a  tear,  of  sad  remembrance.  '*  1 
fear,"  he  said,  "  she  has  not  chosen  worthily  ;  but  she  shall 
be  happy,  if  I  can  make  her  so." 

Arrived  at  the  residence  of  General  Witherington,  our 
doctor  went  first  to  the  sick  apartment,  and  then  carried  to 
their  parents  the  delightful  account  that  the  recovery  of 
the  children  might  be  considered  as  certain.  '*  May  the  God 
of  Israel  bless  thee,  young  man  !  "  said  the  lady,  trembling 
with  emotion  ;  '^  thou  hast  wiped  the  tear  from  the  eye  of  the 
despairing  mother.  And  yet — alas  !  alas  !  still  it  must  flow 
when  I  think  of  my  cherub  Reuben.  Oh  !  Mr.  Hartley, 
why  did  we  not  know  you  a  week  sooner — my  darling  had 
not  then  died  ?  " 

"  God  gives  and  takes  away,  my  lady,"  answered  Hartley  ; 
*'  and  you  must  remember  that  two  are  restored  to  you  out 
of  three.  It  is  far  from  certain  that  the  treatment  I  have 
used  towards  the  convalescents  would  have  brought  through 
their  brother  ;  for  the  case,  as  reported  to  me,  was  of  a  very 
inveterate  description." 

*' Doctor,"  said  Witherington,  his  voice  testifying  more 
emotion  that  he  usually  or  willingly  gave  way  to,  '*  you  can 
comfort  the  sick  in  spirit  as  well  as  the  sick  in  body.  But 
it  is  time  we  settle  our  wager.  You  betted  your  reputation, 
which  remains  with  you,  increased  by  all  the  credit  due  to 
your  eminent  success,  against  a  thousand  gold  mohurs,  the 
value  of  which  you  will  find  in  that  pocket-book." 

"  General  Witherington,"  said  Hartley,  ''  you  are  wealthy, 
and  entitled  to  be  generous  ;  I  am  poor,  and  not  entitled  to 
decline  whatever  may  be,  even  in  a  liberal  sense,  a  compen- 
sation for  my  professional  attendance.  But  there  is  a  bound 
to  extravagance,  both  in  giving  and  accepting  ;  and  I  must 
not  hazard  the  newly-acquired  reputation  with  which  you 
flatter  me  by  giving  room  to  have  it  said  that  I  fleeced  the 
parents  when  their  feelings  were  all  afloat  with  anxiety  for 
their  children.  Allow  me  to  divide  this  large  sum :  one 
half  I  will  thankfully  retain,  as  a  most  liberal  recompense 
for  my  labor ;  and  if  you  still  think  you  owe  me  anything, 
let  me  have  it  in  the  advantage  of  your  good  opinion  and 
countenance." 

**  If  I  acquiesce  in  your  proposal.  Doctor  Hartley,"  said 
the  General,  reluctantly  receiving  back  a  part  of  the  con- 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  77 

tents  of  the  pocket-book,  "  it  is  because  I  hope  to  serve  you 
with  my  interest  even  better  than  with  my  purse/^ 

"And  indeed,  sir/'  replied  Hartley,  "  it  was  upon  your 
interest  that  I  am  just  about  to  make  a  small  claim/' 

The  General  and  his  lady  spoke  both  in  the  same  breath, 
to  assure  him  his  boon  was  granted  before  asked. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Hartley  ;  "  for  it  respects 
a  point  on  which  I  have  heard  say  that  your  Excellency  is 
rather  inflexible — the  discharge  of  a  recruit/' 

*'My  duty  makes  me  so,"  replied  the  General.  "You 
know  the  sort  of  fellows  that  we  are  obliged  to  content  our- 
selves with  :  they  get  drunk,  grow  pot-valiant,  enlist  over- 
night, and  repent  next  morning.  If  I  am  to  dismiss  all 
those  wlio  pretend  to  have  been  trepanned,  we  should  have 
few  volunteers  remaining  behind.  Every  one  has  some  idle 
story  of  the  promises  of  a  swaggering  Sergeant  Kite.  It  is 
impossible  to  attend  them.  But  let  me  hear  yours,  how- 
ever." 

"  Mine  is  a  very  singular  case.  The  party  has  been 
robbed  of  a  thousand  pounds." 

"A  recruit  for  this  service  possessing  a  thousand  pounds  ! 
My  dear  doctor,  depend  upon  it  the  fellow  has  gulled  you. 
Bless  my  heart,  would  a  man  who  had  a  thousand  pounds 
think  of  enlisting  as  a  private  sentinel  ?" 

"  He  had  no  such  thoughts/'  answered  Hartley.  "  He 
was  persuaded  by  the  rogue  whom  he  trusted  that  he  was  to 
have  a  commission." 

"  Then  his  friend  must  have  been  Tom  Hillary,  or  the 
devil ;  for  no  other  could  possess  so  much  cunning  and  im- 
pudence. He  will  certainly  find  his  way  to  the  gallows  at 
fast.  Still  this  story  of  the  thousand  pounds  seems  a  touch 
even  beyond  Tom  Hillary.  What  reason  have  you  to  think 
that  this  fellow  ever  had  such  a  sum  of  money  ?" 

"  I  have  the  best  reason  to  know  it  for  certain,"  answered 
Hartley.  "  He  and  I  served  our  time  together,  under  the 
same  excellent  master ;  and  when  he  became  of  age,  not 
liking  the  profession  which  he  had  studied,  and  obtaining 
possession  of  his  little  fortune,  he  was  deceived  by  the 
promises  of  this  same  Hillary." 

"Who  has  had  him  locked  up  in  our  well-ordered  hos- 
pital yonder  ?  "  said  the  General. 

"  Even  so,  please  your  Excellency,"  replied  Hartley  ;  "  not, 
I  think,  to  cure  him  of  any  complaint,  but  to  give  him  the 
opportunity  of  catching  one,  which  would  silence  all  in- 
quiries/' 


78  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

"The  matter  shall  be  closely  looked  into.  But  how 
miserably  careless  the  young  man^s  friends  must  have  been 
to  let  a  raw  lad  go  into  the  world  with  such  a  companion 
and  guide  as  Tom  Hillary,  and  such  a  sum  as  a  thousand 

Eounds  in  his  pocket.  His  parents  had  better  have  knocked 
im  on  the  head.  It  certainly  was  not  done  like  canny 
Northumberland,  as  my  servant  Winter  calls  it.^' 

"The  youth  must  indeed  have  had  strangely  hard-hearted 
or  careless  parents,"  said  Mrs.  Witherington,  in  accents  of 
pity. 

"  He  never  knew  them,  madam,'^  said  Hartley  ;  "  ther*. 
was  a  mystery  on  the  score  of  his  birth.  A  cold,  unwilling, 
and  almost  unknown  hand  dealt  him  out  his  portion  when 
he  came  of  lawful  age,  and  he  was  pushed  into  the  world 
like  a  bark  forced  from  shore  without  rudder,  compass,  or 
pilot." 

Here  General  Witherington  involuntarily  looked  to  his 
lady,  while  guided  by  a  similar  impulse,  her  looks  were 
turned  upon  him.  They  exchanged  a  momentary  glance  of 
deep  and  peculiar  meaning,  and  then  the  eyes  of  both  were 
fixed  on  the  ground. 

"Were  you  brought  up  in  Scotland  ?"  said  the  lady,  ad- 
dressing herself,  in  a  faltering  voice,  to  Hartley.  "And 
what  was  your  master's  name  ?  "     ' 

"  I  served  my  apprenticeship  with  Mr.  Gideon  Gray,  of 
the  town  of  Middlemas,"  said  Hartley. 

*  *  Middlemas  !  Gray  !  "  repeated  the  lady,  and  fainted 
away. 

Hartley  offered  the  succors  of  his  profession  ;  the  hus- 
band flew  to  support  her  head,  and  the  instant  that  Mrs. 
Witherington  began  to  recover  he  whispered  to  her,  in  a 
tone  betwixt  entreaty  and  warning,  "  Zilia,  beware — be- 
ware ! " 

Some  imperfect  sounds  which  she  had  begun  to  frame 
died  away  upon  her  tongue. 

"  Let  me  assist  you  to  your  dressing-room,  my  love,"  said 
her  obviously  anxious  husband. 

She  arose  with  the  action  of  an  automaton,  which  moves 
at  the  touch  of  a  spring,  and  half-hanging  upon  her  hus- 
band, half-dragging  herself  on  by  her  own  efforts,  had 
nearly  reached  the  door  of  the  room,  when  Hartley,  follow- 
ing, asked  if  he  could  be  of  any  service. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  General,  sternly  :  "  this  is  no  case  for 
a  stranger's  interference ;  when  you  are  wanted  I  will  send 
for  you." 


THE  S  URGEON  'S  BA  UGHTER  TO 

Hartley  stepped  back  on  receiving  a  rebuff  in  a  tone  so 
different  from  that  which  General  Witherington  had  used 
towards  him  in  their  previous  intercourse,  and  [was]  disposed, 
for  the  first  time,  to  give  credit  to  public  report,  which 
assigned  to  that  gentleman,  with  several  good  qualities,  the 
character  of  a  very  proud  and  haughty  man.  "  Hitherto," 
he  thought,  *^I  have  seen  him  tamed  by  sorrow  and  anxiety: 
now  the  mind  is  regaining  its  natural  tension.  But  he  must 
in  decency  interest  himself  for  this  unhappy  Middleman." 

The  General  returned  into  the  apartment  a  minute  or  two 
afterwards,  and  addressed  Hartley  in  his  usual  tone  of  polite- 
ness, though  apparently  still  under  great  embarrassement 
which  he  in  vain  endeavored  to  conceal. 

'*  Mrs.  Witherington  is  better,  he  said,  *'and  will  be  glad 
to  see  you  before  dinner.     You  dine  with  us,  I  hope  ?  " 

Hartley  bowed, 

'^  Mrs.  Witherington  is  rather  subject  to  this  sort  of  ner- 
vous fits,  and  she  has  been  much  harassed  of  late  by  grief 
and  apprehension.  When  she  recovers  from  them,  it  is  a 
few  minutes  before  she  can  collect  her  ideas,  and  during  such 
intervals — to  speak  very  confidentially  to  you,  my  dear  Doc- 
tor Hartley — she  speaks  sometimes  about  imaginary  events 
which  have  never  happened,  and  sometimes  about  distressing 
occurrences  in  an  early  period  of  life.  I  am  not,  therefore, 
willing  that  any  one  but  myself,  or  her  old  attendant,  Mrs. 
Lopez,  should  be  with  her  on  such  occasions.'' 

Hartley  admitted  that  a  certain  degree  of  light-headedness 
was  often  the  consequence  of  nervous  fits. 

The  General  proceeded.  **  As  to  this  young  man — this 
friend  of  yours — this  Richard  Middlemas— did  you  not  call 
him  so  ? '' 

"  Not  that  I  recollect,"  answered  Hartley;  "  but  your  Excel- 
lency has  hit  upon  his  name." 

*'  That  is  odd  enough.  Certainly  you  said  something 
about  Middlemas  ?"  replied  General  Witherington. 

''  I  mentioned  the  name  of  the  town,"  said  Hartley. 

^'  Ay,  and  1  caught  it  up  as  the  name  of  the  recruit.  I 
was  indeed  occupied  at  the  moment  by  my  anxiety  about  my 
wife.  But  this  Middlemas,  since  such  is  his  name,  is  a  wild 
young  fellow,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  I  should  do  him  wrong  to  say  so,  your  Excellency.  He 
may  have  had  his  follies  like  other  young  men  ;  but  his  con* 
duct  has,  so  far  as  I  know,  been  respectable  ;  but,  consider- 
ing we  lived  in  the  same  house,  we  were  not  very  intimate.'* 

"  That  is  bad  ;  I  should  have  liked  him — that  is — it  would 


80  WAVEBLET  NOVELS 

have  been  happy  for  him  to  have  had  a  friend  like  you. 
But  I  suppose  you  studied  too  hard  for  him.  He  would  be 
a  soldier,  ha  ?    Is  he  good-looking  ?  '* 

^'  Remarkably  so/'  replied  Hartley  ;  "  and  has  a  very  pre- 
possessing manner/' 

''  Is  his  complexion  dark  or  fair  ?  "  asked  the  General. 

''Rather  uncommonly  dark/'  said  Hartley — ''darker,  if  I 
may  use  the  freedom,  than  your  Excellency's." 

"  Nay,  then,  he  must  be  a  black  ouzel  indeed  !  Does  he 
understand  languages  ?  " 

"  Latin  and  French  tolerably  well.'^ 

"  Of  course  he  cannot  fence  or  dance  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  I  am  no  great  judge  ;  but  Richard  is 
reckoned  to  do  both  with  uncommon  skill." 

"  Indeed  I  Sum  this  up,  and  it  sounds  well.  Handsome, 
accomplished  in  exercises,  moderately  learned,  perfectly 
well-bred,  not  unreasonably  wild.  All  this  comes  too  high 
for  the  situation  of  a  private  sentinel.  He  must  have  a 
commission,  doctor — entirely  for  your  sake/' 

"Your  Excellency  is  generous." 

"  It  shall  be  so ;  and  I  will  find  means  to  make  Tom  Hil- 
lary disgorge  his  plunder,  unless  he  prefers  being  hanged, 
a  fate  he  has  long  deserved.  You  cannot  go  back  to  the 
hospital  to-day.  You  dine  with  us,  and  you  know  Mrs. 
Witherington's  fears  of  infection  ;  but  to-morrow  find  out 
your  friend.  Winter  shall  see  him  equipped  with  everything 
needful.  Tom  Hillary  shall  repay  advances,  you  know  ;  and 
he  must  be  off  with  the  first  detachment  of  the  recruits,  in 
the  "  Middlesex"  Indiaman,  which  sails  from  the  Downs  on 
Monday  fortnight ;  that  is,  if  you  think  him  fit  for  the 
voyage.  I  daresay  the  poor  fellow  is  sick  of  the  Isle  of 
Wight." 

"  Your  Excellency  will  permit  the  young  man  to  pay  his 
respects  to  you  before  his  departure  ?  " 

"  To  what  purpose,  sir  ?  "  said  the  General,  hastily  and 
peremptorily  ;  but  instantly  added,  "  You  are  right ;  I  should 
like  to  see  him.  Winter  shall  let  him  know  the  time,  and 
take  horses  to  fetch  him  hither.  But  he  must  have  been  out 
of  the  hospital  for  a  day  or  two  ;  so  the  sooner  you  can  set 
him  at  liberty  the  better.  In  the  mean  time,  take  him  to 
your  own  lodgings,  doctor;  and  do  not  let  him  form  any 
intimacies  with  the  officers,  or  any  others,  in  this  place, 
where  he  may  light  on  another  Hillary." 

Had  Hartley  been  as  well  acquainted  as  the  reader  with 
the  circumstances  of  young  Middlemas's  birth,  he  might 


THE  S URGEON ' 8  BA  UGHTEB  81 

have  drawn  decisive  conclusions  from  the  behavior  of 
General  Witherington  while  his  comrade  was  the  topic  of 
conversation.  But  as  Mr.  Gray  and  Middlemas  himself 
were  both  silent  on  the  subject,  he  knew  little  of  it  but  from 
general  report,  which  his  curiosity  had  never  induced  him 
to  scrutinize  minutely.  Nevertheless,  what  he  did  appre- 
hend interested  him  so  much,  that  he  resolved  upon  trying 
a  little  experiment,  in  which  he  thought  there  could  be  no 
great  harm.  He  placed  on  his  finger  the  remarkable  ring 
entrusted  to  his  care  by  Richard  Middlemas,  and  endeav- 
ored to  make  it  conspicuous  in  approaching  Mrs.  Wither- 
ington, taking  care,  however,  that  this  occurred  during 
her  husband's  absence.  Her  eyes  had  no  sooner  caught 
a  sight  of  the  gem  than  they  became  riveted  to  it,  and 
she  begged  a  nearer  sight  of  it,  as  strongly  resembling 
one  which  she  had  given  to  a  friend.  Taking  the  ring 
from  his  finger,  and  placing  it  in  her  emaciated  hand. 
Hartley  informed  her  it  was  the  property  of  the  friend 
in  whom  he  had  just  been  endeavoring  to  interest  the 
General.  Mrs.  Witherington  retired  in  great  emotion,  but 
next  day  summoned  Hartley  to  a  private  interview,  the  par- 
ticulars of  which,  so  far  as  are  necessary  to  be  known,  shall 
be  afterwards  related. 

On  the  succeeding  day  after  these  important  discoveries, 
Middlemas,  to  his  great  delight,  was  rescued  from  his  se- 
clusion in  the  hospital,  and  transferred  to  his  comrade's 
lodgings  in  the  town  of  Ryde,  of  which  Hartley  himself  was  a 
rare  inmate,  the  anxiety  of  Mrs.  Witherington  detaining  him 
at  the  General's  house  long  after  his  medical  attendance 
might  have  been  dispensed  with. 

Within  two  or  three  days  a  commission  arrived  for  Richard 
Middlemas  as  a  lieutenant  in  the  service  of  the  East  India 
Company.  Winter,  by  his  master's  orders,  put  the  ward- 
robe of  the  young  officer  on  a  suitable  footing ;  while  Mid- 
dlemas, enchanted  at  finding  himself  at  once  emancipated 
from  his  late  dreadful  difficulties  and  placed  under  the  pro- 
tection of  a  man  of  such  importance  as  the  General,  obeyed 
implicitly  the  hints  transmitted  to  him  by  Hartley,  and  en- 
forced by  Winter,  and  abstained  from  going  into  public,  or 
forming  acquaintances  with  any  one.  Even  Hartley  himself 
he  saw  seldom ;  and,  deep  as  were  his  obligations,  he  did 
not  perhaps  greatly  regret  the  absence  of  one  whose  presence 
always  affected  him  with  a  sense  of  humiliation  and  abase^ 
ment. 
6 


CHAPTER  VIII 

The  evening  before  he  was  to  sail  for  the  Downs,  where  the 

"  Middlesex"  lay  ready  to  weigh  anchor,  the  new  lieutenant 
was  summoned  by  Winter  to  attend  him  to  the  General's 
residence,  for  the  purpose  of  being  introduced  to  his  patron, 
to  thank  him  at  once  and  to  bid  him  farewell.  On  the  road 
the  old  man  took  the  liberty  of  schooling  his  companion 
concerning  the  respect  which  he  ought  to  pay  to  his  master, 
'*  who  was,  though  a  kind  and  generous  man  as  ever  came 
from  Northumberland,  extremely  rigid  in  punctiliously  ex- 
acting the  degree  of  honor  which  was  his  due/' 

While  they  were  advancing  towards  the  house,  the  General 
and  his  wife  expected  their  arrival  with  breathless  anxiety. 
They  were  seated  in  a  superb  drawing-room,  the  General  be- 
hind a  large  chandelier,  which,  shaded  opposite  to  his  face, 
threw  all  the  light  to  the  other  side  of  the  table,  so  that  he 
could  observe  any  person  placed  there  without  becoming  the 
subject  of  observation  in  turn.  On  a  heap  of  cushions, 
wrapped  in  a  glittering  drapery  of  gold  and  silver  muslins, 
mingled  with  shawls,  a  luxury  which  was  then  a  novelty  in 
Europe,  sate,  or  rather  reclined,  his  lady,  who,  past  the  full 
meridian  of  beauty,  retained  charms  enough  to  distinguish 
her  as  one  who  had  been  formerly  a  very  fine  woman,  though 
her  mind  seemed  occupied  by  the  deepest  emotion. 

*^  Zilia,"  said  her  husband,  "  you  are  unable  for  what  you 
have  undertaken  ;  take  my  advice — retire  ;  you  shall  know 
all  and  everything  that  passes — but  retire.  To  what  pur- 
pose should  you  cling  to  the  idle  wish  of  beholding  for  a 
moment  a  being  whom  you  can  never  again  look  upon  ?  " 

*'Alas  !*'  answered  the  lady,  "and  is  not  your  declara- 
tion that  I  shall  never  see  him  more  a  sufficient  reason  that 
I  should  wish  to  see  him  now — should  wish  to  imprint  on 
my  memory  the  features  and  the  form  which  I  am  never 
again  to  behold  while  we  are  in  the  body  ?  Do  not,  my 
Richard,  be  more  cruel  than  was  my  poor  father,  even  when 
his  wrath  was  in  its  bitterness.  He  let  me  look  upon  my  in- 
fant, and  its  cherub  face  dwelt  with  me,  and  was  my  com- 
fort, among  the  years  of  unutterable  sorrow  in  which  my 
youth  wore  away." 

Si 


THE  S  URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  88 

*'  It  is  enougli,  Zilia  :  you  have  desired  this  boon  ;  I  have 
granted  it,  and,  at  whatever  risk,  my  promise  shall  be  kept. 
But  think  how  much  depends  on  this  fatal  secret — your  rank 
and  estimation  in  society — my  honor  interested  that  that 
estimation  should  remain  uninjured.  Zilia,  the  moment  that 
the  promulgation  of  such  a  secret  gives  prudes  and  scandal- 
mongers a  right  to  treat  you  with  scorn  will  be  fraught  with 
unutterable  misery,  perhaps  with  bloodshed  and  death,  should 
a  man  dare  to  take  up  the  rumor." 

^'  You  shall  be  obeyed,  my  husband,"  answered  Zilia,  "  in 
all  that  the  frailness  of  nature  will  permit.  But  oh,  God  of 
my  fathers,  of  what  clay  hast  Thou  fashioned  us,  poor  mor- 
tals, who  dread  so  much  the  shame  which  follows  sin,  yet 
repent  so  little  for  the  sin  itself  \"  In  a  minute  afterwards 
steps  were  heard  ;  the  door  opened.  Winter  announced 
Lieutenant  Middlemas,  and  the  unconscious  son  stood  before 
his  parents. 

Witherington  started  involuntarily  up,  but  immediately 
constrained  himself  to  assume  the  easy  deportment  with 
which  a  superior  receives  a  dependant,  and  which,  in  his  own 
case,  was  usually  mingled  with  a  certain  degree  of  hauteur. 
The  mother  had  less  command  of  herself.  She  too  sprung 
up,  as  if  with  the  intention  of  throwing  herself  on  the  neck 
of  her  son,  for  whom  she  had  travailed  and  sorrowed.  But 
the  warning  glance  of  her  husband  arrested  her,  as  if  by 
magic,  and  she  remained  standing,  with  her  beautiful  head 
and  neck  somewhat  advanced,  her  hands  clasped  together, 
and  extended  forward  in  the  attitude  of  motion,  but  motion- 
less, nevertheless,  as  a  marble  statue,  to  which  the  sculptor 
has  given  all  the  appearance  of  life,  but  cannot  impart  its 
powers.  So  strange  a  gesture  and  posture  might  have 
excited  the  young  officer's  surprise  ;  but  the  lady  stood  in 
the  shade,  and  he  was  so  intent  in  looking  upon  his  patron 
that  he  was  scarce  even  conscious  of  Mrs.  Witherington's 
presence. 

"  I  am  happy  in  this  opportunity,"  said  Middlemas,  observ- 
ing that  the  General  did  not  speak,  '*to  return  my  thanks 
to  General  Witherington,  to  whom  they  never  can  be 
sufficiently  paid." 

The  sound  of  his  voice,  though  uttering  words  so  indiffer- 
ent, seemed  to  dissolve  the  charm  which  kept  his  mother 
motionless.  She  sighed  deeply,  relaxed  the  rigidity  qf  her 
posture,  and  sunk  back  on  the  cushions  from  which  she  had 
started  up.  Middlemas  turned  a  look  towards  her  at  the 
Bound  of  the  sigh  and  the  rustling  of  her  drapery. 


84  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

The  General  hastened  to  speak.  "  My  wife,  Mr,  Middle, 
mas,  has  been  unwell  of  late  ;  your  friend,  Mr.  Hartley, 
might  mention  it  to  you — an  affection  of  the  nerves.'' 

Mr.  Middlemas  was,  of  course,  sorry  and  concerned. 

"We  have  had  distress  in  our  family,  Mr.  Middlemas. 
from  the  ultimate  and  heart-breaking  consequences  of  which 
we  have  escaped  by  the  skill  of  your  friend,  Mr.  Hartley. 
We  will  be  happy  if  it  is  in  our  power  to  repay  a  part  of  our 
obligations  in  services  to  his  friend  and  protege,  Mr.  Middle- 
mas.'' 

"  I  am  only  acknowledged  as  Ms  protege,  then,"  thought 
Richard  ;  but  he  said,  "  Every  one  must  envy  his  friend  in 
having  had  the  distinguished  good  fortune  to  be  of  use  to 
General  Witherington  and  his  family.'* 

"  You  have  received  your  commission,  I  presume.  Have 
you  any  particular  wish  or  desire  respecting  your  destina- 
tion?" 

"No,  may  it  please  your  Excellency,"  answered  Middle- 
mas. "I  suppose  Hartley  would  tell  your  Excellency  my 
unhappy  state — that  I  am  an  orphan,  deserted  by  the  parents 
who  cast  me  on  the  wide  world,  an  outcast  about  whom  nobody 
knows  or  cares,  except  to  desire  that  I  should  wander  far 
enough,  and  live  obscurely  enough,  not  to  disgrace  them  by 
their  connection  with  me." 

Zilia  wrung  her  hands  as  he  spoke,  and  drew  her  muslin 
veil  closely  around  her  head,  as  if  to  exclude  the  sounds 
which  excited  her  mental  agony. 

"  Mr.  Hartley  was  not  particularly  communicative  about 
your  affairs,"  said  the  General,  "  nor  do  I  wish  to  give  you 
the  pain  of  entering  into  them.  What  I  desire  to  know  is, 
if  you  are  pleased  with  your  destination  to  Madras  ?" 

*' Perfectly,  please  your  Excellency — anywhere,  so  that 
there  is  no  chance  of  meeting  the  villain  Hillary." 

"  Oh  !  Hillary's  services  are  too  necessary  in  the  purlieus 
of  St.  Giles's,  the  lowlights  of  Newcastle,  and  such -like 
places,  where  human  carrion  can  be  picked  up,  to  be  per- 
mitted to  go  to  India.  However,  to  show  you  the  knave 
has  some  grace,  there  are  the  notes  of  which  you  were  robbed. 
You  will  find  them  the  very  same  paper  which  you  lost, 
except  a  small  sum  which  the  rogue  had  spent,  but  which  a 
friend  has  made  up,  in  compassion  for  yonr  sufferings." 

Ri«hard  Middlemas  sank  on  one  knee,  and  kissed  the  hand 
which  restored  him  to  independence. 

"Pshaw!"  said  the  General,  "you  are  a  silly  young 
man";  but  he  withdrew  not  his  hand  from  his  caresses. 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  85 

This  was  one  of  the  occasions  on  which  Dick  Middlemas 
could  be  oratoricalc 

*'  0,  my  more  than  father,"  he  said,  "  how  much  greater 
a  debt  do  I  owe  to  you  than  to  the  unnatural  parents  who 
brought  me  into  this  world  by  their  sin,  and  deserted  me 
through  their  cruelty  ! " 

Zilia,  as  she  heard  these  cutting  words,  flung  back  her 
veil,  raising  it  on  both  hands  till  it  floated  behind  her  like  a 
mist,  and  then  giving  a  faint  groan,  sunk  down  in  a  swoon. 
Pushing  Middlemas  from  him  with  a  hasty  movement. 
General  Witherington  flew  to  his  ladj^s  assistance,  and  car- 
ried her  in  his  arms,  as  if  she  had  been  a  child,  into  the 
ante-room,  where  an  old  servant  waited  with  the  means  oi: 
restoring  suspended  animation,  which  the  unhappy  hur^band 
too  truly  anticipated  might  be  useful.  These  were  hastily 
employed,  and  succeeded  in  calling  the  sufferer  to  lliG,  but 
in  a  state  of  mental  emotion  that  was  terrible. 

Her  mind  was  obviously  impressed  by  the  last  words  which 
her  son  had  uttered.  **  Did  you  hear  him,  Richard  ? ''  she 
exclaimed,  in  accents  terribly  loud,  considering  the  exhanitec'.. 
state  of  her  strength — "  did  you  hear  the  words  t  It  wcs 
Ileaven  speaking  our  condemnation  by  the  voice  of  our  own 
child.  But  do  not  fear,  my  Richard,  do  not  7/9ep  !  I  will 
answer  the  thunder  of  Heaven  with  its  own  music. ^' 

She  flew  to  a  harpsichord  which  stood  in  the  room,  and, 
while  the  servant  and  master  gazed  on  each  other,  as  if 
doubting  whether  licr  senses  were  about  to  leave  her  entirely, 
she  wandered  over  the  keys,  producing  a  wilderness  of  har- 
mony, composed  of  passages  recalled  by  memory,  or  com- 
bined by  her  own  murjical  talent,  until  r.t  length  her  voice 
and  instrument  united  in  one  of  those  magnificent  hymns  in 
which  her  youth  had  praised  her  Maker,  with  voice  and 
harp,  like  the  royal  Hebrew  who  composed  it.  The  tear 
ebbed  insensibly  from  the  eyes  which  she  turned  upwards  ; 
her  vocal  tones,  combining  with  those  of  the  instrument, 
rose  to  a  pitch  of  brilliancy  seldom  attained  by  the  most 
distinguished  performers,  and  then  sunk  into  a  dying  cadence, 
which  fell,  never  again  to  rise — for  the  songstress  had  died 
with  her  strain. 

The  horror  of  the  distracted  husband  may  be  conceived, 
when  all  efforts  to  restore  life  proved  totally  ineffectual. 
Servants  were  despatched  for  medical  men — Hartley,  and 
every  other  who  could  be  found.  The  General  precipitated 
himself  into  the  apartment  they  had  so  lately  left,  and  in 
his  haste  ran  against  Middlemas,  who,  at  the  sound  of  the 


16  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

music  from  the  adjoining  apartment,  had  naturally  ap- 
proached nearer  to  the  door,  and,  surprised  and  startled  by 
the  sort  of  clamor,  hasty  steps,  and  confused  voices  whicn 
ensued,  had  remained  standing  there,  endeavoring  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  so  much  disorder. 

The  sight  of  the  unfortunate  young  man  wakened  the 
General's  stormy  passions  to  frenzy.  He  seemed  to  recognize 
his  son  only  as  the  cause  of  his  wife's  death.  He  seized  him 
by  the  collar,  and  shook  him  violently  as  he  dragged  him 
into  the  chamber  of  mortality. 

"  Come  hither,''  he  said,  "  thou  for  whom  a  life  of  lowest 
obscurity  was  too  mean  a  fate — come  hither,  and  look  on  the 
parents  whom  thou  hast  so  much  envied — whom  thou  hast 
so  often  cursed.  Look  at  that  pale  emaciated  form,  a  figure 
of  wax,  rather  than  flesh  and  blood  :  that  is  thy  mother — 
that  is  the  unhappy  Zilia  Mon9ada,  to  whom  thy  birth  was 
the  source  of  shame  and  misery,  and  to  whom  thy  ill-omened 
presence  has  now  brought  death  itself.  And  behold  me  " — 
ho  pushed  the  lad  from  him,  and  stood  up  erect,  looking 
wellnigh  in  gesture  and  figure  the  apostate  spirit  he  de- 
scribed--*^ behold  me,"  he  said — "see  you  not  my  haii 
streaming  with  sulphur,  my  brow  scathed  with  lightning  ? 
I  am  the  Arch-Fiend — I  am  the  father  whom  you  seek — I 
am  the  accursed  Kichard  Tresham,  the  seducer  of  Zilia,  and 
the  father  oi  her  murderer  ! " 

Hartley  entered  while  this  horrid  scene  was  passing.  All 
attention  to  the  deceased,  he  instantly  saw,  would  be  thrown 
fiway  ;  and  understanding,  partly  from  Winter,  partly  from 
the  tenor  of  the  General's  frantic  discourse,  the  nature  of 
the  disclosure  which  had  occurred,  he  hastened  to  put  an 
end,  if  possible,  to  the  frightful  and  scandalous  scene  which 
had  taken  place,  aware  how  delicately  the  General  felt  on 
the  subject  of  reputation,  he  assailed  him  with  remonstrances 
on  such  conduct,  in  presence  of  so  many  witnesses.  But 
the  mind  had  ceased  to  answer  to  that  once  powerful  key- 
note. 

'*  I  care  not  if  the  whole  world  hear  my  sin  and  my 
punishment,"  said  Witherington.  "  It  shall  not  be  again 
said  of  me  that  I  fear  shame  more  than  I  repent  sin.  I 
feared  shame  only  for  Zilia,  and  Zilia  is  dead." 

"  But  her  memory,  General — spare  the  memory  of  your 
wife,  in  which  the  character  of  your  children  is  in- 
volved." 

"  I  have  no  children,"  said  the  desperate  and  violent  man. 
*'  My  Reuben  is  gone  to  Heaven,  to  prepare  a  lodging  for 


THE  8 UBGEON  '  S  DA  UGH TER  ^ 

the  angel  who  has  now  escaped  from  earth  in  a  flood  of  har- 
mony, which  can  only  be  equaled  where  she  is  gone.  The 
other  two  cherubs  will  not  survive  their  mother.  I  shall 
be,  nay,  I  already  feel  myself,  a  childless  man/' 

''  Yet  I  am  your  son,''  replied  Middlemas,  in  a  tone  sor- 
rowful, but  at  the  same  time  tinged  with  sullen  resentment 
— "  your  son  by  your  wedded  wife.  Pale  as  she  lies  there, 
I  call  upon  you  both  to  acknowledge  my  rights,  and  all  who 
are  present  to  bear  witness  to  them." 

"  Wretch  ! "  exclaimed  the  maniac  father,  "  canst  thou 
think  of  thine  own  sordid  rights  in  the  midst  of  death  and 
frenzy  ?  My  son  !  Thou  art  the  fiend  who  hast  occasioned 
my  wretchedness  in  this  world,  and  who  will  share  my  eter- 
nal misery  in  the  next.  Hence  from  my  sight,  and  my  curse 
go  with  thee  I" 

His  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  his  arms  folded  on  his 
breast,  the  haughty  and  dogged  spirit  of  Middlemas  yet 
seemed  to  meditate  reply.  But  Hartley,  Winter,  and  other 
bystanders  interfered,  and  forced  him  from  the  apartment. 
As  they  endeavored  to  remonstrate  with  him,  he  twisted 
himself  out  of  their  grasp,  ran  to  the  stables,  and  seizing  the 
first  saddled  horse  that  he  found,  out  of  many  that  had  been 
in  haste  got  ready  to  seek  for  assistance,  he  threw  himself  on 
its  back  and  rode  furiously  off.  Hartley  was  about  to  mount 
and  follow  him  ;  but  Winter  and  the  other  domestics  threw 
themselves  around  him,  and  implored  him  not  to  desert 
their  unfortunate  master  at  a  time  when  the  influence  which 
he  had  acquired  over  him  might  be  the  only  restraint  on  the 
violence  of  his  passions. 

"  He  had  a  coup  de  soleil  in  India,"  whispered  Winter, 
''  and  is  capable  of  anything  in  his  fits.  These  cowards  can- 
not control  him,  and  I  am  old  and  feeble." 

Satisfied  that  General  Withcrington  was  a  greater  object 
of  compassion  than  Middlemas,  whom  besides  he  had  no 
hope  of  overtaking,  and  who  he  believed  was  safe  in  his  own 
keeping,  however  violent  might  be  his  present  emotions. 
Hartley  returned  where  the  greater  emergency  demanded 
his  immediate  care. 

He  foun(J  the  unfortunate  general  contending  with  the 
domestics,  who  endeavored  to  prevent  his  making  his  way 
to  the  apartment  where  his  children  slept,  and  exclaiming 
furiously,  '^Eejoice,  my  treasures — rejoice!  He  has  fled 
who  would  proclaim  your  father's  crime  and  your  mother's 
dishonor  !  He  has  fled,  never  to  return,  whose  life  has  been 
the  death  of  one  parent  and  the  ruin  of  another  I     Courage, 


88  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

my  children,  your  father  is  with  you — he  will  make  his  way 
to  you  through  a  hundred  obstacles  \*' 

The  domestics,  intimidated  and  undecided,  were  giving 
way  to  him,  when  Adam  Hartley  approached,  and,  placing 
himself  before  the  unhappy  man,  fixed  his  eye  firmly  on  the 
General's,  while  he  said  in  a  low  but  stern  voice — *'  Madman, 
would  you  kill  your  children  ?  " 

The  General  seemed  staggered  in  his  resolution,  but  still 
attempted  to  rush  past  him.  But  Hartley,  seizing  him  by 
the  collar  of  his  coat  on  each  side,  "  You  are  my  prisoner,'* 
he  said  ;  ''  I  command  you  to  follow  me." 

*'  Ha  !  prisoner,  and  for  high  treason  ?  Dog,  thou  hast 
met  thy  death!" 

The  distracted  man  drew  a  poniard  from  his  bosom,  and 
Hartley's  strength  and  resolution  would  not  perhaps  have 
saved  his  life,  had  not  Winter  mastered  the  General's  right 
hand,  and  contrived  to  disarm  him. 

'^I  am  your  prisoner,  then,"  he  said  ;  "use  me  civilly — 
and  let  me  see  my  wife  and  children." 

^'  You  shall  see  them  to-morrow,"  said  Hartley  ;  **  follow 
us  instantly,  and  without  the  least  resistance." 

General  Witherington  followed  like  a  child,  with  the  air 
of  one  who  is  suffering  for  a  cause  in  which  he  glories. 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  principles,"  he  said — ^'  I  am 
willing  to  die  for  my  king." 

Without  exciting  his  frenzy,  by  contradicting  the  fantastic 
idea  which  occupied  his  imagination,  Hartley  continued  to 
maintain  over  his  patient  the  ascendency  he  had  acquired. 
He  caused  him  to  be  led  to  his  apartment,  and  beheld  him 
suffer  himself  to  be  put  to  bed.  Administering  then  a 
strong  composing-draught,  and  causing  a  servant  to  sleep  in 
the  room,  he  watched  the  unfortunate  man  till  dawn  of 
morning. 

General  Witherington  awoke  in  his  full  senses,  and  appar- 
ent conscious  of  his  real  situation,  which  he  testified  by  low 
groans,  sobs,  and  tears.  When  Hartley  drew  near  his  bed- 
side he  knew  him  perfectly,  and  said,  **  Do  not  fear  me — the 
fit  is  over  ;  leave  me  now,  and  see  after  yonder  unfortunate. 
Let  him  leave  Britain  as  soon  as  possible,  and  go  where  his 
fate  calls  him,  and  where  we  can  never  meet  more.  Winter 
knows  my  ways,  and  will  take  care  of  me." 

Winter  gave  the  same  advice.  *'  I  can  answer,"  he  said, 
*'  for  my  master's  security  at  present ;  but  in  Heaven's 
name,  prevent  his  ever  meeting  again  with  that  obdurate 
young  man  1 " 


CHAPTER  IX 

Well,  then,  the  world's  mine  oyster. 
Which  I  with  sword  will  open. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

When  Adam  Hartley  arrived  at  his  lodgings  in  the  sweet 
little  town  of  Ryde,  his  first  inquiries  were  after  his  com- 
rade. He  had  arrived  last  night  late,  man  and  horse  all  in 
a  foam.  He  made  no  reply  to  any  questions  about  supper  or 
the  like,  but,  snatching  a  candle,  ran  upstairs  into  his  apart- 
ment, and  shut  and  double-locked  the  door.  The  servants 
only  supposed  that,  being  something  intoxicated,  he  had 
ridden  hard,  and  was  unwilling  to  expose  himself. 

Hartley  went  to  the  door  of  his  chamber,  not  without  some 
apprehensions ;  and  after  knocking  and  calling  more  than 
once,  received  at  length  the  welcome  return,  "  Who  is 
there?'' 

On  Hartley  announcing  himself,  the  door  opened,  and 
Middlemas  appeared,  well  dressed,  and  with  his  hair  ar- 
ranged and  powdered  ;  although,  from  the  appearance  of 
the  bed,  it  had  not  been  slept  in  on  the  preceding  night, 
and  Eichard's  countenance,  haggard  and  ghastly,  seemed  to 
bear  witness  to  the  same  fact.  It  was,  however,  with  an 
affectation  of  indifference  that  he  spoke. 

**I  congratulate  you  on  your  improvement  in  worldly 
knowledge,  Adam.  It  is  just  the  time  to  desert  the  poor 
heir,  and  stick  by  him  that  is  in  immediate  possession  of  the 
wealth.'' 

"  I  stayed  last  night  at  General  Witherington's,"  answered 
Hartley,  ''because  he  is  extremely  ill." 

"  Tell  him  to  repent  of  his  sins,  then,"  said  Richard.  "  Old 
Gray  used  to  say,  a  doctor  had  as  good  a  title  to  give  ghostly 
advice  as  a  parson.  Do  you  remember  Doctor  Dulberry,  the 
minister,  calling  him  an  interloper  .^    Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! '' 

''I  am  surprised  at  this  style  of  language  from  one  in  your 
circumstances." 

''Why,  ay,"  said  Middlemas,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "it 
would  be  difficult  to  most  men  to  keep  up  their  spirits,  after 
gaining  and  losing  father,  mother,  and  a  good  inheritance, 

89 


90  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

all  in  the  same  day.  But  I  had  always  a  torn  for  philoso« 
phy/' 

*'  I  really  do  not  understand  yon,  Mr.  Middlemas/' 

*'Why,  I  found  my  parents  yesterday,  did  I  not  ?"  an- 
swered the  young  man.  "  My  mother,  as  you  know,  had 
waited,  but  that  moment  to  die,  and  my  father  to  become 
distracted  ;  and  I  conclude  both  were  contrived  purposely  to 
cheat  me  of  my  inheritance,  as  he  has  taken  up  such  a  preju- 
dice against  me.'* 

'*  Inheritance  ! "  repeated  Hartley,  bewildered  by  EichardV 
calmness,  and  half  suspecting  that  the  insanity  of  the  father 
was  hereditary  in  the  family.  ''  In  Heaven's  name,  recollect 
yourself,  and  get  rid  of  these  hallucinations.  What  inherit- 
ance are  you  dreaming  of  ?" 

''That  of  my  mother,  to  be  sure,  who  must  have  inherited 
old  Mon^ada's  wealth  ;  and  to  whom  should  it  descend,  save 
to  her  children  ?  I  am  the  eldest  of  them — that  fact  cannot 
be  denied. '' 

"  But  consider,  Richard — recollect  yourself. '' 

''  I  do,"  said  Richard  ;  ''  and  what  then  ?  " 

*'  Then  you  cannot  but  remember, '^  said  Hartley,  ''  that, 
unless  there  was  a  will  in  your  favor,  your  birth  prevents  you 
from  inheriting." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir  :  I  am  legitimate.  Yonder  sickly 
brats  whom  you  rescued  from  the  grave  are  not  more  legiti- 
mate than  I  am.  Yes,  our  parents  could  not  allow  the  air  of 
Heaven  to  breathe  on  them ;  me  they  committed  to  the 
winds  and  the  waves.  7  am  nevertheless  their  lawful  child, 
as  well  as  their  puling  offspring  of  advanced  age  and  decayed 
health.  I  saw  them,  Adam  :  Winter  showed  the  nursery  to 
me  while  they  were  gathering  courage  to  receive  me  in  the 
drawing-room.  There  they  lay,  the  children  of  predilection, 
the  riches  of  the  East  expended  that  they  might  sleep  soft 
and  awake  in  magnificence.  I,  the  eldest  brother — the  heir 
— I  stood  beside  their  bed  in  the  borrowed  dress  which  I  had 
so  lately  exchanged  for  the  rags  of  an  hospital.  Their 
couches  breathed  the  richest  perfumes,  while  1  was  reeking 
from  a  pest-house  ;  and  I — I  repeat  it — the  heir,  the  produce 
of  their  earliest  and  best  love,  was  thus  treated.  No  wonder 
that  my  look  was  that  of  a  basilisk." 

*'  You  speak  as  if  you  were  possessed  with  an  evil  spirit," 
said  Hartley  ;  '*  or  else  you  labor  under  a  strange  delusion." 

*'  You  think  those  only  are  legally  married  over  whom  a 
drowsy  parson  has  read  the  ceremony  from  a  dog's-eared 
prayer-book  ?    It  may  be  so  in  your  English  law ;  but  Scot* 


THE  S URGEON '  S  DA  UOHTEB  91 

land  makes  Love  himself  the  priest.  A  vow  betwixt  a  fond 
couple,  the  blue  heaven  alone  witnessing,  will  protect  a  con- 
fiding girl  against  the  perjury  of  a  fickle  swain,  as  much  as  if 
a  dean  had  performed  the  rites  in  the  loftiest  cathedral  in 
England.  Nay,  more  ;  if  the  child  of  love  be  acknowledged 
by  the  father  at  the  time  when  he  is  baptized,  if  he  present 
the  mother  to  strangers  of  respectability  as  his  wife,  the  laws 
of  Scotland  will  not  allow  him  to  retract  the  justice  which 
has,  in  these  actions,  been  done  to  the  female  whom  he  has 
wronged,  or  the  offspring  of  their  mutual  love.  This  Gen- 
eral Tresham,  or  Witherington,  treated  my  unhappy  mother 
as  his  wife  before  Gray  and  others,  quartered  her  as  such  in 
the  family  of  a  respectable  man,  gave  her  the  same  name  by 
vvhich  he  himself  chose  to  pass  for  the  time.  He  presented 
me  to  the  priest  as  his  lawful  offspring  ;  and  the  law  of  Scot- 
land, benevolent  to  the  helpless  child,  will  not  allow  him 
now  to  disown  what  he  so  formally  admitted.  I  know  my 
rights,  and  am  determined  to  claim  them." 

"  You  do  not  then  intend  to  go  on  board  the  '  Middle- 
sex ? '  Think  a  little.  You  will  lose  your  voyage  and  your 
commission." 

''I  will  save  my  birthright,"  answered  Middlemas. 
"  When  I  thought  of  going  to  India,  I  knew  not  my  parents, 
or  how  to  make  good  the  rights  which  I  had  through  them. 
That  riddle  is  solved.  I  am  entitled  to  at  least  a  third  of 
MonQada's  estate,  which,  by  Winter's  account,  is  considerable. 
But  for  you,  and  your  mode  of  treating  the  small-pox,  I 
should  have  had  the  whole.  Little  did  I  think,  when  old 
Gray  was  likely  to  have  his  wig  pulled  off  for  putting  out 
fires,  throwing  open  windows,  and  exploding  whiskey  and 
water,  that  the  new  system  of  treating  the  small-pox  was  to 
cost  me  so  many  thousand  pounds." 

"  You  are  determined,  then,"  said  Hartley,  ''  on  this  wild 
course  ?  " 

''  I  know  my  rights  and  am  determined  to  make  them  avail- 
able," answered  the  obstinate  youth. 

'*  Mr.  Richard  Middlemas,  I  am  sorry  for  you." 

**  Mr.  Adam  Hartley,  I  beg  to  know  why  I  am  honored  by 
your  sorrow." 

'*  I  pity  you,"  answered  Hartley,  *'  both  for  the  obstinacy 
of  selfishness  which  can  think  of  wealth  after  the  scene  you 
saw  last  night,  and  for  the  idle  vision  which  leads  you  to 
believe  that  you  can  obtain  possession  of  it." 

''  Selfish  ! "  cried  Middlemas  ;  "  why,  I  am  a  dutiful  son, 
laboring  to  clear  the   memory  of  a  calumniated   mother. 


82  WA  VERLET  NOVELS 

And  am  I  a  visionary  ?  Why,  it  was  to  this  hope  nja  i 
awakened  when  old  Mon9ada's  letter  to  Gray,  devoting  me 
to  perpetual  obscurity,  first  roused  me  to  a  sense  of  my 
situation,  and  dispelled  the  dreams  of  my  childhood.  Do 
you  think  that  I  would  ever  have  submitted  to  the  drudgery 
which  I  shared  with  you,  but  that,  by  doing  so,  I  kept  in 
view  the  only  traces  of  these  unnatural  parents,  by  means 
of  which  I  proposed  to  introduce  myself  to  their  notice, 
and,  if  necessary,  enforce  the  rights  of  a  legitimate  child  ? 
The  silence  and  death  of  Mon9ada  broke  my  plans,  and  it 
was  then  only  I  reconciled  myself  to  the  thoughts  of 
India." 

"  You  were  very  young  to  have  known  so  much  of  the 
Scottish  law,  at  the  time  when  we  were  first  acquainted," 
said  Hartley.     *'  But  I  can  guess  your  instructor." 

**  No  less  authority  than  Tom  Hillary^"  replied  Middle- 
mas.  "  His  good  counsel  on  that  head  is  a  reason  why  I  do 
not  now  prosecute  him  to  the  gallows." 

*'  I  judged  as  much,"  replied  Hartley  ;  "for  I  heard  him, 
before  I  left  Middlemas,  debating  the  point  with  Mr.  Law- 
ford  ;  and  I  recollect  perfectly  that  he  stated  the  law  to  be 
such  as  you  now  lay  down." 

'*  And  what  said  Lawford  in  answer  ?"  demanded  Middle- 
mas. 

"  He  admitted,"  replied  Hartley,  *'  that,  in  circumstances 
where  the  case  was  doubtful,  such  presumptions  of  legiti- 
macy might  be  admitted.  But  he  said  they  were  liable  to  be 
controlled  by  positive  and  precise  testimony,  as,  for  instance 
the  evidence  of  the  mother  declaring  the  illegitimacy  of 
the  child." 

"  But  there  can  exist  none  such  in  my  case,"  said  Middle- 
mas hastily,  and  with  marks  of  alarm. 

"  I  will  not  deceive  you,  Mr.  Middlemas,  though  I  fear  I 
cannot  help  giving  you  pain.  I  had  yesterday  a  long  con- 
ference with  your  mother,  Mrs.  Witherington,  in  which 
she  acknowledged  you  as  her  son,  but  a  son  born  before 
marriage.  This  express  declaration  will,  therefore,  put  an 
end  to  the  suppositions  on  which  you  ground  your  hopes. 
If  you  please,  you  may  hear  the  contents  of  her  declaration, 
which  I  have  in  her  own  handwriting." 

"  Confusion  !  is  the  cup  to  be  forever  dashed  from  my 
lips  ?"  muttered  Richard  ;  but  recovering  his  composure  by 
exertion  of  the  self-command  of  which  he  possessed  so  large 
a  portion,  he  desired  Hartley  to  proceed  with  his  commu- 
nication.    Hartley  accordingly  proceeded  to  inform  him  of 


THE  8 URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  98 

the  particulars  preceding  his  birth  and  those  which  followed 
after  it ;  while  Middlemas,  seated  on  a  sea-chest,  listened 
■with  inimitable  composure  to  a  tale  which  went  to  root  up 
the  flourishing  hopes  of  wealth  which  he  had  lately  soiondly 
entertained. 

Zilia  Mon9ada  was  the  only  child  of  a  Portuguese  Jew  of 
great  wealth,  who  had  come  to  London  in  prosecution  of 
his  commerce.  Among  the  few  Christians  who  frequented 
his  house,  and  occasionally  his  table,  was  Eichard  Tresham, 
a  gentleman  of  a  high  Northumbrian  family,  deeply  en- 
gaged in  the  service  of  Charles  Edward  during  his  short 
invasion,  and,  though  holding  a  commission  in  the  Por- 
tugese service,  still  an  object  of  suspicion  to  the  British  gov- 
ernment on  account  of  his  well-known  courage  and  Jacobit- 
ical  principles.  The  high-bred  elegance  of  this  gentleman, 
together  with  his  complete  acquaintance  with  the  Portuguese 
language  and  manners,  had  won  the  intimacy  of  old  Mon- 
9ada,  and,  alas!  the  heart  of  the  inexperienced  Zilia,  who, 
beautiful  as  an  angel,  had  as  little  knowledge  of  the  world 
and  its  wickedness  as  the  lamb  that  is  but  a  week  old. 

Tresham  made  his  proposals  to  Mon^ada,  perhaps  in  a 
manner  which  too  evidently  showed  that  he  conceived  the 
high-born  Christian  was  degrading  himself  in  asking  an 
alliance  with  the  wealthy  Jew.  Mon9ada  rejected  his  pro- 
posals, forbade  him  his  house,  but  could  not  prevent  the 
lovers  from  meeting  in  private.  Tresham  made  a  dis- 
honorable use  of  the  opportunities  which  the  poor  Zilia  so 
incautiously  afforded,  and  the  consequence  was  her  ruin. 
The  lover,  however,  had  every  purpose  of  righting  the 
injury  which  he  had  inflicted,  and,  after  various  plans  of 
secret  marriage,  which  were  rendered  abortive  by  the  dif- 
ference of  religion  and  other  circumstances,  flight  for  Scot- 
land was  determined  on.  The  hurry  of  the  journey,  the  fear 
and  anxiety  to  which  Zilia  was  subject,  brought  on  her  con- 
finement several  weeks  before  the  usual  time,  so  that  they 
were  compelled  to  accept  of  the  assistance  and  accommoda- 
tion offered  by  Mr.  Gray.  They  had  not  been  there  many 
hours  ere  Tresham  heard,  by  the  medium  of  some  sharp- 
sighted  or  keen-eared  friend,  that  there  were  warrants  out 
against  him  for  treasonable  practises.  His  correspondence 
with  Charles  Edward  had  become  known  to  Mon^ada  during 
the  period  of  their  friendship  ;  he  betrayed  it  in  vengeance 
to  the  British  cabinet,  and  warrants  were  issued,  in  which,  at 
Mon9ada's  request,  his  daughtor's  name  was  included.  This 
might  be  of  use,  he  apprehended,  to  enable  him  to  separate 


»4  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

his  daughter  from  Tresham,  should  he  find  the  fugitives 
actually  married.  How  far  he  succeeded  the  reader  already 
knows,  as  well  as  the  precautions  which  he  took  to  prevent 
the  living  evidence  of  his  child^s  frailty  from  being  known 
to  exist.  His  daughter  he  carried  with  him,  and  subjected 
her  to  severe  restraint,  which  her  own  reflections  rendered 
doubly  bitter.  It  would  have  completed  his  revenge  had  the 
author  of  Zilia's  misfortunes  been  brought  to  the  scaffold  for 
his  political  offenses.  But  Tresham  skulked  among  friends 
in  the  Highlands,  and  escaped  until  the  affair  blew  over. 

He  afterwards  entered  into  the  East  India  Company's  ser- 
vice, under  his  mother's  name  of  Witherington,  which  con- 
cealed the  Jacobite  and  rebel  until  these  terms  were  forgot- 
ten. His  skill  in  military  affairs  soon  raised  him  to  riches 
and  eminence.  When  he  returned  to  Britain  his  first  in- 
quiries were  after  the  family  of  Mon9ada.  His  fame,  his 
wealth,  and  the  late  conviction  that  his  daughter  never  would 
marry  any  but  him  who  had  her  first  love  induced  the  old 
man  to  give  that  encouragement  to  General  Witherington 
which  he  had  always  denied  to  the  poor  and  outlawed  Major 
Tresham  ;  and  the  lovers,  after  having  been  fourteen  years 
separated,  were  at  length  united  in  wedlock. 

General  Witherington  eagerly  concurred  in  the  earnest 
wish  of  his  father-in-law,  that  every  remembrance  of  former 
events  should  be  buried,  by  leaving  the  fruit  of  the  early 
and  unhappy  intrigue  suitably  provided  for,  but  in  a  distant 
and  obscure  situation.  Zilia  thought  far  otherwise.  Her 
heart  longed,  with  a  mother's  longing,  towards  the  object  of 
her  first  maternal  tenderness,  but  she  dared  not  place  her- 
Belf  in  opposition  at  once  to  the  will  of  her  father  and  the 
decision  of  her  husband.  The  former,  his  religious  preju- 
dices much  effaced  by  his  long  residence  in  England,  had 
given  consent  that  she  should  conform  to  the  established 
religion  of  her  husband  and  her  country  ;  the  latter,  haughty 
as  we  have  described  him,  made  it  his  pride  to  introduce  the 
beautiful  convert  among  his  high-born  kindred.  The  dis- 
covery of  her  former  frailty  would  have  proved  a  blow  to  her 
respectability  which  he  dreaded  like  death  ;  and  it  could  not 
long  remain  a  secret  from  his  wife  that,  in  consequence  of  a 
severe  illness  in  India,  even  his  reason  became  occasionally 
shaken  by  anything  which  violently  agitated  his  feelings. 
She  had,  therefore,  acquiesced  in  patience  and  silence  in  the 
course  of  policy  which  Mon9ada  had  devised,  and  which  her 
husband  anxiously  and  warmly  approved.  Yet  her  thoughts, 
eyen  when  their  marriage  was  blessed  with  other  offspring. 


THE  S  URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTEB  95 

anxiously  reverted  to  the  banished  and  outcast  child  who 
had  first  been  clasped  to  the  maternal  bosom. 

All  these  feelings,  *'  subdued  and  cherished  long,"  were 
set  afloat  in  full  tide  by  the  unexpected  discovery  of  this  son, 
redeemed  from  a  lo^  of  extreme  misery,  and  placed  before 
his  mother's  imagination  in  circumstances  so  disastrous. 

It  was  in  vain  that  her  husband  had  assured  her  that  he 
would  secure  the  young  man's  prosperity  by  his  purse  and 
his  interest.  She  could  not  be  satisfied  until  she  had  her- 
self done  something  to  alleviate  the  doom  of  banishment  to 
which  her  eldest-born  was  thus  condemned.  She  was  the 
more  eager  to  do  so,  as  she  felt  the  extreme  delicacy  of  her 
health,  which  was  undermined  by  so  many  years  of  secret 
suffering. 

Mrs.  Witherington  was,  in  conferring  her  maternal  bounty, 
naturally  led  to  employ  the  agency  of  Hartley,  the  com- 
panion of  her  son,  and  to  whom,  since  the  recovery  of  her 
younger  children,  she  almost  looked  up  as  to  a  tutelar  deity. 
She  placed  in  his  hand  a  sum  of  £2000,  which  she  had  at  her 
own  unchallenged  disposal,  with  a  request,  uttered  in  the 
fondest  and  most  affectionate  terms,  that  it  might  be  ap- 
plied to  the  service  of  Richard  Middlemas  in  the  way  Hartley 
should  think  most  useful  to  him.  She  assured  him  of  fur- 
ther support  as  it  should  be  needed  ;  and  a  note  to  the  fol- 
lowing purport  was  also  entrusted  to  him,  to  be  delivered 
when  and  where  the  prudence  of  Hartley  should  judge  it 
proper  to  confide  to  him  the  secret  of  his  birth. 

"  Oh,  Benoni !  Oh,  child  of  my  sorrow  !  "  said  this  inter- 
esting document,  '*  why  should  the  eyes  of  thy  unhappy 
mother  be  about  to  obtain  permission  to  look  on  thee,  since 
her  arms  were  denied  the  right  to  fold  thee  to  her  bosom  ? 
May  the  God  of  Jews  and  of  Gentiles  watch  over  thee  and 
guard  thee  !  May  He  remove,  in  His  good  time,  the  dark- 
ness which  rolls  between  me  and  the  beloved  of  my  heart — 
the  first  fruit  of  my  unhappy,  nay,  unhallowed,  affection. 
Do  not — do  not,  my  beloved,  think  thyself  a  lonely  exile, 
while  thy  mother's  prayers  arise  for  thee  at  sunrise  and  at 
sunset,  to  call  down  every  blessing  on  thy  head — to  invoke 
every  power  in  thy  protection  and  defense.  Seek  not  to  see 
me.  Oh,  why  must  I  say  so  ?  But  let  me  humble  myself 
in  the  dust,  since  it  is  my  own  sin,  my  own  folly,  which 
I  must  blame ;  but  seek  not  to  see  or  speak  with  me — it 
might  be  the  death  of  both.  Confide  thy  thoughts  to  the 
excellent  Hartley,  who  hath  been  the  guardian  angel  of  us 


06  WA  VERLEY  NO VEL8 

all,  even  as  the  tribes  of  Israel  had  each  their  gnardian  an- 
gel. What  thou  shalt  wish,  and  he  shall  advise  in  thy  be- 
half, shall  be  done,  if  in  the  power  of  a  mother.  And  th(» 
love  of  a  mother, — is  it  bounded  by  seas,  or  can  deserts  and 
distance  measure  its  limits  ?  Oh,  childiof  my  sorrow  !  Oh^ 
Benoni !  let  thy  spirit  be  with  mine,  as  mine  is  with  thee. 

All  these  arrangements  being  completed,  the  unfortunate 
lady  next  insisted  with  her  husband  that  she  should  be  per- 
mitted to  see  her  son,  in  that  parting  interview  which  ter- 
minated so  fatally.  Hartley,  therefore,  now  discharged  al 
her  executor  the  duty  entrusted  to  him  as  her  confidential 
agent. 

"  Surely,"  he  thought,  as,  having  finished  his  communica- 
tion, he  was  about  to  leave  the  apartment — '*  surely  the  de- 
mons  of  ambition  and  avarice  will  unclose  the  talons  which 
they  have  fixed  upon  this  man,  at  a  charm  like  this.'' 

And  indeed  Richard's  heart  had  been  formed  of  the  nether 
millstone  had  he  not  been  duly  affected  by  these  first  and 
last  tokens  of  his  mother's  affection.  He  leaned  his  head  upon 
a  table,  and  his  tears  flowed  plentifully.  Hartley  left  him 
undisturbed  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  on  his  return  found 
him  in  nearly  the  same  attitude  in  which  he  had  left  him. 

"I  regret  to  disturb  you  at  this  moment,""  he  said,  "  but  I 
still  have  a  part  of  my  duty  to  discharge.  I  must  place  in 
your  possession  the  deposit  which  your  mother  made  in  my 
hands ;  and  I  must  also  remind  you  that  time  flies  fast,  and 
that  you  have  scarce  an  hour  or  two  to  determine  whether 
you  will  prosecute  your  Indian  voyage  under  the  new  view  of 
circumstances  which  I  have  opened  to  you.'' 

Middlemas  took  the  bills  which  his  mother  had  bequeathed 
him.  As  he  raised  his  head.  Hartley  could  observe  that  his 
face  was  stained  with  tears.  Yet  he  counted  over  the  money 
with  mercantile  accuracy  ;  and  though  he  assumed  the  pen 
for  the  purpose  of  writing  a  discharge  with  an  air  of  incon- 
solable dejection,  yet  he  drew  it  up  in  good  set  terms,  like 
one  who  had  his  senses  much  at  his  command. 

**  And  now,"  he  said,  in  a  mournful  voice,  "give  me  my 
mother's  narrative." 

Hartley  almost  started,  and  answered  hastily,  *'  You  have 
the  poor  lady's  letter,  which  was  addressed  to  yourself  ;  the 
narrative  is  addressed  to  me.     It  is  my  warrant  for  disposin 
of  a  large  sum  of  money;  it  concerns  the  rights  of  thir 
parties,  and  I  cannot  part  with  it." 


THE  8  UROEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  VI 

**  Surely — surely  it  were  better  to  deliver  it  into  my  hands, 
were  it  but  to  weep  over  it,"  answered  Middlemas.  "  My 
fortune,  Hartley,  has  been  very  cruel.  You  see  that  my 
parents  proposed  to  have  made  me  their  undoubted  heir ; 
yet  their  purpose  was  disappointed  by  accident.  And  now 
my  mother  comes  with  well-intended  fondness,  and,  while 
she  means  to  advance  my  fortune,  furnishes  evidences  to  de- 
stroy it.  Come — come  Hartley,  you  must  be  conscious  that 
my  mother  wrote  those  details  entirely  for  my  information. 
I  am  the  rightful  owner,  and  insist  on  having  them." 

*'I  am  sorry  I  must  insist  on  refusing  your  demand, 
answered  Hartley,  putting  the  papers  in  his  pocket.  ''  You 
ought  to  consider  that,  if  this  communication  has  destroyed 
the  idle  and  groundless  hopes  which  you  have  indulged  in, 
it  has,  at  the  same  time,  more  than  trebled  your  capital  ; 
and  that  if  there  are  some  hundreds  or  thousands  in  the 
world  richer  than  yourself,  there  are  many  millions  not 
half  so  well  provided.  Set  a  brave  spirit,  then,  against  your 
fortune,  and  do  not  doubt  your  success  in  life." 

His  words  seemed  to  sink  into  the  gloomy  mind  of  Middle- 
mas. He  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  answered 
with  a  reluctant  and  insinuating  voice — 

^'  My  dear  Hartley,  we  have  long  been  companions  ;  you 
can  have  neither  pleasure  nor  interest  in  ruining  my  hopes 
— you  may  find  some  in  forwarding  them.  Moncjada's  for- 
tune will  enable  me  to  allow  five  thousand  pounds  to  the 
friend  who  should  aid  me  in  my  difficulties." 

^'  Good-morning  to  you,  Mr.  Middlemas,"  said  Hartley, 
endeavoring  to  withdraw. 

"  One  moment — one  moment,"  said  Middlemas,  holding 
his  friend  by  the  button  at  the  same  time,  *'  I  meant  to  say 
ten  thousand — and — and — marry  whomsoever  you  like — I 
will  not  be  your  hindrance." 

*'  You  are  a  villain  ! "  said  Hartley,  breaking  from  him, 
''and  I  always  thought  you  so." 

''  And  you,"  answered  Middlemas,  "  are  a  fool,  and  I 
never  thought  you  better.  Off  he  goes.  Let  him — the  game 
has  been  played  and  lost.  I  must  hedge  my  bets  :  India 
must  be  my  back-play." 

All  was  in  readiness  for  his  departure.  A  small  vessel 
and  a  favoring  gale  conveyed  him  and  several  other  military 
gentlemen  to  the  Downs,  where  the  Indiaman  which  was  to 
transport  them  from  Europe  lay  ready  for  their  reception. 

His  first  feelings  were  sufficiently  disconsolate.  But  ac- 
customed from  his  infancy  to  conceal  his  internal  thoughta. 


98  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

he  appeared  in  the  course  of  a  week  the  gayest  and  best-bred 
passenger  who  ever  dared  the  long  and  weary  space  betwixt 
Old  England  and  her  Indian  possessions.  At  Madras,  where 
the  sociable  feelings  of  the  resident  inhabitants  give  ready 
way  to  enthusiasm  in  behalf  of  any  stranger  of  agreeabk 
qualities,  he  experienced  that  warm  hospitality  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  British  character  in  the  East. 

Middlemas  was  well  received  in  company,  and  in  the  way 
of  becoming  an  indispensable  guest  at  every  entertainment 
in  the  place,  when  the  vessel  on  board  of  which  Hartley 
acted  as  surgeon's  mate  arrived  at  the  same  settlement.  The 
latter  would  not,  from  his  situation,  have  been  entitled  to 
expect  much  civility  and  attention  ;  but  this  disavantage 
was  made  up  by  his  possessing  the  most  powerful  intro- 
ductions from  General  Witherington,  and  from  other  per- 
sons of  weight  in  Leadenhall  Street,  the  General's  friends, 
to  the  principal  inhabitants  in  the  settlement.  He  found 
himself  once  more,  therefore,  moving  in  the  same  sphere 
with  Middlemas,  and  under  the  alternative  of  living  with 
him  on  decent  and  distant  terms,  or  of  breaking  off  with 
him  altogether. 

The  first  of  these  courses  might  perhaps  have  been  the 
wisest ;  but  the  other  was  most  congenial  to  the  blunt  and 
plain  character  of  Hartley,  who  saw  neither  propriety  nor 
comfort  in  maintaining  a  show  of  friendly  intercourse,  to 
conceal  hate,  contempt,  and  mutual  dislike. 

The  circle  at  Fort  St.  George  was  much  more  restricted 
at  that  time  than  it  has  been  since.  The  coldness  of  the 
young  men  did  not  escape  notice.  It  transpired  that  they 
nad  been  once  intimates  and  fellow-students  ;  yet  it  was  now 
found  that  they  hesitated  at  accepting  invitations  to  the 
same  parties.  Rumor  assigned  many  different  and  incom- 
patible reasons  for  this  deadly  breach,  to  which  Hartley  gave 
no  attention  whatever,  while  Lieutenant  Middlemas  took 
care  to  countenance  those  which  represented  the  cause  of 
the  quarrel  most  favorably  to  himself. 

"  A  little  bit  of  rivalry  had  taken  place,''  he  said,  when 
pressed  by  gentlemen  for  an  explanation  ;  **  he  had  only  had 
the  good  luck  to  get  further  in  the  good  graces  of  a  fair  lady 
than  his  friend  Hartley,  who  had  made  a  quarrel  of  it,  as 
they  saw.  He  thought  it  very  silly  to  keep  up  spleen,  at 
such  a  distance  of  time  and  space.  He  was  sorry,  more  for 
the  sake  of  the  strangeness  of  the  appearance  of  the  thing 
than  anything  else,  although  his  friend  had  really  some  very 
good  pomts  about  him." 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  99 

While  these  whispers  were  working  their  effect  in  society, 
they  did  not  prevent  Hartley  from  receiving  the  most  flatter- 
ing assurances  of  encouragement  and  official  promotion  from 
the  Madras  government  as  opportunity  should  arise.  Soon 
after,  it  was  intimated  to  him  that  a  medical  appointment 
of  a  lucrative  nature  in  a  remote  settlement  was  conferred 
on  him,  which  removed  him  for  some  time  from  Madras  and 
its  neighborhood. 

Hartley  accordingly  sailed  on  his  distant  expedition  ;  and 
it  was  observed  that  after  his  departure  the  character  of 
Middlemas,  as  if  some  check  had  been  removed,  began  to 
display  itself  in  disagreeable  colors.  It  was  noticed  that  this 
young  man,  whose  manners  were  so  agreeable  and  so  courte- 
ous during  the  first  months  after  his  arrival  in  India,  began 
now  to  show  symptoms  of  a  haughty  and  overbearing  spirit. 
He  had  adopted,  for  reasons  which  the  reader  may  con- 
jecture, but  which  appeared  to  be  mere  whim  at  Fort  St. 
George,  the  name  of  Tresham  in  addition  to  that  by  which 
he  had  hitherto  been  distinguished,  and  in  this  he  persisted 
with  an  obstinacy  which  belonged  more  to  the  pride  than 
the  craft  of  his  character.  The  lieutenant-colonel  of  the 
regiment,  an  old  cross-tempered  martinet,  did  not  choose  to 
indulge  the  captain  (such  was  now  the  rank  of  Middlemas) 
in  this  humor. 

'^He  knew  no  officer,*'  he  said,  ''by  any  name  save  that 
which  he  bore  in  his  commission,*'  and  he  Middlemas'd  the 
captain  on  all  occasions. 

One  fatal  evening,  the  captain  was  so  much  provoked  as 
to  intimate  peremptorily  "that  he  knew  his  own  name 
best."  ^ 

''Why,  Captain  Middlemas,"  replied  the  colonel,  "it  is 
not  every  child  that  knows  its  own  father,  so  how  can  every 
man  be  so  sure  of  his  own  name  ?" 

The  bow  was  drawn  at  a  venture,  but  the  shaft  found  the 
rent  in  the  armor  and  stung  deeply.  In  spite  of  all  the 
interposition  which  could  be  attempted,  Middlemas  insisted 
on  challenging  the  colonel,  who  could  be  persuaded  to  no 
apology, 

"If  Captain  Middlemas,"  he  said,  "thought  the  cap 
fitted,  he  was  welcome  to  wear  it." 

The  result  was  a  meeting,  in  which,  after  the  parties  had 
exchanged  shots,  the  seconds  tendered  their  mediation.  It 
was  rejected  by  Middlemas,  who  at  the  second  fire  had  the 
misfortune  to  kill  his  commanding  officer.  In  consequence, 
he  was  obliged  to  fly  from  the  British  settlement ;  for,  being 


100  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

universally  blamed  for  having  pushed  the  quarrel  to  ex- 
tremity, there  was  little  doubt  that  the  whole  severity  of 
military  discipline  would  be  exercised  upon  the  delinquent. 
Middlemas,  therefore,  vanished  from  Fort  St.  George,  and, 
though  the  affair  had  made  much  noise  at  the  time,  was 
soon  no  longer  talked  of.  It  was  understood,  in  general, 
that  he  had  gone  to  seek  that  fortune  at  the  court  of  some 
native  prince  which  he  could  no  longer  hope  for  in  the 
British  settlements. 


CHAPTER  X 

Three  years  passed  away  after  the  fatal  encounter  men- 
tioned in  the  last  chapter,  and  Doctor  Hartley,  returning 
from  his  appointed  mission,  which  was  only  temporary,  re- 
ceived encouragement  to  settle  in  Madras  in  a  medical 
capacity  ;  and,  upon  having  done  so,  soon  had  reason  to 
think  he  had  chosen  a  line  in  which  he  might  rise  to  wealth 
and  reputation.  His  practise  was  not  confined  to  his  coun- 
trymen, but  much  sought  after  among  the  natives,  who, 
whatever  may  be  their  prejudices  against  the  Europeans  in 
other  respects,  universally  esteem  their  superior  powers  in 
the  medical  profession.  This  lucrative  branch  of  practise 
rendered  it  necessary  that  Hartley  should  make  the  Oriental 
languages  his  study,  in  order  to  hold  communication  with 
his  patients  without  the  intervention  of  an  interpreter.  He 
had  enough  of  opportunities  to  practise  as  a  linguist,  for,  in 
acknowledgment,  as  he  used  jocularly  to  say,  of  the  large 
fees  of  the  wealthy  Moslemah  and  Hindoos,  he  attended  the 
poor  of  all  nations  gratis,  whenever  he  was  called  upon. 

It  so  chanced,  that  one  evening  he  was  hastily  summoned, 
by  a  message  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Government,  to  at- 
tend a  patient  of  consequence.  •'  Yet  he  is,  after  all,  only 
a  fakir,''  said  the  message.  "  You  will  find  him  at  the  tomb 
of  Cara  Razi,  the  Mohammedan  saint  and  doctor,  about  one 
coss  from  the  fort.  Inquire  for  him  by  name  of  Barak  el 
Hadgi.  Such  a  patient  promises  no  fees  ;  but  we  know 
how  little  you  care  about  the  pagodas,  and,  besides,  the 
Government  is  your  paymaster  on  this  occasion.'* 

**  That  is  the  last  matter  to  be  thought  on,"  said  Hartley, 
and  instantly  repaired  in  his  palanquin  to  the  place  pointed 
out  to  him. 

The  tomb  of  the  owUah,  or  Mohammedan  saint,  Cara  Razi, 
was  a  place  held  in  much  reverence  by  every  good  Mussul- 
man. It  was  situated  in  the  center  of  a  grove  of  mangos 
and  tamarind  trees,  and  was  built  of  red  stone,  having  three 
domes,  and  minarets  at  every  corner.  There  was  a  court  in 
front,  as  usual,  around  which  were  cells  constructed  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  fakirs  who  visited  the  tomb  from  mo- 
tives of  devotion,  and  made  a  longer  or  shorter  residence 

101 


102  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

there  as  they  thought  proper,  subsisting  upon  the  alms 
which  the  faithful  never  fail  to  bestow  on  them  in  exchange 
for  the  benefit  of  their  prayers.  These  devotees  were  en- 
gaged day  and  night  in  reading  verses  of  the  Koran  before 
the  tomb,  which  was  constructed  of  white  marble,  inscribed 
with  sentences  from  the  book  of  the  Prophet,  and  with  the 
various  titles  conferred  by  the  Koran  upon  the  Supreme 
Being.  Such  a  sepulcher,  of  which  there  are  many,  is,  with 
its  appendages  and  attendants,  respected  during  wars  and 
revolutions,  and  no  less  by  Feringis  (Franks,  that  is)  and 
Hindoos  than  by  Mohammedans  themselves.  The  fakirs,  in 
return,  act  as  spies  for  all  parties,  and  are  often  employed 
in  secret  missions  of  importance. 

Complying  with  the  Mohammedan  custom,  our  friend 
Hartley  laid  aside  his  shoes  at  the  gates  of  the  holy  precincts, 
and  avoiding  to  give  offense  by  approaching  near  to  the 
tomb,  he  went  up  to  the  principal  moullah,  or  priest,  who 
was  distinguishable  by  the  length  of  his  beard  and  the  size 
of  the  large  wooden  beads,  with  which  the  Mohammedans, 
like  the  Catholics,  keep  register  of  their  prayers.  Such  a 
person,  venerable  by  his  age,  sanctity  of  character,  and  his 
real  or  supposed  contempt  of  worldly  pursuits  and  enjoy- 
ments, is  regarded  as  the  head  of  an  establishment  of  this 
kind. 

The  moullah  is  permitted  by  his  situation  to  be  more  com- 
municative with  str.  vUgers  than  his  younger  brethren,  who 
in  the  present  instance  remained  with  their  eyes  fixed  on 
the  Koran,  muttering  their  recitations  without  noticing  the 
European,  or  attending  to  what  he  said,  as  he  inquired  at 
their  superior  for  Barak  el  Hadgi. 

The  moullah  was  seated  on  the  earth,  from  which  he  did 
not  arise,  or  show  any  mark  of  reverence  ;  nor  did  he  inter- 
rupt the  tale  of  the  beads,  which  he  continued  to  count 
assiduously  while  Hartley  was  speaking.  When  he  finished, 
the  old  man  raised  his  eyes,  and  looking  at  him  with  an  air 
of  distraction,  as  if  he  was  endeavoring  to  recollect  what  he 
had  been  saying,  he  at  length  pointed  to  one  of  the  cells, 
and  resumed  his  devotions  like  one  who  felt  impatient  of 
whatever  withdrew  his  attention  from  his  sacred  duties, 
were  it  but  for  an  instant. 

Hartley  entered  the  cell  indicated,  with  the  usual  saluta- 
tion of  **  Salam  alaikum."  His  patient  lav  on  a  little  carpet 
in  a  corner  of  the  small  whitewashed  cell.  He  was  a  man 
of  about  forty,  dressed  in  the  black  robe  6i  his  order,  very 
much  torn  and  patched.     He  wore  a  high,  conical  cap  of 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  103 

Tartarian  felt,  and  had  round  his  neck  the  string  of  black 
beads  belonging  to  his  order.  His  eyes  and  posture  in- 
dicated suffering,  which  he  was  enduring  with  stoical  pa- 
tience. 

"  Salam  alaihum,"  said  Hartley  ;  '*  you  are  in  pain,  my 
father  ?  '^  a  title  which  he  gave  rather  to  the  profession  than 
to  the  years  of  the  person  he  addressed. 

*'  Salam  alaikum  hema  sahartem,"  answered  the  fakir. 
**  Well  is  it  for  you  that  you  have  suffered  patiently. 
The  Book  saith,  such  shall  be  the  greeting  of  the  angels 
to  those  who  enter  paradise." 

The  conversation  being  thus  opened,  the  physician  pro- 
ceeded to  inquire  into  the  complaints  of  the  patient,  and 
to  prescribe  what  he  thought  advisable.  Having  done 
this,  he  was  about  to  retire,  when,  to  his  great  surprise, 
the  fakir  tendered  him  a  ring  of  some  value. 

**The  wise,"  said  Hartley,  declining  the  present,  and 
at  the  same  time  paying  a  suitable  compliment  to  the 
fakir's  cap  and  robe — '*  the  wise  of  every  country  are 
brethren.     My  left  hand  takes  no   guerdon  of  my  right." 

**  A  Feringi  can  then  refuse  gold  !"  said  the  fakir,  "I 
thought  they  took  it  from  every  hand,  whether  pure  as 
that  of  an  houri  or  leprous  like  Gehazi's,  even  as  the  hungry 
dog  recketh  not  whether  the  flesh  he  eateth  be  of  the  camel 
of  the  prophet  Saleth  or  of  the  ass  of  Degial,  on  whose 
head  be  curses  !" 

"The  Book  says,"  replied  Hartley,  *'that  it  is  Allah 
who  closes  and  who  enlarges  the  heart.  Frank  and  Mus- 
sulman are  all  alike  molded  by  His  pleasure." 

"  My  brother  hath  spoken  wisel}^'  answered  the  patient. 
*'  Welcome  the  disease,  if  it  bring  thee  acquainted  with 
a  wise  physician.  For  what  saith  the  poet — *  It  is  well  to 
have  fallen  to  the  earth,  if  while  groveling  there  thou  shalt 
discover  a  diamond '  ?  " 

The  physician  made  repeated  visits  to  his  patient,  and 
continued  to  do  so  even  after  the  health  of  El  Hadgi  was 
entirely  restored.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  discerniug  in  him 
one  of  those  secret  agents  frequently  employed  by  Asiatic 
sovereigns.  His  intelligence,  his  learning,  above  all,  his 
versatility  and  freedom  from  prejudices  of  every  kind,  left 
no  doubt  of  Barak's  possessing  the  necessary  qualifications 
for  conducting  such  delicate  negotiations  ;  while  his  gravity 
of  habit  and  profession  could  not  prevent  his  features  from 
expressing  occasionally  a  perception  of  humor,  not  usually 
»een  in  devotees  of  his  class. 


104  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Barak  el  Hadgi  talked  often,  amidst  their  private  conver- 
sations, of  the  power  and  dignity  of  the  Nawaub  of  Mysore  ; 
and  Hartley  had  little  doubt  that  he  came  from  the  court  of 
Hyder  Ali  on  some  secret  mission,  perhaps  for  achieving  a 
more  solid  peace  betwixt  that  able  and  sagacious  prince  and 
the  East  India  Company's  Government,  that  which  existed 
for  the  time  being  regarded  on  both  parts  as  little  more  than 
a  hollow  and  insincere  truce.  He  told  many  stories  to  the 
advantage  of  this  prince,  who  certainly  was  one  of  the  wisest 
that  Hindostan  could  boast,  and  amidst  great  crimes,  perpe- 
trated to  gratify  his  ambition,  displayed  many  instances  of 
princely  generosity,  and,  what  was  a  little  more  surprising, 
of  even-handed  justice. 

On  one  occasion,  shortly  before  Barak  el  Hadgi  left  Ma- 
dras, he  visited  the  doctor,  and  partook  of  his  sherbet,  which 
he  preferred  to  his  own,  perhaps  because  a  few  glasses  of  rum 
or  brandy  were  usually  added  to  enrich  the  compound.  It 
might  be  owing  to  repeated  applications  to  the  jar  which 
contained  this  generous  fluid,  that  the  pilgrim  became  more 
than  usually  frank  in  his  communications,  and,  not  contented 
with  praising  his  Nawaub  with  the  most  hyperbolic  eloquence, 
he  began  to  insinuate  the  influence  which  he  himself  enjoyed 
with  the  Invincible,  the  Lord  and  Shield  of  the  Faith  of  the 
Prophet. 

'*  Brother  of  my  soul,'*  he  said,  "  do  but  think  if  thou 
needest  aught  that  the  all-powerful  Hyder  Ali  Khan  Ba- 
huder  can  give  ;  and  then  use  not  the  intercession  of  those 
who  dwell  in  palaces,  and  wear  jewels  in  their  turbans,  but 
seek  the  cell  of  thy  brother  at  the  great  city,  which  is  Ser- 
ingapatam.  And  the  poor  fakir,  in  his  torn  cloak,  shall 
better  advance  thy  suit  with  the  NawauV — for  Hyder  did  not 
assume  the  title  of  Sultaun — "  than  they  who  sit  upon  seats 
of  honor  in  the  divan." 

With  these  and  sundry  other  expressions  of  regard,  he 
exhorted  Hartley  to  come  into  the  Mysore,  and  look  upon 
the  face  of  the  great  prince,  whose  glance  inspired  wisdom 
and  whose  nod  conferred  wealth,  so  that  folly  or  poverty 
could  not  appear  before  him.  He  offered  at  the  same  time 
to  requite  the  kindness  which  Hartley  had  evinced  to  him, 
by  showing  him  whatever  was  worthy  the  attention  of  a  sage 
in  the  land  of  Mysore. 

Hartley  was  not  reluctant  to  promise  to  undertake  the 
proposed  journey,  if  the  continuance  of  good  understanding 
betwixt  their  governments  should  render  it  practicable,  and 
in  reality  looked  forward  to  the  possibility  of  such  an  event 


THE  S  UR  GEON  '  -S  BA  UGH  TER  105 

with  a  good  deal  of  interest.  The  friends  parted  with 
mutual  good  wishes,  after  exchanging,  in  the  Oriental  fash- 
ion, such  gifts  as  became  sages,  to  whom  knowledge  was  to  be 
supposed  dearer  than  wealth.  Barak  el  Hadgi  presented 
Hartley  with  a  small  quantity  of  the  balsam  of  Mecca,  very 
hard  to  be  procured  in  an  unadulterated  form,  and  gave  him 
at  the  same  time  a  passport  in  a  peculiar  character,  which 
he  assured  him  would  be  respected  by  every  officer  of  the 
Nawaub,  should  his  friend  be  disposed  to  accomplish  his  visit 
to  the  Mysore.  '*  The  head  of  him  who  should  disrespect 
this  safe-conduct,**  he  said,  *' shall  not  be  more  safe  than 
that  of  the  barley-stalk  which  the  reaper  has  grasped  in  his 

Hartley  requited  these  civilities  by  the  present  of  a  few 
medicines  little  used  in  the  East,  but  such  as  he  thought 
might,  with  suitable  directions,  be  safely  entrusted  to  a  man 
so  intelligent  as  his  Moslem  friend. 

It  was  several  months  after  Barak  had  returned  to  the  in- 
terior of  India  that  Hartley  was  astonished  by  an  unexpected 
rencounter. 

The  ships  from  Europe  had  but  lately  arrived,  and  had 
brought  over  their  usual  cargo  of  boys  longing  to  be  com- 
manders, and  young  women  without  any  purpose  of  being 
married,  but  whom  a  pious  duty  to  some  brother,  some  uncle, 
or  other  male  relative,  brought  to  India  to  keep  his  house, 
until  they  should  find  themselves  unexpectedly  in  one  of 
their  own.  Doctor  Hartley  happened  to  attend  a  public 
breakfast  given  on  this  occasion  by  a  gentleman  high  in  the 
service.  The  roof  of  his  friend  had  been  recently  enriched 
by  a  consignment  of  three  nieces,  whom  the  old  gentleman, 
justly  attached  to  his  quiet  hookah,  and,  it  was  said,  to  a 
pretty  girl  of  color,  desired  to  offer  to  the  public,  that  he 
might  have  the  fairest  chance  to  get  rid  of  his  new  guests  as 
soon  as  possible.  Hartley,  who  was  thought  a  fish  worthy 
casting  a  fly  for,  was  contemplating  this  fair  investment 
with  very  little  interest,  when  he  heard  one  of  the  company 
say  to  another  in  a  low  voice — 

"  Angels  and  ministers  I  there  is  our  old  acquaintance,  the 
Queen  of  Sheba,  returned  upon  our  hands  like  unsalable 
goods.'* 

Hartley  looked  in  the  same  direction  with  the  two  who 
were  speaking,  and  his  eye  was  caught  by  a  Semiramis-look- 
ing  person,  of  unusual  stature  and  amplitude,  arrayed  in  a 
sort  of  riding-habit,  but  so  formed  and  so  looped  and  gallooned 
with  lace,  as  made  it  resemble  the  upper  tunic  of  a  native 


D06  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

chief.  Her  robe  was  composed  of  crimson  silk,  ricTi  with 
flowers  of  gold.  She  wore  wide  trousers  of  light  blue  silk, 
a  fine  scarlet  shawl  around  her  waist,  in  which  was  stuck  a 
creeze,  with  a  richly  ornamented  handle.  Her  throat  and 
arms  were  loaded  with  chains  and  bracelets,  and  her  turban, 
formed  of  a  shawl  similar  to  that  worn  around  her  waist,  was 
decorated  by  a  magnificent  aigrette,  from  which  a  blue 
ostrich  plume  flowed  in  one  direction  and  a  red  one  in 
another.  The  brow,  of  European  complexion,  on  which 
this  tiara  rested,  was  too  lofty  for  beauty,  but  seemed  made 
for  command  ;  the  aquiline  nose  retained  its  form,  but  the 
cheeks  were  a  little  sunken,  and  the  complexion  so  very 
brilliant  as  to  give  strong  evidence  that  the  whole  coun- 
tenance had  undergone  a  through  repair  since  the  lady  had 
left  her  couch.  A  black  female  slave,  richly  dressed,  stood 
behind  her  with  a  chowry,  or  cow's  tail,  having  a  silver 
handle,  which  she  used  to  keep  off  the  flies.  From  the 
mode  in  which  she  was  addressed  by  those  who  spoke  to  her, 
this  lady  appeared  a  person  of  too  much  importance  to  ba 
affronted  or  neglected,  and  yet  one  with  whom  none  de- 
sired further  communication  than  the  occasion  seemed  in 
propriety  to  demand. 

She  did  not,  however,  stand  in  need  of  attention.  The 
well-known  captain  of  an  East  Indian  vessel  lately  arrived 
from  Britain  was  sedulously  polite  to  her ;  and  two  or  three 
gentlemen,  whom  Hartley  knew  to  be  engaged  in  trade, 
tended  upon  her  as  they  would  have  done  upon  the  safety 
of  a  rich  argosy. 

''For  Heaven's  sake,  what  is  that  for  a  Zenobia  ?"  said 
Hartley  to  the  gentleman  whose  whisper  had  first  attracted 
his  attention  to  this  lofty  dame. 

''Is  it  possible  you  do  not  know  the  Queen  of  Sheba  ?" 
said  the  person  of  whom  he  inquired,  no  way  loth  to  com- 
municate the  information  demanded.  "  You  must  know, 
then,  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  a  Scotch  emigrant,  who 
lived  and  died  at  Pondicherry,  a  sergeant  in  Lally's  regi- 
ment. She  managed  to  marry  a  partisan  officer  named 
Montreville,  a  Swiss  or  Frenchman,  I  cannot  tell  which. 
After  the  surrender  of  Pondicherry,  this  hero  and  heroine 

But  hey — what  the  devil  are  you  thinking  of  ?    If 

you  stare  at  her  that  way  you  will  make  a  scene  ;  for  she 
will  think  nothing  of  scolding  you  across  the  table." 

But,  without  attending  to  his  friend's  remonstrances. 
Hartley  bolted  from  the  table  at  which  he  sat,  and  made  his 
way,  with  something  less  than  the  decorum  which  the  rules 


THE  S URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTEB  1<» 

of  society  enjoin,  towards  the  place  where  the  lady  in  ques- 
tion was  seated. 

*^* The  doctor  is  surely  mad  this  morning ''said  his 

friend  Major  Mercer  to  old  Quartermaster  Calder. 

Indeed,  Hartley  Tas  not  perhaps  strictly  in  his  senses ; 
for,  looking  at  the  Queen  of  Sheba  as  he  listened  to  Major 
Mercer,  his  eye  fell  on  a  light  female  form  beside  her,  so 
placed  as  if  she  desired  to  be  eclipsed  by  the  bulky  form  and 
flowing  robes  we  have  described,  and  to  his  extreme  aston- 
ishment he  recognized  the  friend  of  his  childhood,  the  love 
of  his  youth — Menie  Gray  herself  ! 

To  see  her  in  India  was  in  itself  astonishing.     To  see  her 
apparently  under  such  strange  patronage  greatly  increased 
his   surprise.      To   make   his  way  to   her   and   address  her 
seemed  the  natural  and  direct  mode  of  satisfying  the  feel- 
ings which  her  appearance  excited. 

His  impetuosity  was,  however,  checked  when,  advancing 
close  upon  Miss  Gray  and  her  companion,  he  observed  that 
the  former,  though  she  looked  at  him,  exhibited  not  the 
slightest  token  of  recognition,  unless  he  could  interpret  as 
such  that  she  slightly  touched  her  upper  lip  with  her  fore- 
finger, which,  if  it  happened  otherwise  than  by  mere  acci- 
dent, might  be  construed  to  mean,  *'  Do  not  speak  to  me  just 
now.'' 

Hartley,  adopting  such  an  interpretation,  stood  stock  still, 
blushing  deeply  ;  for  he  was  aware  that  he  made  for  the 
moment  but  a  silly  figure.  He  was  the  rather  convinced  of 
this  when,  with  a  voice  which  in  the  force  of  its  accents 
corresponded  with  her  commanding  air,  Mrs.  Montreville 
addressed  him  in  English,  which  savored  slightly  of  a  Swiss 
patois — '^  You  have  come  to  us  very  fast,  sir,  to  say  noth- 
ing at  all.  Are  you  sure  you  did  not  get  your  tongue  stolen 
by  de  way  ? " 

*'  I  thought  I  had  seen  an  old  friend  in  that  lady,  madam," 
stammered  Hartley,  ''but  it  seems  I  am  mistaken." 

*'  The  good  people  do  tell  me  that  you  are  one  Doctors 
Hartley,  sir.  Now,  my  friend  and  I  do  not  know  Doctors 
Hartley  at  all." 

'^  I  have  not  the  presumption  to  pretend  to  your  acquaint- 
ance, madam,  but  him " 

Here  Menie  repeated  the  sign  in  such  a  manner  that, 
though  it  was  only  momentary.  Hartley  could  not  misunder- 
stand its  purpose  ;  he  therefore  changed  the  end  of  his  sen- 
tence, and  added,  ''  But  I  have  only  to  make  my  bow,  and 
ask  pardon  for  my  mistake." 


106  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

He  retired  back  accordingly  among  the  company,  unable 
to  quit  the  room,  and  inquiring  at  those  whom   he   con- 
sidered as  the  best  newsmongers  for  such  information  as— 
"  Who  is  that  stately-looking  woman,  Mr.  Butler  ?" 
**  Oh,  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  to  be  surel" 
*'  And  who  is  that  pretty  girl  who  sits  beside  her  ?  " 
**  Or   rather   behind   her/'   answered   Butler,  a   military 
chaplain.     **  Faith,  I  cannot  say.     Pretty  did  you  call  her  ?  " 
turning  his  opera-glass  that  way.     *'  Yes,  faith,  she  is  pretty 
— very  pretty.     Gad,  she  shoots  her  glances  as  smartly  from 
behind  the   old  pile  yonder  as   Teucer  from   behind  Ajax 
Telamon's  shield." 

*'  But  who  is  she,  can  you  tell  me  ?  " 
"  Some  fair-skinned   speculation  of   old  Montreville's,  I 
suppose,  that  she  has  got  either  to  toady  herself  or  take  in 
some  of  her  black  friends  with.     Is   it  possible   you   have 
never  heard  of  old  Mother  Montreville  ?" 

"  You  know  I  have  been  so  long  absent  from  Madras " 

**  Well,''  continued  Butler,  *'  this  lady  is  the  widow  of  a 
Swiss  officer  in  the  French  service,  who,  after  the  surrender 
of  Pondicherry,  went  off  into  the  interior,  and  commenced 
soldier  on  his  own  account.  He  got  possession  of  a  fort, 
under  pretense  of  keeping  it  for  some  simple  rajah  or  other  ; 
assembled  around  him  a  parcel  of  desperate  vagabonds,  of 
every  color  in  the  rainbow  ;  occupied  a  considerable  territory, 
of  which  he  raised  the  duties  in  his  own  name,  and  declared 
for  independence.  But  Hyder  Naig  understood  no  such  in- 
terloping proceedings,  and  down  he  came,  besieged  the  fort 
and  took  it,  though  some  pretend  it  was  betrayed  to  him  by 
this  very  woman.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  poor  Swiss  was 
found  dead  on  the  ramparts.  Certain  it  is,  she  received 
large  sums  of  money,  under  pretense  of  paying  off  her  troops, 
surrendering  of  hill-forts,  and  Heaven  knows  what  besides. 
She  was  permitted  also  to  retain  some  insignia  of  royalty ; 
and,  as  she  was  wont  to  talk  of  Hyder  as  the  Eastern  Solo- 
mon, she  generally  became  known  by  the  title  of  Queen  of 
Sheba.  She  leaves  her  court  when  she  pleases,  and  has  been 
as  far  as  Fort  St.  George  before  now.  In  a  word,  she  does 
pretty  much  as  she  likes.  The  great  folks  here  are  civil  to 
ner,  though  they  look  on  her  as  little  better  than  a  spy. 
As  to  Hyder,  it  is  supposed  he  has  ensured  her  fidelity  by 
borrowing  the  greater  part  of  her  treasures,  which  prevents 
her  from  daring  to  break  with  him — besides  other  causes 
that  smack  of  scandal  of  another  sort." 
**A  singular  story/'  replied  Hartley  to  his  companion, 


THE  S  URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  109 

while  his  heart  dwelt  on  the  question,  How  it  was  possible 
that  the  gentle  and  simple  Menie  Gray  should  be  in  the 
train  of  such  a  character  as  this  adventuress  ? 

"  But  Butler  has  not  told  you  the  best  of  it/'  said  Major 
Mercer,  who  by  thisttime  came  round  to  finish  his  own  story. 
*'  Your  old  acquaintance,  Mr.  Tresham,  or  Mr.  Middlemas, 
or  whatever  else  he  chooses  to  be  called,  has  been  com- 
plimented by  a  report  that  he  stood  very  high  in  the  good 
graces  of  this  same  Boadicea.  He  certainly  commanded 
some  troops  which  she  still  keeps  on  foot,  and  acted  at  their 
head  in  the  NawauVs  service,  who  craftily  employed  him  in 
whatever  could  render  him  odious  to  his  countrymen.  The 
British  prisoners  were  entrusted  to  his  charge,  and,  to  judge 
by  what  I  felt  myself,  the  devil  might  take  a  lesson  from 
him  in  severity." 

*'  And  was  he  attached  to,  or  connected  with,  this 
woman  ?  *' 

*'  So  Mrs.  Rumor  told  us  in  our  dungeon.  Poor  Jack 
Ward  had  the  bastinado  for  celebrating  their  merits  in  a 
parody  on  the  playhouse  song. 

Sure  such  a  pair  were  never  seen. 
So  aptly  formed  to  meet  by  nature." 

Hartley  could  listen  no  longer.  The  fate  of  Menie  Gray, 
connected  with  such  a  man  and  such  a  woman,  rushed  on 
his  fancy  in  the  most  horrid  colors,  and  he  was  struggling 
through  the  throng  to  get  to  some  place  where  he  might 
collect  his  ideas,  and  consider  what  could  be  done  for  her 
protection,  when  a  black  attendant  touched  his  arm,  and  at 
the  same  time  slipped  a  card  into  his  hand.  It  bore, ''  Miss 
Gray,  Mrs.  Montreville's,  at  the  house  of  Ram  Sing  Cottah, 
in  the  Black  Town."  On  the  reverse  was  written  with  a 
pencil,  ^'  Eight  in  the  morning." 

This  intimation  of  her  residence  implied,  of  course,  a  per- 
mission, nay,  an  invitation,  to  wait  upon  her  at  the  hour 
specified.  Hartley's  heart  beat  at  the  idea  of  seeing  her 
once  more,  and  still  more  highly  at  the  thought  of  being 
able  to  serve  her.  ''At  least,"  he  thought,  ''if  there  is 
danger  near  her,  as  is  much  to  be  suspected,  she  shall  not 
want  a  counselor,  or,  if  necessary,  a  protector."  Yet,  at 
the  same  time,  he  felt  the  necessity  of  making  himself  better 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  of  her  case,  and  the 
persons  with  whom  she  seemed  connected.  Butler  and 
Mercer  had  both  spoke  to  their  disparagement ;  but  Butler 


no  WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 

was  af  little  of  a  coxcomb,  and  Mercer  a  great  deal  of  a  gossip. 
While  he  was  considering  what  credit  was  due  to  their  testi- 
mony, he  was  unexpectedly  encountered  by  a  gentleman  of 
his  own  profession,  a  military  surgeon,  who  had  had  the 
misfortune  to  have  been  in  Hyder's  prise'  i,  till  set  at  freedom 
by  the  late  pacification.  Mr.  Esdale,  for  so  he  was  called, 
was  generally  esteemed  a  rising  man,  calm,  steady,  and 
deliberate  in  forming  his  opinions.  Hartley  found  it  easy 
to  turn  the  subject  on  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  by  asking 
whether  her  Majesty  was  not  somewhat  of  an  adventuress. 

"  On  my  word,  I  cannot  say,''  answered  Esdale,  smiling  ; 
**  we  are  all  upon  the  adventure  in  India,  more  or  leas  ;  but 
I  do  not  see  that  the  Begum  Montreville  is  more  so  than  the 
rest.'' 

"  Why,  that  amazonian  dress  and  manner/'  said  Hartley, 
**  savor  a  little  of  the  picaresca." 

"  You  must  not,"  said  Esdale,  '^  expect  a  woman  who  has 
commanded  soldiers,  and  may  again,  to  dress  and  look  en- 
tirely like  an  ordinary  person  ;  but  I  assure  you  that,  even 
at  this  time  of  day,  if  she  wished  to  marry,  she  might  easily 
find  a  respectable  match." 

"  Why,  I  heard  that  she  had  betrayed  her  husband's  fort 
to  Hyder." 

"Ay,  that  is  a  specimen  of  Madras  gossip.  The  fact  is, 
that  she  defended  the  place  long  after  her  husband  fell,  and 
afterwards  surrendered  it  by  capitulation.  Hyder,  who 
piques  himself  on  observing  the  rules  of  justice,  would  not 
otherwise  have  admitted  her  to  such  intimacy." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard,"  replied  Hartley,  *'  that  their  intimacy 
was  rather  of  the  closest." 

"  Another  calumny,  if  you  mean  any  scandal,"  answered 
Esdale.  **  Hyder  is  too  zealous  a  Mohammedan  to  entertain 
a  Christian  mistress  ;  and  besides,  to  enjoy  the  sort  of  rank 
which  is  yielded  to  a  woman  in  her  condition,  she  must  re- 
frain, in  appearance  at  least,  from  all  correspondence  in  th« 
way  of  gallantry.  Just  so  they  said  that  the  poor  woman  had 
a  connection  with  poor  Middleman  of  the regiment." 

'*  And  was  that  also  a  false  report  ? "  said  Hartley,  in 
breathless  anxiety. 

**  On  my  soul,  I  believe  it  was,"  answered  Mr.  Esdale. 
''They  were  friends,  Europeans  in  an  Indian  court,  and 
therefore  intimate  ;  but  I  believe  nothing  more.  By  the  by, 
though,  I  believe  there  was  some  quarrel  between  Middlemas, 

Eoor  fellow,  and  you  ;  yet  I  am  sure  that  you  will  be  glad  to 
ear  there  is  a  chance  of  his  aifair  being  made  up  ?  " 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  111 

^'  Indeed  ! "  was  again  the  only  word  which  Hartley  could 
utter. 

''Ay,  indeed/' answered  Esdale.  "The  dnel  is  an  old 
story  now ;  and  it  must  be  allowed  that  poor  Middlemas, 
though  he  was  rash  in  that  business,  had  provocation/' 

''  But  his  desertion,  his  accepting  of  command  under 
Hyder,  his  treatment  of  our  prisoners — how  can  all  these  be 
passed  over  ?  "  replied  Hartley. 

''  Why,  it  is  possible — I  speak  to  you  as  a  cautious  man, 
and  in  confidence — that  he  may  do  us  better  service  in 
Hyder's  capital,  or  Tippoo's  camp,  than  he  could  have  done 
if  serving  with  his  own  regiment.  And  then,  for  his  treat- 
ment of  prisoners,  I  am  sure  I  can  speak  nothing  but  good 
of  him  in  that  particular.  He  was  obliged  to  take  the  office, 
because  those  that  serve  Hyder  Naig  must  do  or  die.  But 
he  told  me  himself — and  I  believe  him — that  he  accepted 
the  office  chiefly  because,  while  he  made  a  great  bullying  at 
us  before  the  black  fellows,  he  could  privately  be  of  assist- 
ance to  us.  Some  fools  could  not  understand  this,  and  an- 
swered him  with  abuse  and  lampoons  ;  and  he  was  obliged  to 
to  punish  them,  to  avoid  suspicion.  Yes — yes,  I  and  others 
can  prove  he  was  willing  to  be  kind,  if  men  would  give  him 
leave.  I  hope  to  thank  him  at  Madras  one  day  soon.  All 
this  in  confidence.     Good-morrow  to  you.'' 

Distracted  by  the  contradictory  intelligence  he  had  re- 
ceived. Hartley  went  next  to  question  old  Captain  Capstern, 
the  captain  of  the  Indiaman,  whom  he  had  observed  in  at- 
tendance upon  the  Begum  Montreville.  On  inquiring  after 
that  commander's  female  passengers,  he  heard  a  pretty  long 
catalogue  of  names,  in  which  that  he  was  so  much  interested 
in  did  not  occur.  On  closer  inquiry,  Capstern  recollected 
that  Menie  Gray,  a  young  Scotchwoman,  had  come  out  under 
charge  of  Mrs.  Duffer,  the  master's  wife.  ''  A  good,  decent 
girl,"  Capstern  said,  "  and  kept  the  mates  and  guinea-pigs 
nt  a  respectable  distance.  She  came  out,"  he  believed,  ''  to 
be  a  sort  of  female  companion,  or  upper  servant,  in  Madam 
Montreville's  family.  Snug  berth  enough,"  he  concluded, 
"  if  she  can  find  the  length  of  the  old  girl's  foot." 

This  was  all  that  could  be  made  of  Capstern  ;  so  Hartley 
was  compelled  to  remain  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  until  the 
next  morning,  when  an  explanation  might  be  expected  with 
Menie  Gray  in  persoiu 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  exact  hour  assigned  found  Hartley  at  the  door  of  the 
rich  native  merchant,  who,  having  some  reasons  for  wishing 
to  oblige  the  Begum  Montreville,  hud  relinquished,  for  her 
accommodation  and  that  of  her  numerous  retinue,  almost 
the  whole  of  his  large  and  sumptuous  residence  in  the  Black 
Town  of  Madras,  as  that  district  of  the  city  is  called  which 
the  natives  occupy. 

A  domestic,  at  the  first  summons,  ushered  the  visitor  into 
an  apartment,  where  he  expected  to  be  joined  by  Miss  Gray. 

The  room  opened  on  one  side  into  a  small  garden  or  par- 
terre, filled  with  the  brilliant-colored  flowers  of  Eastern 
climates,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  waters  of  a  fountain  rose 
upwards  in  a  sparkling  jet,  and  fell  back  again  into  a  white 
marble  cistern. 

A  thousand  dizzy  recollections  thronged  on  the  mind  of 
Hartley,  whose  early  feelings  towards  the  companion  of  his 
youth,  if  they  had  slumbered  during  distance  and  the  various 
casualties  of  a  busy  life,  were  revived  when  he  found  him- 
self placed  so  near  her,  and  in  circumstances  which  interested 
from  their  unexpected  occurrence  and  mysterious  character. 
A  step  was  heard,  the  door  opened,  a  female  appeared  ;  but 
it  was  the  portly  form  of  Madame  de  Montreville. 

*'  What  do  you  please  to  want,  sir  ?  '*  said  the  lady  ;  "  that 
is,  if  you  have  found  your  tongue  this  morning,  which  you 
had  lost  yesterday.'' 

"  I  proposed  myself  the  honor  of  waiting  upon  the  young 
person  whom  I  saw  in  your  Excellency's  company  yesterday 
morning,"  answered  Hartley,  with  assumed  respect.  "  I 
have  had  long  the  honor  of  being  known  to  her  in  Europe, 
and  I  desire  to  offer  my  services  to  her  in  India." 

*'  Much  obliged — much  obliged  ;  but  Miss  Gray  is  gone  out, 
and  does  not  return  for  one  or  two  days.  You  may  leave 
your  commands  with  me." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,"  replied  Hartley  ;  "  but  I  have 
some  reason  to  hope  you  may  be  mistaken  in  this  matter. 
And  here  comes  the  lady  herself." 

"  How  is  this,  my  dear  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Montreville,  with  unr 

112 


THE  S UBGEON '  S  DA  UGRTEB  IIS 

ruffled  front,  to  Menie,  as  she  entered  ;  are  you  not  gone  out 
for  two  or  three  days,  as  I  tell  this  gentleman  ?  Mais  c'est 
egal :  it  is  all  one  thing.  You  will  say  *  How  d'ye  do,^  and 
*  Good-bye/  to  monsieur,  who  is  so  polite  as  to  come  to  ask 
after  our  healths,  and  as  he  sees  us  both  very  well,  he  will 
go  away  home  again/' 

*'  I  believe  madam,"  said  Miss  Gray,  with  appearance  of 
effort,  *^that  I  must  speak  with  this  gentleman  for  a  few 
minutes  in  private,  if  you  will  permit  us." 

*'  That  is  to  say,  get  you  gone  ?  But  I  do  not  allow  that : 
I  do  not  like  private  conversation  between  young  men  and 
pretty  young  women  ;  cela  n' est  pas  honnete.  It  cannot  be 
in  my  house." 

"  it  may  be  out  of  it,  then,  madam,"  answered  Miss  Gray, 
not  pettishly  nor  pertly,  but  with  the  utmost  simplicity. 
**  Mr.  Hartley,  will  you  step  into  that  garden  ?  And  you, 
madam,  may  observe  us  from  the  window,  if  it  be  the  fashion 
of  the  country  to  watch  so  closely." 

As  she  spoke  this,  she  stepped  through  a  lattice-door  into 
the  garden,  and  with  an  air  so  simple  that  she  seemed  as  if 
she  wished  to  comply  with  her  patroness's  ideas  of  decorum, 
though  they  appeared  strange  to  her.  The  Queen  of  Sheba, 
notwithstanding  her  natural  assurance,  was  disconcerted  by 
the  composure  of  Miss  Gray's  manner,  and  left  the  room,  ap- 
parently in  displeasure.  Menie  turned  back  to  the  door 
which  opened  into  the  garden,  and  said,  in  the  same  manner 
as  before,  but  with  less  nonchalance — 

''  I  am  sure  I  would  not  willingly  break  through  the  rules 
of  a  foreign  country  ;  but  I  cannot  refuse  myself  the  pleas- 
ure of  speaking  to  so  old  a  friend,  if,  indeed,"  she  added, 
pausing  to  look  at  Hartley,  who  was  much  embarrassed,  "  it 
be  as  much  pleasure  to  Mr.  Hartley  as  it  is  to  me." 

"  It  would  have  been,"  said  Hartley,  scarce  knowing  what 
he  said — ''  It  must  be  a  pleasure  to  me  in  every  circumstance. 
But  this  extraordinary  meeting — but  your  father " 

Menie  Gray's  handkerchief  was  at  her  eyes.  "  He  is  gone, 
Mr.  Hartley.  After  he  was  left  unassisted,  his  toilsome 
business  became  too  much  for  him  ;  he  caught  a  cold,  which 
hung  about  him,  as  you  know  he  was  the  last  to  attend  to 
his  own  complaints,  till  it  assumed  a  dangerous,  and  finally, 
a  fatal  character.  I  distress  you,  Mr.  Hartley,  but  it  be- 
comes you  well  to  be  affected.     My  father  loved  you  dearly." 

'^Oh,  Miss  Gray!"  said  Hartley,  '^it  should  not  have 
been  thus  with  my  excellent  friend  at  the  close  of  his  useful 
and  virtuous  life,   Alas,  wherefore — the  question  bursts  from 


114  WA  VERLEY  NOVELS 

me  involuntarily — wherefore  could  you  not  have  complied 
with  his  wishes  ?     Wherefore " 

"  Do  not  ask  me/'  said  she,  stopping  the  question  which 
was  on  his  lips  ;  *'  we  are  not  the  formers  of  our  own  destiny. 
It  is  painful  to  talk  on  such  a  subject  ;  but  for  once,  and 
forever,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  should  have  done  Mr.  Hartley 
wrong  if,  even  to  secure  his  assistance  to  my  father,  I  had 
accepted  his  hand,  while  my  wayward  affections  did  not 
accompany  the  act/' 

**  But  wherefore  do  I  see  you  here,  Menie  ?    Forgive  me. 
Miss  Gray,  my  tongue  as  well  as  my  heart  turns  back  t'" 
long-forgotten    scenes.     But   why  here  ?    Why   with   thi 
woman  ?  " 

^'  She  is  not,  indeed,  everything  that  I  expected,"  answered 
Menie  ;  "  but  I  must  not  be  prejudiced  by  foreign  man- 
ners, after  the  step  I  have  taken.  She  is,  besides,  attentive, 
and  generous  in  her  way,  and  I  shall  soon" — she  paused  a 
moment,  and  then  added,  *''  be  under  better  protection.-" 

''That  of  Richard  Middlemas  ?''  said  Hartley,  with 
faltering  voice. 

''  I  ought  not,  perhaps,  to  answer  the  question,''  said 
Menie  ;  *'  but  I  am  a  bad  dissembler,  and  those  whom  I  trust, 
I  trust  entirely.  You  have  guessed  right,  Mr.  Hartley," 
she  added,  coloring  a  good  deal,  *'  I  have  come  hither  to 
unite  my  fate  to  that  of  your  old  comrade." 

'*  It  is,  then,  just  as  I  feared  !  "  exclaimed  Hartley. 

''And  why  should  Mr.  Hartley  fear  ?"  said  Menie  Gray. 
"  I  used  to  think  you  too  generous  ;  surely  the  quarrel 
which  occurred  long  since  ought  not  to  perpetuate  suspicion 
and  resentment." 

"  At  least,  if  the  feeling  of  resentment  remained  in  my 
own  bosom,  it  would  be  the  last  I  should  intrude  upon  you, 
Miss  Gray,"  answered  Hartley.  "  But  it  is  for  you  and  foi 
you  alone,  that  I  am  watchful.  This  person — this  gentleman 
whom  you  mean  to  entrust  with  your  happiness — do  you 
know  where  he  is,  and  in  what  service  ?  " 

"  I  know  both,  more  distinctly  perhaps  than  Mr.  Hartley 
can  do.  Mr.  Middlemas  has  erred  greatly,  and  has  been 
severely  punished.  But  it  was  not  in  the  time  of  his  exile 
and  sorrow  that  she  who  has  plighted  her  faith  to  him  should, 
with  the  flattering  world,  turn  her  back  upon  him.  Besides, 
you  have,  doubtless,  not  heard  of  his  hopes  of  being  restored 
to  his  country  and  his  rank  ?  " 

"I  have,"  answered  Hartley,  thrown  off  his  guard  ;  "but 
I  see  not  how  he  can  deserve  it,  otherwise  than  by  becoming 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  115 

a  traitor  to  his  new  master,  and  thus  rendering  himself  even 
more  unworthy  of  confidence  than  I  hold  him  to  be  at  this 
moment/' 

"  It  is  well  that  he  hears  yon  not,''  answered  Menie  Gray, 
resenting,  with  natural  feeling,  the  imputation  on  her  lover. 
Then  instantly  softening  her  tone,  she  added,  ''  My  voice 
ought  not  to  aggravate,  but  to  soothe,  your  quarrel.  Mr. 
Hartley,  I  plight  my  word  to  you  that  you  do  Richard 
wrong." 

She  said  these  words  with  affecting  calmness,  suppressing 
all  appearance  of  that  displeasure  of  which  she  was  evidently 
sensible,  upon  this  depreciation  of  a  beloved  object. 

Hartley  compelled  himself  to  answer  in  the  same  strain. 

"  Miss  Gray,"  he  said,  '*  your  actions  and  motives  will 
always  be  those  of  an  angel  ;  but  let  me  entreat  you  to  view 
this  most  important  matter  with  the  eyes  of  worldly  wisdom 
and  prudence.  Have  you  well  weighed  the  risks  attending 
the  course  which  you  are  taking  in  favor  of  a  man,  who — 
nay,  I  will  not  again  offend  you — who  may,  I  hope,  deserve 
your  favor  ?  " 

'^  When  I  wished  to  see  you  in  this  manner,  Mr.  Hartley, 
and  declined  a  communication  in  public,  where  we  could 
have  had  less  freedom  of  conversation,  it  was  with  the  view 
of  telling  you  everything.  Some  pain  I  thought  old  recol- 
lections might  give,  but  I  trusted  it  would  be  momentary  ; 
and,  as  I  desire  to  retain  your  friendship,  it  is  proper  I 
should  show  that  I  still  deserve  it.  I  must  then  first  tell 
you  my  situation  after  my  father's  death.  In  the  world's 
opinion,  we  were  always  poor,  you  know  ;  but  in  the  proper 
sense  I  had  not  known  what  real  poverty  was  until  I  was 
placed  in  dependence  upon  a  distant  relation  of  my  poor 
father,  who  made  our  relationship  a  reason  for  casting  upon 
me  all  the  drudgery  of  her  household,  while  she  would  not 
allow  that  it  gave  me  a  claim  to  countenance,  kindness,  or 
anything  but  the  relief  of  my  most  pressing  wants.  In  these 
circumstances  I  received  from  Mr.  Middlemas  a  letter,  in 
which  he  related  his  fatal  duel  and  its  consequence.  He 
had  not  dared  to  write  to  me  to  share  his  misery.  Now, 
when  he  was  in  a  lucrative  situation,  under  the  patronage 
of  a  powerful  prince,  whose  wisdom  knew  how  to  prize  and 
protect  such  Europeans  as  entered  his  service — now,  when 
he  had  every  prospect  of  rendering  our  government  such 
essential  service  by  his  interest  with  Hyder  Ali,  and  might 
eventually  nourish  hopes  of  being  permitted  to  return  and 
stand  his  trial  for  the  death  of  his  commanding  officer— 


116  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

now,  he  pressed  me  to  come  to  India,  and  share  his  reviving 
fortunes,  by  accomplishing  the  engagement  into  which  we 
had  long  ago  entered.  A  considerable  sum  of  money  accom- 
panied this  letter.  Mrs.  Duffer  was  pointed  out  as  a 
respectable  woman,  who  would  protect  me  during  the  pas- 
sage. Mrs.  Montreville,  a  lady  of  rank,  having  large  posses- 
sions and  high  interest  in  the  Mysore,  would  receive  me  on 
my  arrival  at  Fort  St.  George,  and  conduct  me  safely  to  the 
dominions  of  Hyder.  It  was  further  recommended  that, 
considering  the  peculiar  situation  of  Mr.  Middlemas,  his 
name  should  be  concealed  in  the  transaction,  and  that  the 
ostensible  cause  of  my  voyage  should  be  to  fill  an  office  in 
that  lady's  family.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  My  duty  to  my 
poor  father  was  ended,  and  my  other  friends  considered  the 
proposal  as  too  advantageous  to  be  rejected.  The  references 
given,  the  sum  of  money  lodged,  were  considered  as  putting 
all  scruples  out  of  the  question,  and  my  immediate  pro- 
tectress and  kinswoman  was  so  earnest  that  I  should  accept 
of  the  offer  made  me,  as  to  intimate  that  she  would  not 
encourage  me  to  stand  in  my  own  light  by  continuing  to  give 
me  shelter  and  food — she  gave  me  little  more — if  I  was 
foolish  enough  to  refuse  compliance.*' 

"  Sordid  wretch,'*  said  Hartley,  "  how  little  did  she  de- 
serve such  a  charge  !  '* 

*'  Let  me  speak  a  proud  word,  Mr.  Hartley,  and  then  you 
will  not  perhaps  blame  my  relations  so  much.  All  their 
persuasions,  and  even  their  threats,  would  haye  failed  in 
inducing  me  to  take  a  step  which  has  an  appearance,  at 
least,  to  which  I  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile  myself.  But 
I  had  loved  Middlemas — I  love  him  still,  why  should  I  deny 
it  ? — and  I  have  not  hesitated  to  trust  him.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  small  still  voice  which  reminded  me  of  my  en- 
gagements, I  had  maintained  more  stubbornly  the  pride  of 
womanhood,  and,  as  you  would  perhaps  have  recommended, 
I  might  have  expected,  at  least,  that  my  lover  should  have 
come  to  Britain  in  person,  and  might  have  had  the  vanity 
to  think,"  she  added,  smiling  faintly,  **  that,  if  I  were  worth 
having,  I  was  worth  fetching.*' 

*'Yet  now — even  now,**  answered  Hartley,  "be  just  to 
yourself  while  you  are  generous  to  your  lover.  Nay,  do  not 
look  angrily,  but  hear  me.  I  doubt  the  propriety  of  your 
being  under  the  charge  of  this  unsexed  woman,  who  can  no 
longer  be  termed  a  European.  I  have  interest  enough  with 
females  of  the  highest  rank  in  the  settlement — this  climate 
is  that  of  generosity  and  hospitality — there  is  not  one  of 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  117 

them  who,  knowing  your  character  and  history,  will  not  de« 
sire  to  have  you  in  her  society,  and  under  her  protection, 
until  your  lover  shall  be  able  to  vindicate  his  title  to  your  hand 
in  the  face  of  the  world.  I  myself  will  be  no  cause  of  sus- 
picion to  him,  or  of  inconvenience  to  you ,  Menie.  Let  me  but 
have  your  consent  to  the  arrangement  I  propose,  and  the 
same  moment  that  sees  you  under  honorable  and  unsus- 
pected protection,  I  will  leave  Madras,  not  to  return  till  your 
destiny  is  in  one  way  or  other  permanently  fixed/' 

"  No,  Hartley,''  said  Miss  Gray.  *'  It  may — it  must  be, 
friendly  in  you  thus  to  advise  me ;  but  it  would  be  most 
base  in  me  to  advance  my  own  affairs  at  the  expense  of  your 
prospects.  Besides,  what  would  this  be  but  taking  the 
chance  of  contingencies,  with  the  view  of  sharing  poor  Mid- 
dlemas's  fortunes  should  they  prove  prosperous,  and  casting 
him  off  should  they  be  otherwise  ?  Tell  me  only,  do  you, 
of  your  own  positive  knowledge,  aver  that  you  consider 
this  woman  as  an  unworthy  and  unfit  protectress  for  so 
young  a  person  as  I  am  ?" 

*'  Of  my  own  knowledge  I  can  say  nothing — nay,  I  must 
own  that  reports  differ  jven  concerning  Mrs.  Montreville's 
character.     But  surely  the  mer^  suspicion " 

*'The  mere  suspicion,  Mr.  Hartley,  can  have  no  weight 
with  me,  considering  that  I  can  oppose  to  it  the  testimony 
of  the  man  with  whom  I  am  willing  to  share  my  future  for- 
tunes. You  acknowledge  the  question  is  but  doubtful,  and 
should  not  the  assertion  of  him  of  whom  I  think  so  highly 
decide  my  belief  in  a  doubtful  matter  ?  What,  indeed, 
must  he  be,  should  this  Madame  Montreville  be  other  than 
he  represented  her  ?  *' 

"  What  must  he  be,  indeed  \"  thought  Hartley  internally, 
but  his  lips  uttered  not  the  words.  He  looked  down  in  a 
deep  reverie,  and  at  length  started  from  it  at  the  words  of 
Miss  Gray. 

'^  It  is  time  to  remind  you,  Mr.  Hartley,  that  we  must 
needs  part.     God  bless  and  preserve  you." 

*'  And  you,  dearest  Menie,"  exclaimed  Hartley,  as  he  sunk 
on  one  knee,  and  pressed  to  his  lips  the  hand  which  she  held 
out  to  him,  *'  God  bless  you  ! — you  must  deserve  blessing. 
God  protect  you  ! — you  must  need  protection.  Oh,  should 
things  prove  different  from  what  you  hope,  send  for  me  in- 
stantly, and  if  man  can  aid  you,  Adam  Hartley  will." 

He  placed  in  her  hand  a  card  containing  his  address.  He 
then  rushed  from  the  apartment  [garden].  In  the  hall  he 
met  the  lady  of  the  mansion,  who  made  him  a  haughty  rev- 


118  WA  VERLET  NOVELS 

erence  in  token  of  adieu,  while  a  native  servant  of  the  upper 
class,  by  whom  she  was  attended,  made  a  low  and  reveren- 
tial salam. 

Hartley  hastened  from  the  Black  Town,  more  satisfied 
than  before  that  some  deceit  was  about  to  be  practised  to- 
wards Menie  Gray,  more  determined  than  ever  to  exert  him- 
self for  her  preservation  ;  yet  more  completely  perplexed, 
when  he  began  to  consider  the  doubtful  character  of  the 
danger  to  which  she  might  be  exposed,  and  the  scanty  means 
of  protection  which  he  had  to  oppose  to  it. 


CHAPTER  Xn 

As  Hartley  left  the  apartment  [garden]  in  the  house  of  Ram 
Sing  Cottah  by  one  mode  of  exit,  Miss  Gray  retired  by  an- 
other to  an  apartment  destined  for  her  private  use.  She, 
too,  had  reason  for  secret  and  anxious  reflection,  since  all 
her  love  for  Middlemas,  and  her  full  confidence  in  his  honor, 
could  not  entirely  conquer  her  doubts  concerning  the  char- 
acter of  the  person  whom  he  had  chosen  for  her  temporary 
protectoress.  And  yet  she  could  not  rest  these  doubts  upon 
anything  distinctly  conclusive  :  it  was  rather  a  dislike  of  her 
patroness's  general  manners,  and  a  disgust  at  her  masculine 
notions  and  expressions,  that  displeased  her  than  anything 
else. 

Meantime,  Madame  Montreville,  followed  by  her  black 
domestic,  entered  the  apartment  where  Hartley  and  Menie 
had  just  parted.  It  appeared  from  the  conversation  which 
follows  that  they  had  from  some  place  of  concealment  over- 
heard the  dialogue  we  have  narrated  in  the  former  chap- 
ter. 

"  It  is  good  luck,  Sadoc,*'  said  the  lady,  "  that  there  is  in 
this  world  the  great  fool." 

'*  And  the  great  villain,"  answered  Sadoc,  in  good  Eng- 
lish, but  in  a  most  sullen  tone. 

"  This  woman,  now,*'  continued  the  lady,  "  is  what  in 
Frangistan  you  call  an  angel.'' 

*'  Ay,  and  I  have  seen  those  in  Hindostan  you  may  well 
call  devil." 

**  I  am  sure  that  this — how  you  call  him — Hartley,  is  a 
meddling  devil.  For  what  has  he  to  do  ?  She  will  not 
have  any  of  him.  What  is  his  business  who  has  her  ?  I 
wish  we  were  well  up  the  Ghauts  again,  my  dear  Sadoc." 

"  For  my  part,"  answered  the  slave,  "  I  am  half  deter- 
mined never  to  ascend  the  Ghauts  more.  Hark  you,  Adela, 
I  begin  to  sicken  of  the  plan  we  have  laid.  This  creature's 
confiding  purity — call  her  angel  or  woman,  as  you  will — 
makes  my  practises  appear  too  vile,  even  in  my  own  eyes.  I 
feel  myself  unfit  to  be  your  companion  farther  in  the  daring 
paths  which  you  pursue.     Let  us  part,  and  part  friends." 

119 


120  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VELS 

"  Amen,  coward.  But  the  woman  remains  with  me/*  an- 
swered the  Queen  of  Sheba.* 

"With  thee  !  "  replied  the  seeming  black — ''never.  No, 
Adela.  She  is  under  the  shadow  of  the  British  flag,  and 
she  shall  experience  its  protection." 

"  Yes,  and  what  protection  will  it  afford  to  you  yourself?  " 
retorted  the  amazon.  '*  What  if  I  should  clap  my  hands,  and 
command  a  score  of  my  black  servants  to  bind  you  like  a 
sheep,  and  then  send  word  to  the  Governor  of  the  Presidency 
that  one  Richard  Middlemas,  who  had  been  guilty  of  mutiny 
murder,  desertion,  and  serving  of  the  enemy  against  his 
countrymen,  is  here,  at  Ram  Sing  Cottah^s  house,  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  black  servant  ?  "  Middlemas  covered  his  face  with 
his  hands,  while  Madame  Montreville  proceeded  to  load  him 
with  reproaches.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "  slave,  and  son  of  a 
slave  !  Since  you  wear  the  dress  of  my  household,  you  shall 
obey  me  as  fully  as  the  rest  of  them,  otherwise — whips,  fet- 
ters— the  scaffold,  renegade — the  p-allows,  murderer  f  Dost 
thou  dare  to  reflect  on  the  aDyss  oi  misery  from  which  I 
raised  thee,  to  share  my  wealth  and  my  affections  ?  Dost 
thou  not  remember  that  the  picture  of  this  pale,  cold,  unim- 
passioned  girl  was  then  so  indifferent  to  thee  that  thou  didst 
sacrifice  it  as  a  tribute  due  to  the  benevolence  of  her  who 
believed  thee,  to  the  affection  of  her  who,  wretch  as  thou 
art,  condescended  to  love  thee  ?  " 

**  Yes,  fell  woman,"  answered  Middlemas,  ''but  was  it  I 
who  encouraged  the  young  tyrant's  outrageous  passion  for  a 
portrait,  or  who  formed  the  abominable  plan  of  placing  the 
original  within  his  power  ?  " 

"  No  ;  for  to  do  so  required  brain  and  wit.  But  it  was 
thine,  flimsy  villain,  to  execute  the  device  which  a  bolder 
genius  planned :  it  was  thine  to  entice  the  woman  to  this 
foreign  shore,  under  pretense  of  a  love  which,  on  thy  part, 
cold-blooded  miscreant,  never  had  existed." 

"  Peace,  screech-owl !  "  answered  Middlemas,  "  nor  drive 
me  to  such  madness  as  may  lead  me  to  forget  thou  art  a 
woman." 

"  A  woman,  dastard  !  Is  this  thy  pretext  for  sparing  me  ? 
What,  then,  art  thou,  who  tremblest  at  a  woman's  looks,  a 
woman's  words  ?  I  am  a  woman,  renegade,  but  one  who 
wears  a  dagger,  and  despises  alike  thy  strength  and  thy  cour- 
age.    I  am  a  woman  who  has  looked  on  more  dying  men 

*  In  order  to  maintain  uninjured  the  tone  of  passion  throughout 
this  dialogue,  it  has  been  judged  expedient  to  discard,  in  the  lan« 
guage  of  the  Begum,  the  patois  of  Madame  Montreville. 


THE  SURGEON  *S  DA  UGBTEB  121 

than  thou  hast  killed  deer  and  antelopes.  Thou  must  traffic 
for  greatness  ?  Thou  hast  thrust  thyself  like  a  five-years* 
child  into  the  rough  sports  of  men,  and  wilt  only  be  borne 
down  and  crushed  for  thy  pains.  Thou  wilt  be  a  double  traitor, 
forsooth  :  betray  thy  betrothed  to  the  prince,  in  order  to 
obtain  the  means  of  betraying  the  prince  to  the  English,  and 
thus  gam  thy  pardon  from  thy  countrymen.  But  me  thou 
shalt  not  betray.  I  will  not  be  made  the  tool  of  thy  ambi- 
tion. I  will  not  give  thee  the  aid  of  my  treasures  and  my 
soldiers,  to  be  sacrificed  at  last  to  this  Northern  icicle.  No, 
I  will  watch  thee  as  the  fiend  watches  the  wizard.  Show 
but  a  symptom  of  betraying  me  while  we  are  here,  and  I 
denounce  thee  to  the  English,  who  might  pardon  the  suc- 
cessful villain,  but  not  him  who  can  only  offer  prayers  for 
his  life  in  place  of  useful  services.  Let  me  see  thee  flinch 
when  we  are  beyond  the  Ghauts,  andtheNawaub  shall  know 
thy  intrigues  with  the  Nizam  and  the  Mahrattas,  and  thy 
resolution  to  deliver  up  Bangalore  to  the  English,  when  the 
imprudence  of  Tippoo  shall  have  made  thee  killedar.  Go 
where  thou  wilt,  slave,  thou  shalt  find  me  thy  mistress." 

'*  And  a  fair,  though  an  unkind,  one,"  said  the  counter- 
feit Sadoc,  suddenly  changing  his  tone  to  an  affectation  of 
tenderness.  "  It  is  true  I  pity  this  unhappy  woman — true  I 
would  save  her  if  I  could ;  but  most  unjust  to  suppose  I 
would  in  any  circumstances  prefer  her  to  my  nourjelian, 
my  light  of  the  world,  my  mootee  maliul,  my  pearl  of  the 
palace " 

*'  All  false  coin  and  empty  compliment,"  said  the  Begum. 
*'Let  me  hear,  in  two  brief  words,  that  you  leave  this 
woman  to  my  disposal." 

'^  But  not  to  be  interred  alive  under  your  seat,  like  the  Cir- 
cassian of  whom  you  were  jealous,"  said  Middlemas,  shud- 
dering. 

'^  No,  fool ;  her  lot  shall  not  be  worse  than  that  of  being 
the  favorite  of  a  prince.  Hast  thou,  fugitive  and  criminal 
as  thou  art,  a  better  fate  to  offer  her  ?  " 

*'But,"  replied  Middlemas,  blushing  even  through  his 
base  disguise  at  the  consciousness  of  his  abject  conduct,  '^  I 
will  have  no  force  on  her  inclinations." 

**  Such  truce  she  shall  have  as  the  laws  of  the  zenana 
allow,"  replied  the  female  tyrant.  *'  A  week  is  long  enough 
for  her  to  determine  whether  she  will  be  the  willing  mistress 
of  a  princely  and  generous  lover." 

'^  Ay,"  said  Richard,  ^'  and  before  that  week  expires '' 

He  stopped  short 


123  WA  VERLEY  NO  VELS 

"What  will  happen  before  the  week  expires ?"  said  the 
Begum  Montreville. 

'  *  No  matter — nothing  of  consequence.  I  leave  the  woman's 
fate  with  you." 

"'Tis  well;  we  march  to-night  on  our  return,  so  soon  as 
the  moon  rises.     Give  orders  to  our  retinue." 

^'  To  hear  is  to  obey/'  replied  the  seeming  slave,  and  left 
tho  apartment. 

The  eyes  of  the  Begum  remained  fixed  on  the  door  through 
which  he  had  passed.  '^  Villain — double-dyed  villain!"  she 
said,  "  I  see  thy  drift:  thou  wouldst  betray  Tippoo,  in  policy 
alike  and  in  love.  But  me  thou  canst  not  betray.  Ho,  there 
who  waits  ?  Let  a  trusty  messenger  be  ready  to  set  off  in- 
stantly with  letters,  which  I  will  presently  make  ready.  His 
departure  must  be  a  secret  to  every  one.  And  now  shall  this 
pale  phantom  soon  know  her  destiny,  and  learn  what  it  is  to 
have  rivaled  Adela  Montreville." 

While  the  amazonian  princess  meditated  plans  of  venge- 
ance against  her  innocent  rival  and  the  guilty  lover,  the 
latter  plotted  as  deeply  for  his  own  purpose.  He  had  waited 
until  such  brier  twilight  as  India  enjoys  rendered  his  dis- 
guise complete,  then  set  out  in  haste  for  the  part  of  Madras 
inhabited  by  the  Europeans,  or,  as  it  is  termed.  Fort  St. 
George. 

"  I  will  save  her  yet,"  he  said  :  "  ere  Tippoo  can  seize  his 
prize,  we  will  raise  around  his  ears  a  storm  which  would 
drive  the  God  of  \Var  from  the  arms  of  the  Goddess  of  Beauty. 
The  trap  shall  close  its  fangs  upon  this  Indian  tiger  ere  he 
has  time  to  devour  the  bait  which  enticed  him  into  the  snare." 

While  Middlemas  cherished  these  hopes,  he  approached 
the  residency.  The  sentinel  on  duty  stopped  him,  as  of 
course  ;  bat  he  was  in  possession  of  the  countersign,  and  en- 
tered without  opposition.  He  rounded  the  building  in  which 
the  President  of  the  Council  resided — an  able  and  active,  but 
unconscientious,  man,  who  neither  in  his  own  affairs  nor  in 
those  of  thb  Company  was  supposed  to  embarrass  himself 
much  about  the  means  which  he  used  to  attain  his  object. 
A  tap  at  a  small  postern-gate  was  answered  by  a  black  slave, 
who  admitted  Middlemas  to  that  necessary  appurtenance  of 
every  government,  a  back  stair,  which,  in  its  turn,  conducted 
him  to  the  office  of  the  Bramin  Paupiah,  the  dubash,  or 
steward,  of  the  great  man,  and  by  whose  means  chiefly  he 
communicated  with  the  native  courts,  and  carried  on  many 
mysterious  intrigues,  which  he  did  not  communicate  to  hia 
brethren  at  the  council-board. 


THE  S UR GEON  'S  DA  UGH  TER  123 

It  18  perhaps  justice  to  the  guilty  and  unhappy  Middlemas 
to  suppose  that,  if  the  agency  of  the  British  officer  had  been 
employed,  he  might  have  been  induced  to  throw  himself  on 
his  mercy,  might  have  explained  the  whole  of  his  nefarious 
bargain  with  Tippoo,  and,  renouncing  his  guilty  projects  of 
ambition,  might  have  turned  his  whole  thoughts  upon  saving 
Menie  Gray,  ere  she  was  transported  beyond  the  reach  of 
British  protection.  But  the  thin,  dusky  form  which  stood 
before  him,  wrapped  in  robes  of  muslin  embroidered  with 
gold,  was  that  of  Paupiah,  known  as  a  master-counselor  of 
dark  projects,  an  Oriental  Michiavel,  whose  premature 
wrinkles  were  the  result  of  many  an  intrigue,  in  which  the 
existence  of  the  poor,  the  happiness  of  the  rich,  the  honor 
of  men,  and  the  chastity  of  women  had  been  sacrificed  with- 
out scruple  to  attain  some  private  or  political  advantage. 
He  did  not  even  inquire  by  what  means  the  renegade  Briton 
proposed  to  acquire  that  influence  with  Tippoo  which  might 
enable  him  to  betray  him  :  he  only  desired  to  be  assured 
that  the  fact  was  real. 

*'  You  speak  at  the  risk  of  your  head  if  you  deceive  Pau- 
piah, or  make  Paupiah  the  means  of  deceiving  his  master. 
I  know,  so  does  all  Madras,  that  the  Nawaub  has  placed  his 
young  son,  Tippoo,  as  vice-regent  of  his  newly-conquered 
territory  of  Bangalore,  which  Hyder  hath  lately  added  to  his 
dominions.  But  that  Tippoo  should  bestow  the  government 
of  that  important  place  on  an  apostate  Feringi  seems  more 
doubtful.'^ 

•*  Tippoo  is  young,"  answered  Middlemas,  *'  and  to  youth 
the  temptation  of  the  passions  is  what  a  lily  on  the  surface 
of  the  lake  is  to  childhood  :  they  will  risk  life  to  reach  it, 
though,  when  obtained,  it  is  of  little  value.  Tippoo  has  the 
cunning  of  his  father  and  his  military  talents,  but  the  lacks 
his  cautious  wisdom. *' 

''  Thou  speakest  truth  ;  but  when  thou  art  governor  of 
Bangalore,  hast  thou  forces  to  hold  the  place  till  thou  art 
relieved  by  the  Mahrattas  or  by  the  British  ?  " 

'*  Doubt  it  not :  the  soldiers  of  the  Begum  Mootee  Mahul, 
whom  the  Europeans  call  Montreville,  are  less  hers  than 
mine.  I  am  myself  her  huTcshee  (general),  and  her  sirdars 
are  at  my  devotion.  With  these  I  could  keep  Bangalore  for 
two  months,  and  the  British  army  may  be  before  it  in  a  week. 
What  do  you  risk  by  advancing  General  Smithes  army  nearer 
to  the  frontier  ?  " 

*'  We  risk  a  settled  peace  with  Hyder,"  answered  Paupiah, 
**  for  which  he  has  made  advantageous  offers.     Yet  I  say  not 


lU  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

but  thy  plan  may  be  most  advantageous.  Thou  say  est  Tip- 
poo's  treasures  are  in  the  fort  ?  *' 

"  His  treasures  and  his  zenana  ;  I  may  even  be  able  to  se- 
cure his  person/' 

*'  That  were  a  goodly  pledge/'  answered  the  Hindoo 
minister. 

"And  you  consent  that  the  treasures  shall  be  divided  to 
the  last  rupee,  as  in  this  scroll  ?  " 

"  The  share  of  Paupiah's  master  is  too  small,"  said  the 
Bramin ;  "and  the  name  of  Paupiah  is  unnoticed." 

"The  share  of  the  Begum  may  be  divided  between  Pau- 
piah and  his  master,"  answered  Middlemas. 

"  But  the  Begum  will  expect  her  proportion,"  replied 
Paupiah. 

"  Let  me  alone  to  deal  with  her,"  said  Middlemas.  "  Be- 
fore the  blow  is  struck,  she  shall  not  know  of  our  private 
treaty,  and  afterwards  her  disappointment  will  be  of  little 
consequence.  And  now,  remember  my  stipulations — my 
rank  to  be  restored,  my  full  pardon  to  be  granted." 

"  Ay,"  replied  Paupiah,  cautiously,  "  should  you  suc- 
ceed. But  were  you  to  betray  what  has  here  passed,  I  will 
find  the  dagger  of  a  lootie  which  shall  reach  thee,  wert  thou 
sheltered  under  the  folds  of  the  Nawaub's  garment.  In  the 
mean  time,  take  this  missive,  and  when  you  are  in  possession 
of  Bangalore  despatch  it  to  General  Smith,  whose  division 
shall  have  orders  to  approach  as  near  the  frontiers  of  My- 
sore as  may  be,  without  causing  suspicion." 

Thus  parted  this  worthy  pair,  Paupiah  to  report  to  his 
principal  the  progress  of  these  dark  machinations,  Middle- 
mas to  join  the  Begum  on  her  return  to  the  Mysore.  The 
gold  and  diamonds  of  Tippoo,  the  importance  which  he  was 
about  to  acquire,  the  ridding  himself  at  once  of  the  capri- 
cious authority  of  the  irritable  Tippoo  and  the  troublesome 
claims  of  the  Begum,  were  such  agreeable  subjects  of  con- 
templation, that  he  scarcely  thought  of  the  fate  of  his  Euro- 
pean victim,  unless  to  salve  his  conscience  with  the  hope 
that  the  sole  injury  she  could  sustain  might  be  the  alarm  of 
a  few  days,  during  the  course  of  which  he  would  acquire  the 
means  of  delivering  her  from  the  tyrant  in  whose  zenana  she 
was  to  remain  a  temporary  prisoner.  He  resolved,  at  the 
same  time,  to  abstain  from  seeing  her  till  the  moment  he 
could  afford  her  protection,  justly  considerhig  the  danger 
which  his  whole  plan  might  incur  if  he  again  awakened  the 
jealousy  of  the  Begum.  This,  he  trusted,  was  now  asleep ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  their  return  to  Tippoo's  camp,  neai 


THE  S  UBGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  125 

Bangalore,  it  was  his  study  to  soothe  this  ambitious  and 
crafty  female  by  blandishments,  intermingled  with  the  more 
splendid  prospects  of  wealth  and  power  to  be  opened  to 
them  both,  as  he  pretended,  by  the  success  of  his  present 
enterprise. 


CHAPTER  Xra 

Ft  appears  that  the  jealous  and  tyrannical  Begnm  rlid  not 
long  suspend  her  purpose  of  agonizing  her  rival  by  acquaint- 
ing her  with  her  intended  fate.  By  prayers  or  rewards, 
Menie  Gray  prevailed  on  a  servant  of  Earn  Sing  Cottah  tc 
deliver  to  Hartley  the  following  distracted  note  : — 

*'  All  is  true  your  fears  foretold.  He  has  dolivered  mc 
up  to  a  cruel  woman,  who  threatens  to  sell  me  to  the  tyrant 
Tippoo.  Save  me  if  you  can  ;  if  you  have  not  pity,  or  can- 
not give  me  aid,  there  is  none  left  upon  earth. — M.  G.'* 

The  haste  with  which  Dr.  Hartley  sped  to  the  l<'ort,  and 
demanded  an  audience  of  the  governor,  was  defeated  by  the 
delays  interposed  by  Paupiah. 

It  did  not  suit  the  plans  of  this  artful  Hindoo  that  any 
hiterruption  should  be  opposed  to  the  departure  of  the 
Begum  and  her  favorite,  considering  how  much  the  plans  ot 
the  last  corresponded  with  his  own.  He  affected  incre- 
dulity on  the  charge  when  Hartley  complained  of  an  English- 
woman being  detained  in  the  train  of  the  Begum  against  her 
consent,  treated  the  complaint  of  Miss  Gray  as  the  result  of 
some  female  quarrel  unworthy  of  particular  attention,  and 
when  at  length  he  took  some  steps  for  examining  further 
into  the  matter,  he  contrived  they  should  be  so  tardy,  that 
the  Begum  and  her  retinue  were  far  beyond  the  reach  of  in- 
terruption. 

Hartley  let  his  indignation  betray  him  into  reproaches 
against  Paupiah,  in  which  his  principal  was  not  spared. 
This  only  served  to  give  the  impassible  Bramin  a  pretext  for 
excluding  him  from  the  residency,  with  a  hint  that,  if  his 
language  continued  to  be  of  such  an  imprudent  character, 
he  might  expect  to  be  removed  from  Madras,  and  stationed 
at  some  hill  fort  or  village  among  the  mountains,  where  his 
medical  knowledge  would  find  full  exercise  in  protecting 
himself  and  others  from  the  unhealthiness  of  the  climate. 

As  ho  retired,  bursting  with  ineffectual  indignation, 
Esdale  was  the  first  person  whom  Hartley  chanced  to  meet 

1S6 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  121 

with,  and  to  him,  ctung  with  impatience,  he  commanicated 
what  he  termed  the  infamous  conduct  of  the  governor's 
dubash,  connived  at,  as  he  had  but  too  much  reason  to  sup- 
pose, by  the  governor  himself  ;  exclaiming  against  the  want 
of  spirit  which  they  betrayed,  in  abandoning  a  British  sub- 
ject to  the  fraud  of  renegades  and  the  force  of  a  tyrant. 

Esdale  listened  with  that  sort  of  anxiety  which  prudent 
men  betray  when  they  feel  themselves  like  to  be  drawn  into 
trouble  by  the  discourse  of  an  imprudent  friend. 

''  If  you  desire  to  be  personally  righted  in  this  matter," 
said  he  at  length,  *' you  must  apply  to  Leadenhall  Street, 
where  I  suspect — betwixt  ourselves — complaints  are  accu- 
mulating fast,  both  against  Paupiah  and  his  master." 

**  I  care  for  neither  of  them,"  said  Hartley  ;  *'  I  need  no 
personal  redress — I  desire  none.  I  only  want  succor  for 
Menie  Gray." 

"In  that  case,"  said  Esdale,  ''you  have  only  one  re- 
source :  you  must  apply  to  Hyder  himself " 

"  To  Hyder — to  the  usurper — the  tyrant  ?  " 

''Yes,  to  this  usurper  and  tyrant,"  answered  Esdale, 
"you  must  be  contented  to  apply.  His  pride  is,  to  be 
thought  a  strict  administrator  of  justice  ;  and  perhaps  he 
may  on  this,  as  on  other  occasions,  choose  to  display  him- 
self in  the  light  of  an  impartial  magistrate." 

"  Then  I  go  to  demand  justice  at  his  footstool,"  said 
Hartley. 

"  Not  so  fast,  my  dear  Hartley,"  answered  his  friend ; 
"  first  consider  the  risk.  Hyder  is  just  by  reflection,  and 
perhaps  from  political  considerations  ;  but  by  temperament 
nis  blood  is  as  unruly  as  ever  beat  under  a  black  skin,  and 
if  you  do  not  find  him  in  the  vein  of  judging,  he  is  likely 
enough  to  be  in  that  of  killing.  Stakes  and  bowstrings  are 
as  frequently  in  his  head  as  the  adjustment  of  the  scales  of 
justice." 

"  No  matter,  I  will  instantly  present  myself  at  his  durhar. 
The  governor  cannot  for  very  shame  refuse  me  letters  of 
credence." 

"  Never  think  of  asking  them,"  said  his  more  expe- 
rienced friend  ;  "  it  would  cost  Paupiah  little  to  have  them 
so  worded  as  to  induce  Hyder  to  rid  our  sable  dubash  at  once 
and  forever  of  the  sturdy,  free-spoken  Dr.  Adam  Hartley. 
A  vakeel,  or  messenger  of  government,  sets  out  to-morrow 
for  Seringapatam  ;  contrive  to  join  him  on  the  road,  his 
passport  will  protect  you  both.  Do  you  know  none  of  the 
chiefs  about  Hyder's  person  ?  " 


12^  WAVERLEY  NOVIJLS 

"  None,  excepting  his  late  emissary  to  this  place,  Barak 
el  Hadgi/'  answered  Hartley. 

"  His  support/'  said  Esdale,  *'  although  only  a  fakir,  may 
be  as  effectual  as  that  of  persons  of  more  essential  conse- 
quence. And,  to  say  the  truth,  where  the  caprice  of  a 
despot  is  the  question  in  debate,  there  is  no  knowing  upon 
what  it  is  best  to  reckon.  Take  my  advice,  my  dear  Hartley, 
leave  this  poor  girl  to  her  fate.  After  all,  by  placing  your- 
self in  an  attitude  of  endeavoring  to  save  her,  it  is  a  hundred 
to  one  that  you  only  ensure  your  own  destruction.*' 

Hartley  shook  his  head,  and  bade  Esdale  hastily  farewell ; 
leaving  him  in  the  happy  and  self-applauding  state  of  mind 
proper  to  one  who  has  given  the  best  advice  possible  to  a 
friend,  and  may  conscientiously  wash  his  hands  of  all  conse- 
quences. 

Having  furnished  himself  with  money,  and  with  the 
attendance  of  three  trusty  native  servants,  mounted  like 
himself  on  Arab  horses,  and  carrying  with  them  no  tent, 
and  very  little  baggage,  the  anxious  Hartley  lost  not  a 
moment  in  taking  the  road  to  Mysore,  endeavoring,  in  the 
meantime,  by  recollecting  every  story  he  had  ever  heard  of 
Hyder's  justice  and  forbearance,  to  assure  himself  that  he 
should  find  the  Nawaub  disposed  to  protect  a  helpless  female, 
even  against  the  future  heir  of  his  empire. 

Before  he  crossed  the  Madras  territory,  he  overtook  the 
vakeel,  or  messenger  of  the  British  government,  of  whom 
Esdale  had  spoken.  This  man,  accustomed  for  a  sum  of 
money  to  permit  adventurous  European  traders  who  desired 
to  visit  Hyder's  capital  to  share  his  protection,  passport,  and 
escort,  was  not  disposed  to  refuse  the  same  good  office  to  a 
gentleman  of  credit  at  Madras  ;  and,  propitiated  by  an 
additional  gratuity,  undertook  to  travel  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible. It  was  a  journey  which  was  not  prosecuted  without 
much  fatigue  and  considerable  danger,  as  they  had  to 
traverse  a  country  frequently  exposed  to  all  the  evils  of  war, 
more  especially  when  they  approached  the  Ghautsj^hose 
tremendous  mountain-passes  which  descend  from  thetable- 
land  of  Mysore,  and  through  which  the  mighty  streams  that 
arise  in  the  center  of  the  Indian  peninsula  find  their  way  to 
the  ocean. 

The  sun  had  set  ere  the  party  reached  the  foot  of  one  of 
those  perilous  passes,  up  which  lay  the  road  to  Seringapatam. 
A  narrow  path,  which  in  summer  resembled  an  empty  water- 
course, winding  upwards  among  immense  rocks  and  preci- 
pices, was  at  one  time  completely  overshadowed  by  dark 


THE  S URGEON ' S  DA  UGHTEB  129 

groves  of  teak-trees,  and  at  another  found  its  way  beside 
impenetrable  jungles,  the  habitation  of  jackals  and  tigers. 

By  means  of  this  unsocial  path  the  travelers  threaded  their 
way  in  silence — Hartley,  whose  impatience  kept  him  before 
the  vakeel,  eagerly  inquiring  when  the  moon  would  enlighten 
the  darkness,  which,  after  the  sun's  disappearance,  closed  fast 
around  them.  He  was  answered  by  the  natives  according  to 
their  usual  mode  of  expression,  that  the  moon  was  in  her 
dark  side,  and  that  he  was  not  to  hope  to  behold  her  burst- 
ing through  a  cloud  to  illuminate  the  thickets  and  strata  of 
black  and  slaty  rocks  amongst  which  they  were  winding. 
Hartley  had  therefore  no  resource  save  to  keep  his  eye 
steadily  fixed  on  the  lighted  match  of  the  sowar,  or  horse- 
man, who  rode  before  him,  which,  for  sufficient  reasons, 
was  always  kept  in  readiness  to  be  applied  to  the  priming  of 
the  matchlock.  The  vidette,  on  his  part,  kept  a  watchful 
eye  on  the  doivrah,  a  guide  supplied  at  the  last  village,  who, 
having  got  more  than  half-way  from  his  own  house,  was 
much  to  be  suspected  of  meditating  how  to  escape  the 
trouble  of  going  further.  The  dowrah,  on  the  other  hand, 
conscious  of  the  lighted  match  and  loaded  gun  behind  him, 
hallooed  from  time  to  time  to  show  that  he  was  on  his  duty, 
and  to  accelerate  the  march  of  the  travelers.  His  cries 
were  answered  by  an  occasional  ejaculation  of  **  Ulla  ! "  from 
the  black  soldiers,  who  closed  the  rear,  and  who  were  medi- 
tating on  former  adventures,  the  plundering  of  a  kaffila 
(party  of  traveling  merchants),  or  some  such  exploit,  or 
perhaps  reflecting  that  a  tiger,  in  the  neighboring  jungle, 
might  be  watching  patiently  for  the  last  of  the  party,  in 
order  to  spring  upon  him,  according  to  his  usual  practise. 

The  sun,  which  appeared  almost  as  suddenly  as  it  had 
left  them,  served  to  light  the  travelers  in  the  remainder  of 
the  ascent,  and  called  forth  from  the  Mohammedans  belong- 
ing to  the  party  the  morning  prayer  of  Allah  ackhar,  which 
resounded  in  long  notes  among  the  rocks  and  ravines,  and 
they  continued  with  better  advantage  their  forced  march 
until  the  pass  opened  upon  a  boundless  extent  of  jungle, 
with  a  single  high  mud  fort  rising  through  the  midst  of  it. 
Upon  this  plain  rapine  and  war  had  suspended  the  labors  of 
industry,  and  the  rich  vegetation  of  the  soil  had  in  a  few 
years  converted  a  fertile  champaign  country  into  an  almost 
impenetrable  thicket.  Accordingly,  the  banks  of  a  small 
nullah,  or  brook,  were  covered  with  the  footmarks  of  tigers 
and  other  animals  of  prey. 

Here  the  travelers  stopped  to  drink,  and  to  refresh  them* 

9 


180  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VEL8 

selves  and  their  horses  ;  and  it  was  near  this  spot  that  Har- 
tley saw  a  sight  which  forced  him  to  compare  the  subject 
which  engrossed  his  own  thoughts  with  the  distress  that  had 
afflicted  another. 

At  a  spot  not  far  distant  from  the  brook,  the  guide  called 
their  attention  to  a  most  wretched-looking  man,  overgrown 
with  hair,  who  was  seated  on  the  skin  of  a  tiger.  His  body 
was  covered  with  mud  and  ashes,  his  skin  sunburned,  his 
dress  a  few  wretched  tatters.  He  appeared  not  to  observe 
the  approach  of  the  strangers,  neither  moving  nor  speaking 
a  word,  but  remaining  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  small  and 
rude  tomb,  formed  of  the  black  slate-stones  which  lay 
around,  and  exhibiting  a  small  recess  for  a  lamp.  As  they 
approached  the  man,  and  placed  before  him  a  rupee  or  two 
and  some  rice,  they  observed  that  a  tiger's  skull  and  bones 
lay  beside  him,  with  a  saber  almost  consumed  by  rust. 

While  they  gazed  on  this  miserable  object,  the  guide 
acquainted  them  with  his  tragical  history.  Sadhu  Sing  had 
been  a  sipahee,  or  soldier,  and  freebooter  of  course,  the 
native  and  the  pride  of  a  half-ruined  village  which  they  had 
passed  on  the  preceding  day.  He  was  betrothed  to  the 
daughter  of  a  sipahee,  who  served  in  the  mud  fort  which 
they  saw  at  a  distance  rising  above  the  jungle.  In  due  time, 
Sadhu,  with  his  friends,  came  for  the  purpose  of  the  mar- 
riage, and  to  bring  home  the  bride.  She  was  mounted  on  a 
tatoo,  a  small  horse  belonging  to  the  country,  and  Sadhu 
and  his  friends  preceded  her  on  foot  in  all  their  joy  and 
pride.  As  they  approached  the  nullah  near  which  the 
travelers  were  resting,  there  was  heard  a  dreadrul  roar,  ac- 
companied by  a  shriek  of  agony.  Sadhu  Sing,  who  instantly 
turned,  saw  no  trace  of  his  bride,  save  that  her  horse  ran 
wild  in  one  direction,  whilst  in  the  other  the  long  grass  and 
reeds  of  the  jungle  were  moving  like  the  ripple  of  the  ocean, 
when  distorted  by  the  course  of  a  shark  holding  its  way  near 
the  surface.  Sadhu  drew  his  saber  and  rushed  forward  in 
that  direction  ;  the  rest  of  the  party  remained  motionless 
until  roused  by  a  short  roar  of  agony.  They  then  plunged 
into  the  jungle  with  their  drawn  weapons,  where  they 
speedily  found  Sadhu  Sing  holding  in  his  arms  the  lifeless 
corpse  of  his  bride,  while  a  little  farther  lay  the  body  of  the 
tiger,  slain  by  such  a  blow  over  the  neck  as  desperation  itself 
could  alone  have  discharged.  The  brideless  bridegroom 
would  permit  none  to  interfere  with  his  sorrow.  He  dug  a 
grave  for  his  Mora,  and  erected  over  it  the  rude  tomb  they 
saw,  and  never  afterwards  left  the  spot.     The  beasts  of  prey 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  181 

themselves  seemed  to  respect  or  dread  the  extremity  of  his 
Borrow.  His  friends  brought  him  food  and  water  from  the 
nnllah  ;  but  he  neither  smiled  nor  showed  any  mark  of  ac- 
knowledgment unless  when  they  brought  him  flowers  to  deck 
the  grave  of  Mora.  Four  or  five  years,  according  to  the  guide, 
had  passed  away,  and  there  Sadhu  Sing  still  remained  among 
the  trophies  of  his  grief  and  his  vengeance,  exhibiting  all  the 
symptoms  of  advanced  age,  though  still  in  the  prime  of  youth. 

The  tale  hastened  the  travelers  from  their  resting-place ; 
the  vakeel  because  it  reminded  him  of  the  dangers  of  the 
jungle,  and  Hartley  because  it  coincided  too  well  with  the 
probable  fate  of  his  beloved,  almost  within  the  grasp  of  a 
more  formidable  tiger  than  that  whose  skeleton  lay  beside 
Sadhu  Sing. 

It  was  at  the  mud  fort  already  mentioned  that  the  travelers 
received  the  first  accounts  of  the  progress  of  the  Begum  and 
her  party,  by  a  peon,  or  foot-soldier,  who  had  been  in  their 
company,  but  was  now  on  his  return  to  the  coast.  "  They 
had  traveled,'*  he  said,  *'  with  great  speed,  until  they  ac- 
cended  the  Ghauts,  where  they  were  joined  by  a  party  of 
the  Begum's  own  forces  ;  and  he  and  others,  who  had  been 
brought  from  Madras  as  a  temporary  escort,  were  paid  and 
dismissed  to  their  homes.  After  this,  he  understood,  it  was 
the  purpose  of  the  Begum  Mootee  Mahul  to  proceed  by  slow 
marches  and  frequent  halts  to  Bangalore,  the  vicinity  of 
which  place  she  did  not  desire  to  reach  until  Prince  Tippoo, 
with  whom  she  desired  an  interview,  should  have  returned 
from  an  expedition  towards  Vandicotta,  in  which  he  had 
lately  been  engaged.'' 

From  the  result  of  his  anxious  inquiries.  Hartley  had 
reason  to  hope  that,  though  Seringapatam  was  seventy-five 
miles  more  to  the  eastward  [westward]  than  Bangalore,  yet, 
by  using  diligence,  he  might  have  time  to  throw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  Hyder  and  beseech  his  interposition  before  the 
meeting  betwixt  Tippoo  and  the  Begum  should  decide  the 
fate  of  Menie  Gray.  On  the  other  hand,  he  trembled  as  the 
peon  told  him  that  the  Begum's  bukshee,  or  general,  who 
had  traveled  to  Madras  with  her  in  disguise,  had  now  assumed 
the  dress  and  character  belonging  to  his  rank,  and  it  was 
expected  he  was  to  be  honored  by  the  Mohammedan  prince 
with  some  high  office  of  dignity.  With  still  deeper  anxiety, 
he  learned  that  a  palanquin,  watched  with  sedulous  care  by 
the  slaves  of  Oriental  jealousy,  contained,  it  was  whispered, 
a  Feringi,  or  Frankish  woman,  beautiful  as  an  houri,  who 
had  been  brought  from  England  by  the  Begum  as  a  present 


132  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

to  Tippoo.  The  deed  of  villainy  was  therefore  in  full  train 
to  be  accomplished  ;  it  remained  to  see  whether,  by  diligence 
on  Hartley^s  side,  its  course  could  be  interrupted. 

When  this  eager  vindicator  of  betrayed  innocence  arrived 
in  the  capital  of  Hyder,  it  may  be  believed  that  he  consumed 
no  time  in  viewing  the  temple  of  the  celebrated  Vishnoo,  or 
in  surveying  the  splendid  gardens  called  Loll-bang,  which 
were  the  monument  of  Hyder's  magnificence,  and  now  hold 
his  mortal  remains.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  no  sooner  ar- 
rived in  the  city  than  he  hastened  to  the  principal  mosque, 
having  no  doubt  that  he  was  there  most  likely  to  learn  some 
tidings  of  Barak  el  Hadgi.  He  approached,  accordingly,  the 
sacred  spot,  and  as  to  enter  it  would  have  cost  a  Feringi  his 
life,  he  employed  the  agency  of  a  devout  Mussulman  to  obtain 
information  concerning  the  person  whom  he  sought.  He 
was  not  long  in  learning  that  the  fakir  Barak  was  within  the 
mosque,  as  he  had  anticipated,  busied  with  his  holy  office  of 
reading  passages  from  the  Koran  and  its  most  approved 
commentators.  To  interrupt  him  in  his  devout  task  was 
impossible,  and  it  was  only  by  a  high  bribe  that  he  could 
prevail  on  the  same  Moslem  whom  he  had  before  employed 
to  slip  into  the  sleeve  of  the  holy  man^s  robe  a  paper  con- 
taining his  name  and  that  of  the  khan  in  which  the  vakeel 
had  taken  up  his  residence.  The  agent  brought  back  for 
answer,  that  the  fakir,  immersed,  as  was  to  be  expected,  in  the 
holy  service  which  he  was  in  the  act  of  discharging,  had  paid 
no  visible  attention  to  the  symbol  of  intimation  which  the 
Feringi  sahib  (European  gentleman)  had  sent  to  him.  Dis- 
tracted with  the  loss  of  time,  of  which  each  moment  waa 
precious,  Hartley  next  endeavored  to  prevail  on  the  Mussul- 
man to  interrupt  the  fakir's  devotions  with  a  verbal  message  ; 
but  the  man  was  indignant  at  the  very  proposal. 

"Dog  of  a  Christian  !"  he  said,  "  what  art  thou  and  thy 
whole  generation,  that  Barak  el  Hadgi  should  lose  a  divine 
thought  for  the  sake  of  an  infidel  like  thee  ?  " 

Exasperated  beyond  self-possession,  the  unfortunate  Hart- 
ley was  now  about  to  intrude  upon  the  precincts  of  the 
mosque  in  person,  in  hopes  of  interrupting  the  formal  pro- 
longed recitation  which  issued  from  its  recesses,  when  an  old 
man  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  prevented  him  from  a 
rashness  which  might  have  cost  him  his  life,  saying  at  the 
same  time,  "  You  are  a  sahib  Angrezie  (English  gentleman)  ; 
I  have  been  a  telinga  (a  private  soldier)  in  the  Company's  ser- 
vice, and  have  eaten  their  salt.  I  will  do  your  errand  for 
you  to  the  fakir  Barak  el  Hadgi/' 


THE  SUBGEON  ' S  DA UGHTER  133 

So  saying,  he  entered  the  mosque,  and  presently  returned 
with  the  fakir's  answer,  in  these  enigmatical  w^ords — '^  He 
who  would  see  the  sun  rise  must  watch  till  the  dawn/' 

With  this  poor  subject  of  consolation,  Hartley  retired  to 
his  inn,  to  meditate  on  the  futility  of  the  professions  of  the 
natives,  and  to  devise  some  other  mode  of  finding  access  to 
Hyder  than  that  which  he  had  hitherto  trusted  to.  On  this 
point,  however,  he  lost  all  hope,  being  informed  by  his  late 
fellow-traveler,  whom  he  found  at  the  khan,  that  the  Na- 
waub  was  absent  from  the  city  on  a  secret  expedition,  which 
might  detain  him  for  two  or  three  days.  This  was  the  answer 
which  the  vakeel  himself  had  received  from  the  dewan,  with 
a  farther  intimation  that  be  must  hold  himself  ready,  when 
he  was  required,  to  deliver  his  credentials  to  Prince  Tippoo, 
instead  of  the  Nawaub,  his  business  being  referred  to  the 
former  in  a  way  not  very  promising  for  the  success  of  his 
mission. 

Hartley  was  now  nearly  thrown  into  despair.  He  applied 
to  more  than  one  officer  supposed  to  have  credit  with  the 
Nawaub,  but  the  slightest  hint  of  the  nature  of  his  business 
seemed  to  strike  all  with  terror.  Not  one  of  the  persons  he 
applied  to  would  engage  in  the  affair,  or  even  consent  to  give 
it  a  hearing  ;  and  the  dewan  plainly  told  him,  that  to  engage 
in  opposition  to  Prince  Tippoo's  wishes  was  the  ready  way  to 
destruction,  and  exhorted  him  to  return  to  the  coast.  Driven 
almost  to  destraction  by  his  various  failures.  Hartley  betook 
himself  in  the  evening  to  the  khan.  The  call  of  the  muez- 
zins thundering  from  the  minarets  had  invited  the  faithful 
to  prayers,  when  a  black  servant,  about  fifteen  years  old,  stood 
before  Hartley,  and  pronounced  these  words,  deliberately, 
and  twice  over — '^  Thus  says  Barak  el  Hadgi,  the  watcher  in 
the  mosque — He  that  would  see  the  sun  rise,  let  him  turn 
towards  the  east.''  He  then  left  the  caravanserai ;  and  it 
may  be  well  supposed  that  Hartley,  starting  from  the  carpet 
on  which  he  had  lain  down  to  repose  himself,  followed  hia 
youthful  guide  with  renewed  vigor  and  palpitating  hope. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

Twas  the  hour  when  rites  unholy 
Call'd  each  paynim  voice  to  prayer. 

And  the  star  that  faded  slowly 
Left  to  dews  the  freshen'd  air. 

Day  his  sultry  fires  had  wasted, 

Calm  and  cool  the  moonbeams  shone ; 

To  the  vizier's  lofty  palace 
One  bold  Christian  came  alone. 
Thomas  Campbeel.    Quoted  from  memory* 

The  twilight  darkened  into  night  so  fast,  that  it  was  only 
by  his  white  dress  that  Hartley  could  discern  his  guide,  as 
he  tripped  along  the  splendid  bazaar  of  the  city.  But  the 
obscurity  was  so  far  favorable,  that  it  prevented  the  incon- 
venient attention  which  the  natives  might  otherwise  have 
bestowed  upon  the  European  in  his  native  dress,  a  sight  at 
that  time  very  rare  in  Seringapatam. 

The  various  turnings  and  windings  through  which  he  was 
conducted  ended  at  a  small  door  in  a  wall,  which,  from  the 
branches  that  hung  over  it,  seemed  to  surround  a  garden  or 
grove. 

The  postern  opened  on  a  tap  from  his  guide,  and  the  slave 
having  entered.  Hartley  prepared  to  follow,  but  stepped  back 
as  a  gigantic  African  brandished  at  his  head  a  scimitar 
three  fingers  broad.  The  young  slave  touched  his  country- 
man with  a  rod  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  it  seemed  as 
if  the  touch  disabled  the  giant,  whose  arm  and  weapon  sunk 
instantly.  Hartley  entered  without  farther  opposition,  and 
was  now  in  a  grove  of  mango-trees,  through  which  an  in- 
fant moon  was  twinkling  faintly  amid  the  murmur  of  waters, 
the  sweet  song  of  the  nightingale,  and  the  odors  of  the 
rose,  yellow  jasmine,  orange  and  citron  flowers,  and  Persian 
narcissus.  Huge  domes  and  arches,  which  were  seen  im- 
perfectly in  the  quivering  light,  seemed  to  intimate  the 
neighborhood  of  some  sacred  edifice,  where  the  fakir  had 
doubtless  taken  up  his  residence. 

♦  It  is  only  in  the  last  two  lines  that  the  Author  has  made  a  ser- 
lou8  alteration  on  Campbell.  (Laing). 

134 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  ISS 

Hartley  pressed  on  with  as  mucli  haste  as  he  could,  and 
entered  a  side  door  and  narrow  vaulted  passage,  at  the  end 
of  which  was  another  door.  Here  his  guide  stopped,  but 
pointed  and  made  indications  that  the  European  should 
enter.  Hartley  did  so,  and  found  himself  in  a  small  cell, 
such  as  we  have  formerly  described,  wherein  sat  Barak  el 
Hadgi,  with  another  fakir,  who,  to  judge  from  the  extreme 
dignity  of  a  white  beard,  which  ascended  up  to  his  eyes  on 
each  side,  must  be  a  man  of  great  sanctity,  as  well  as  im- 
portance. 

Hartley  pronounced  the  usual  salutation  of  *'  Salam 
alaikum  "  in  the  most  modest  and  deferential  tone  ;  but  his 
former  friend  was  so  far  from  responding  in  their  former 
strain  of  intimacy,  that,  having  consulted  the  eye  of  his 
older  companion,  he  barely  pointed  to  a  third  carpet,  upon 
which  the  stranger  seated  himself  cross-legged  after  the 
country  fashion,  and  a  profound  silence  prevailed  for  the 
space  of  several  minutes.  Hartley  knew  the  Oriental  cus- 
toms too  well  to  endanger  the  success  of  his  suit  by  precip- 
itation. He  waited  an  intimation  to  speak.  At  length  it 
came,  and  from  Barak. 

^^  When  the  pilgrim  Barak,"  he  said,  ''dwelt  at  Madras 
he  had  eyes  and  a  tongue  ;  but  now  he  is  guided  by  those  of 
his  father,  the  holy  Scheik  Hali  ben  Khaledoun,  the  supe- 
rior of  his  convent.'^ 

This  extreme  humility  Hartley  thought  inconsistent  with 
the  affectation  of  possessing  superior  influence  which  Barak 
had  shown  while  at  the  presidency ;  but  exaggeration  of 
their  own  consequence  is  a  foible  common  to  all  who  find 
themselves  in  a  land  of  strangers.  Addressing  the  senior 
fakir,  therefore,  he  told  him  in  as  few  words  as  possible  the 
villainous  plot  which  was  laid  to  betray  Menie  Gray  into 
the  hands  of  the  Prince  Tippoo.  He  made  his  suit  for  the 
reverend  father's  intercession  with  the  prince  himself,  and 
with  his  father  the  Nawaub,  in  the  most  persuasive  terms. 
The  fakir  listened  to  him  with  an  inflexible  and  immovable 
aspect,  similar  to  that  with  which  a  wooden  saint  regards 
his  eager  supplicants.  There  was  a  second  pause,  when, 
after  resuming  his  pleading  more  than  once.  Hartley  was  at 
length  compelled  to  end  it  for  want  of  matter. 

The  silence  was  broken  by  the  elder  fakir,  who,  after 
shooting  a  glance  at  his  younger  companion  by  a  turn  of  the 
eye,  without  the  least  alteration  of  the  position  of  the  head 
and  body,  said,  "  The  unbeliever  has  spoken  like  a  poet. 
But  does  he  think  that  the  Nawaub  Hyder  Ali  Khan  Be- 


136  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

hauder  will  contest  with  his  son,  Tippoo  the  Victorious,  the 
possession  of  an  infidel  slave  ?  " 

Hartley  received  at  the  same  time  a  side  glance  from  Barak, 
as  if  encouraging  him  to  plead  his  own  cause.  He  suffered 
a  minute  to  elapse,  and  then  replied — 

"  The  Nawaub  is  in  the  place  of  the  prophet — a  judge 
over  the  low  as  well  as  high.  It  is  written  that,  when  the 
Prophet  decided  a  controversy  between  the  two  sparrows 
concerning  a  grain  of  rice,  his  wife  Fatima  said  to  him, 
'  Doth  the  missionary  of  Allah  well  to  bestow  his  time  in 
distributing  justice  on  a  matter  so  slight,  and  between  such 
despicable  litigants  ? '  '  Know,  woman,^  answered  the 
Prophet,  '  that  the  sparrows  and  the  grain  of  rice  are  the 
creations  of  Allah.  They  are  not  worth  more  than  thou  hast 
spoken  ;  but  justice  is  a  treasure  of  inestimable  price,  and  it 
must  be  imparted  by  him  who  holdeth  power  to  all  who 
require  it  at  his  hand.  The  prince  doth  the  will  of  Allah, 
who  gives  it  alike  in  small  matters  as  in  great,  and  to  the 
poor  as  well  as  the  powerful.  To  the  hungry  bird  a  grain  of 
rice  is  as  a  chaplet  of  pearls  to  a  sovereign.'    I  have  spoken.'* 

"  Bismallah  ! — Praised  be  God  !  he  hath  spoken  like  a 
moullah,''  said  the  elder  fakir,  with  a  little  more  emotion, 
and  some  inclination  of  his  head  towards  Barak,  for  on 
Hartley  he  scarcely  deigned  even  to  look." 

**  The  lips  have  spoken  it  whick  cannot  lie,'*  replied 
Barak,  and  there  was  again  a  pause. 

It  was  once  more  broken  by  Scheik  Hali,  who,  addressing 
himself  directly  to  Hartley,  demanded  of  him,  '*  Hast  thou 
heard,  Feringi'  of  aught  of  treason  meditated  by  this  hafr 
(infidel)  against  the  Nawaub  Behauder  ?  " 

*'  Out  of  a  traitor  cometh  treason,''  said  Hartley,  **  but, 
to  speak  after  my  knowledge,  I  am  not  conscious  of  such 
design." 

*'  There  is  truth  in  the  words  of  him,"  said  the  fakir, 
*'  who  accuseth  not  his  enemy  save  on  his  knowledge.  The 
things  thou  hast  spoken  shall  be  laid  before  the  Nawaub  ; 
and  as  Allah  and  he  will,  so  shall  the  issue  be.  Meantime, 
return  to  thy  khan,  and  prepare  to  attend  the  vakeel  of  thy 
government,  who  is  to  travel  with  dawn  to  Bangalore, 
the  strong,  the  happy,  the  holy  city.  Peace  be  with  thee  I 
Is  it  not  so,  my  son  ?*" 

Barak,  to  whom  this  appeal  was  made,  replied,  "  Even  as 
my  father  hath  spoken." 

Hartley  had  no  alternative  but  to  arise  and  take  his  leave, 
with  the  usual  phrase,  "  Salam — God's  peace  be  with  yon  J  ^ 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  13t 

His  youthful  guide,  who  waited  his  return  without,  con- 
ducted him  once  more  to  his  kahn,  through  by-paths  which 
he  could  not  have  found  out  without  pilotage.  His  thoughts 
were  in  the  mean  time  strongly  engaged  on  his  late  interview. 
He  knew  the  Moslem  men  of  religion  were  not  implicitly  to 
be  trusted.  The  whole  scene  might  be  a  scheme  of  Barak 
to  get  rid  of  the  trouble  of  patronizing  a  European  in  a 
delicate  affair;  and  he  determined  to  be  guided  by  what 
should  seem  to  confirm  or  discredit  the  intimation  which  he 
had  received. 

On  his  arrival  at  the  kahn  he  found  the  vakeel  of  the 
British  government  in  a  great  bustle,  preparing  to  obey  di- 
rections transmitted  to  him  by  the  Nawaub^s  dewan,  or  treas- 
urer, directing  him  to  depart  the  next  morning  with  break 
of  day  for  Bangalore. 

He  expressed  great  discontent  at  the  order,  and  when  Hart- 
ley intimated  his  purpose  of  accompanying  him,  seemed  to 
think  him  a  fool  for  his  pains,  hinting  the  probability  that  Hy- 
der  meant  to  get  rid  of  them  both  by  means  of  the  freebooters, 
through  whose  countries  they  were  to  pass  with  such  a  feeble 
escort.  This  fear  gave  way  to  another  when  the  time  of 
departure  came,  at  which  moment  there  rode  up  about  two 
hundred  of  the  Nawaub's  native  cavalry.  The  sirdar  who 
commanded  these  troops  behaved  with  civility,  and  stated 
that  he  was  directed  to  attend  upon  the  travelers,  and  to 
provide  for  their  safety  and  convenience  on  the  journey  ; 
but  his  manner  was  reserved  and  distant,  and  the  vakeel 
insisted  that  the  force  was  intended  to  prevent  their  escape 
rather  than  for  their  protection.  Under  such  unpleasant 
auspices,  the  journey  between  Seringapatam  and  Bangalore 
was  accomplished  in  two  days  and  part  of  a  third,  the  dis- 
tance being  nearly  eighty  miles. 

On  arriving  in  view  of  this  fine  and  populous  city,  they 
found  an  encampment  already  established  within  a  mile  of 
its  walls.  It  occupied  a  tojje,  or  knoll,  covered  with  trees, 
and  looked  full  on  the  gardens  which  Tippoo  had  created  in 
one  quarter  of  the  city.  The  rich  pavilions  of  the  principal 
persons  flamed  with  silk  and  gold  ;  and  spears  with  gilded 
points,  or  poles  supporting  gold  knobs,  displayed  numerous 
little  banners,  inscribed  with  the  name  of  the  Prophet. 
This  was  the  camp  of  the  Begum  Mootee  Mahul,  who,  with 
a  small  body  of  her  troops,  about  two  hundred  men,  was 
waiting  the  return  of  Tippoo  under  the  walls  of  Bangalore. 
Their  private  motives  for  desiring  a  meeting  the  reader  is 
acquainted  with ;  to  the  public  the  visit  of  the  Begum  had 


138  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

only  the  appearance  of  an  act  of  deference,  frequently  paid 
by  inferior  and  subordinate  princes  to  the  patrons  whom 
they  depend  upon. 

These  facts  ascertained,  the  sirdar  of  the  Nawaub  took  np 
his  own  encampment  within  sight  of  that  of  the  Begum,  but 
at  about  half  a  mile^s  distance,  despatching  to  the  city  a 
messenger  to  announce  to  the  Prince  Tippoo,  so  soon  as  he 
should  arrive,  that  he  had  come  hither  with  the  English 
vakeel. 

The  bustle  of  pitching  a  few  tents  was  soon  over,  and 
Hartley,  solitary  and  sad,  was  left  to  walk  under  the  shade 
of  two  or  three  mango-trees,  and,  looking  to  the  displayed 
streamers  of  the  Begum^s  encampment,  to  reflect  that  amid 
these  insignia  of  Mohammedanism  Menie  Gray  remained, 
destined  by  a  profligate  and  treacherous  lover  to  the  fate  of 
slavery  to  a  heathen  tyrant.  The  consciousness  of  being  in 
her  vicinity  added  to  the  bitter  pangs  with  which  Hartley 
contemplated  her  situation,  and  reflected  how  little  chance 
there  appeared  of  his  being  able  to  rescue  her  from  it  by  the 
mere  force  of  reason  and  justice,  which  was  all  he  could 
oppose  to  the  selfish  passions  of  a  voluptuous  tyrant.  A 
lover  of  romance  might  have  meditated  some  means  of  efl'ect- 
ing  her  release  by  force  or  address  ;  but  Hartley,  though  a 
man  of  courage,  had  no  spirit  of  adventure,  and  would  have 
regarded  as  desperate  any  attempt  of  the  kind. 

His  sole  gleam  of  comfort  arose  from  the  impression  which 
he  had  apparently  made  upon  the  elder  fakir,  which  he  could 
not  help  hoping  might  be  of  some  avail  to  him.  But  on  one 
thing  he  was  firmly  resolved,  and  that  was,  not  to  relinquish 
the  cause  he  had  engaged  in  whilst  a  grain  of  hope  remained. 
He  had  seen  in  his  own  profession  a  quickening  and  a  re- 
vival of  life  in  the  patient's  eye,  even  when  glazed  apparently 
by  the  hand  of  death  ;  and  he  was  taught  confidence  amidst 
moral  evil  by  his  success  in  relieving  that  which  was  physical 
only. 

While  Hartley  was  thus  meditating,  he  was  roused  to 
attention  by  a  heavy  firing  of  artillery  from  the  high  bastions 
of  the  town ;  and,  turning  his  eyes  in  that  direction,  he 
could  see  advancing,  on  the  northern  side  of  Bangalore,  a 
tide  of  cavalry,  riding  tumultuously  forward,  brandishing 
their  spears  in  all  different  attitudes,  and  pressing  their 
horses  to  a  gallop.  The  clouds  of  dust  which  attended  this 
vanguard,  for  such  it  was,  combined  with  the  smoke  of  the 
guns,  did  not  permit  Hartley  to  see  distinctly  the  main  body 
which  followed  ;  but  the  appearance  of  howdahed  elephants 


THE  S URGEON  \S  DA  UGHTEB  139 

and  royal  banners,  dimly  seen  through  the  haze,  plainly  in- 
timated the  return  of  Tippoo  to  Bangalore  ;  while  shouts 
and  irregular  discharges  of  musketry  announced  the  real  or 
pretended  rejoicing  of  the  inhabitants.  The  city  gates  re- 
ceived the  living  torrent  which  rolled  towards  them  ;  the 
clouds  of  smoke  and  dust  were  soon  dispersed,  and  the  horizon 
was  restored  to  serenity  and  silence. 

The  meeting  between  persons  of  importance,  more  espe- 
cially of  royal  rank,  is  a  matter  of  very  great  consequence  in 
India,  and  generally  much  address  is  employed  to  induce  the 
person  receiving  the  visit  to  come  as  far  as  possible  to  meet 
the  visitor.  From  merely  rising  up,  or  going  to  the  edge  of 
the  carpet,  to  advancing  to  the  gate  of  the  palace,  to  that  of 
the  city,  or,  finally,  to  a  mile  or  two  on  the  road,  is  all  sub- 
ject to  negotiation.  But  Tippoo's  impatience  to  possess  the 
fair  European  induced  him  to  grant  on  this  occasion  a  much 
greater  degree  of  courtesy  than  the  Begum  had  dared  to  ex- 
pect, and  he  appointed  his  garden,  adjacent  to  the  city  walls, 
and  indeed  included  within  the  precincts  of  the  fortifications, 
as  the  place  of  their  meeting  ;  the  hour  noon,  on  the  day  suc- 
ceeding his  arrival ;  for  the  natives  seldom  move  early  in  the 
morning,  or  before  having  broken  their  fast.  This  was  in- 
timated to  the  Begum's  messenger  by  the  prince  in  person, 
as,  kneeling  before  him,  he  presented  the  nuzzar  (a  tribute 
consisting  of  three,  five,  or  seven  gold  mohurs,  always  an 
odd  number),  and  received  in  exchange  a  Tclielaut,  or  dress 
of  honor.  The  messenger,  in  return,  was  eloquent  in  de- 
cribing  the  importance  of  his  mistress,  her  devoted  venera- 
tion for  the  prince,  the  pleasure  which  she  experienced  on  the 
prospect  of  their  motakul,  or  meeting,  and  concluded  with 
a  more  modest  compliment  to  his  own  extraordinary^  talents, 
and  the  confidence  which  the  Begum  reposed  in  him.  He 
then  departed  ;  and  orders  were  given  that  on  the  next  day 
all  should  be  in  readiness  for  the  sowarree,  or  grand  proces- 
sion, when  the  prince  was  to  receive  the  Begum  as  his 
honored  guest  at  his  pleasure-house  in  the  gardens. 

Long  before  the  appointed  hour,  the  rendezvous  of  fakirs, 
beggars,  and  idlers,  before  the  gate  of  the  palace,  intimated 
the  excited  expectations  of  those  who  usually  attend  proces- 
sions ;  while  a  more  urgent  set  of  mendicants,  the  courtiers, 
were  hastening  thither,  on  horses  or  elephants,  as  their 
means  afforded,  always  in  a  hurry  to  show  their  zeal,  and 
with  a  speed   proportioned   to  what  they  hoped  or  feared. 

At  noon  precisely,  a  discharge  of  cannon,  placed  in  the 
outer  courts,  as  also  of  matchlocks  and  of  small  swivels  car- 


140  WA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

Tied  by  camels  (the  poor  animals  shaking  their  long  ears  at 
every  discharge),  announced  that  Tippoo  had  mounted  his 
elephant.  The  solemn  and  deep  sound  of  the  naggra,  or 
state  drum,  borne  upon  an  elephant,  was  then  heard  like 
the  distant  discharge  of  artillery,  followed  by  a  long  roll 
of  musketry,  and  was  instantly  answered  by  that  of  numer- 
ous trumpets  and  tom-toms,  or  common  drums,  making  a 
discordant,  but  yet  a  martial,  din.  The  noise  increased  as 
the  procession  traversed  the  outer  courts  of  the  palace  in 
succession,  and  at  length  issued  from  the  gates,  having  at 
their  head  the  chohdars,  bearing  silver  sticks  and  clubs,  and 
shouting  at  the  pitch  of  their  voices  the  titles  and  the 
virtues  of  Tippoo,  the  great,  the  generous,  the  invincible — 
strong  as  Rustan,  just  as  Noushirvan — with  a  short  prayer 
for  his  continued  health. 

After  these  came  a  confused  body  of  men  on  foot,  bearing 
spears,  matchlocks,  and  banners,  and  intermixed  with  horse- 
men, some  in  complete  shirts  of  mail,  with  caps  of  steel 
under  their  turbans,  some  in  a  sort  of  defensive  armor,  con- 
sisting of  rich  silk  dresses,  rendered  saber-proof  by  being 
stuffed  with  cotton.  These  champions  preceded  the  prince, 
as  whose  body-guards  they  acted.  It  was  not  till  after  this 
time  that  Tippoo  raised  his  celebrated  tiger-regiment,  dis- 
ciplined and  armed  according  to  European  fashion.  Im- 
mediately before  the  prince  came,  on  a  small  elephant,  a 
hard-faced,  severe-looking  man,  by  office  the  distributer  of 
alms,  which  he  flung  m  showers  of  small  copper  money 
among  the  fakirs  and  beggars,  whose  scrambles  to  collect 
them  seemed  to  augment  their  amount ;  while  the  grim- 
looking  agent  of  Mohammedan  charity,  together  with  his 
elephant  which  marched  with  half  angry  eyes,  and  its 
trunk  curled  upwards,  seemed  both  alike  ready  to  chastise 
those  whom  poverty  should  render  too  importunate. 

Tippoo  himself  next  appeared,  richly  appareled,  and 
seated  on  an  elephant,  which,  carrying  its  head  above  all 
the  others  in  the  procession,  seemed  proudly^  conscious  of 
superior  dignity.  The  howdah,  or  seat,  which  the  prince 
occupied  was  of  silver,  embossed  and  gilt,  having  behind  a 
place  for  a  confidential  servant,  who  waved  the  great  chowry, 
or  cow-tail,  to  keep  off  the  flies  ;  but  who  could  also  oc- 
casionally perform  the  task  of  spokesman,being  well  versed  in 
all  terms  of  flattery  and  compliment.  The  caparisons  of 
the  royal  elephant  were  of  scarlet  cloth,  richly  embroidered 
with  gold.  Behind  Tippoo  came  the  various  courtiers  and 
officers  of  the  household,  mounted  chiefly  on  elephantib 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  141 

nil  arrayed  in  their  most  splendid  attire,  and  exhibiting  the 
greatest  pomp. 

In  this  manner  the  procession  advanced  down  the  princi- 
pal street  of  the  town,  to  the  gate  of  the  royal  gardens. 
The  houses  were  ornamented  by  broadcloth,  silk  shawls,  and 
embroidered  carpets  of  the  richest  colors,  displayed  from  the 
verandas  and  windows  ;  even  the  meanest  hut  was  adorned 
with  some  pieces  of  cloth,  so  that  the  whole  street  had  a 
singularly  rich  and  gorgeous  appearance. 

This  splendid  procession  having  entered  the  royal  gardens, 
approached,  through  a  long  avenue  of  lofty  trees,  a  cha- 
bootra,  or  platform  of  white  marble,  canopied  by  arches  of 
the  same  material,  which  occupied  the  center.  It  was 
raised  four  or  five  feet  from  the  ground,  covered  with  white 
cloth  and  Persian  carpets.  In  the  center  of  the  platform 
was  the  musmud,  or  state  cushion  of  the  prince,  six  feet 
square,  composed  of  crimson  velvet,  richly  embroidered. 
By  especial  grace,  a  small  low  cushion  was  placed  on  the 
right  of  the  prince,  for  tlie  occupation  of  the  Begum.  In 
front  of  this  platform  was  a  square  tank  or  pond,  of  marble, 
four  feet  deep,  and  filled  to  the  brim  with  water  as  clear  as 
crystal,  having  a  large  jet  or  fountain  in  the  middle,  which 
threw  up  a  column  of  it  to  the  heiglit  of  twenty  feet. 

The  Prince  Tippoo  had  scarcely  dismounted  from  his 
elephant  and  occupied  the  musnud,  or  throne  of  cushions, 
when  the  stately  form  of  the  Begum  was  seen  advancing  to 
the  place  of  rendezvous.  The  elephant  being  left  at  the 
gate  of  the  gardens  opening  into  the  country,  opposite  to 
that  by  which  the  procession  of  Tippoo  had  entered,  she 
was  carried  in  an  open  litter,  richly  ornamented  with  silver, 
and  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  six  black  slaves.  Her  person 
was  as  richly  attired  as  silks  and  gems  could  accomplish. 

Eichard  Middlemas,  as  the  Begum's  general  or  bukshee, 
walked  nearest  to  her  litter,  in  a  dress  as  magnificent  in 
itself  as  it  was  remote  from  all  European  costume,  being 
that  of  a  hanlca,  or  Indian  courtier.  His  turban  was  of 
rich  silk  and  gold,  twisted  very  hard,  and  placed  on  one 
side  of  his  head,  its  ends  hanging  down  on  the  shoulder. 
His  mustachios  were  turned  and  curled,  and  his  eyelids 
stained  with  antimony.  The  vest  was  of  gold  brocade,  with 
a  cummerhand  or  sash,  around  his  waist,  corresponding 
to  his  turban.  He  carried  in  his  hand  a  large  sword, 
sheathed  in  a  scabbard  of  crimson  velvet,  and  wore  around 
his  middle  a  broad  embroidered  sword-belt.  What  thoughts 
he  had  under  his  gay  attire,  and  the  bold  bearing  which 


142  WA  VEBLEY  NO  VEL8 

corresponded  to  it,  it  would  be  fearful  to  unfold.  Hi& 
least  detestable  hopes  were  perhaps  those  which  tended  to 
save  Menie  Gray,  by  betraying  the  prince  who  was  about 
to  confide  in  him,  and  the  Begum,  at  whose  intercession 
Tippoo's  confidence  was  to  be  reposed. 

The  litter  stopped  as  it  approached  the  tank,  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  which  the  prince  was  seated  on  his  musnud. 
Middlemas  assisted  the  Begum  to  descend,  and  led  her,  deeply 
veiled  with  silver  musline,  towards  the  platform  of  marble. 
The  rest  of  the  retinue  of  the  Begum  followed  in  their 
richest  and  most  gaudy  attire — all  males,  however  ;  nor  was 
there  a  symptom  of  woman  being  in  her  train,  except  that  a 
close  litter,  guarded  by  twenty  black  slaves,  having  their 
sabers  drawn,  remained  at  some  distance  in  a  thicket  of 
flowering  shrubs. 

When  Tippoo  Sahib,  through  the  dim  haze  which  hung 
over  the  waterfall,  discerned  the  splendid  train  of  the  Begum 
advancing,  he  arose  from  this  musnud,  so  as  to  receive  her 
near  the  foot  of  his  throne,  and  exchanged  greetings  with 
her  upon  the  pleasure  of  meeting,  and  inquiries  after  tKeir 
mutual  health.  He  then  conducted  her  to  the  cushion 
placed  near  to  his  own,  while  his  courtiers  anxiously  showed 
their  politeness  in  accommodating  those  of  the  Begum  with 
places  upon  the  carpets  around,  where  they  all  sat  down 
cross-legged,  Richard  Middlemas  occupying  a  conspicuous 
situation. 

The  people  of  inferior  note  stood  behind,  and  amongst 
them  was  the  sirdar  of  Hyder  Ali,  with  Hartley  and  the 
Madras  vakeel.  It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the 
feelings  with  which  Hartley  recognized  the  apostate  Mid- 
dlemas and  the  amazonian  Mrs.  Montreville.  The  sight  of 
them  worked  up  his  resolution  to  make  an  appeal  against 
them,  in  full  durbar,  to  the  justice  which  Tippoo  was  obliged 
to  render  to  all  who  should  complain  of  injuries.  In  the 
mean  while,  the  prince,  who  had  hitherto  spoken  in  a  low 
voice,  while  acknowledging,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  the  services 
and  the  fidelity  of  the  Begum,  now  gave  the  sign  to  his  at- 
tendant, who  said,  in  an  elevated  tone.  "  Wherefore,  and 
to  requite  these  services,  the  mighty  prince,  at  the  request 
of  the  mighty  Begum  Mootee  Mahul,  beautiful  as  the  moon, 
and  wise  as  the  daughter  of  Giamschid,  had  decreed  to  take 
into  his  service  the  bukshee  of  her  armies,  and  to  invest 
him,  as  one  worthy  of  all  confidence,  with  the  keeping  of 
his  beloved  capital  of  Bangalore." 

The  voice  of  the  crier  had  scarce  ceased,  when  it  was  an< 


THE  8 UBGEON '  S  DA  UGHTER  148 

Bwered  by  one  as  loud,  which  sounded  from  the  crowd  of  by- 
gtanders,  *'  Cursed  is  he  who  maketh  the  robber  Leik  his 
treasurer  or  trusteth  the  lives  of  Moslemah  to  the  command 
of  an  apostate  ! " 

With  unutterable  satisfaction,  yet  with  trembling  doubt 
and  anxiety.  Hartley  traced  the  speech  to  the  elder  fakir, 
the  companion  of  Barak.  Tippoo  seemed  not  to  notice  the 
interruption,  which  passed  for  that  of  some  mad  devotee,  to 
whom  the  Moslem  princes  permit  great  freedoms.  The 
durbar,  therefore,  recovered  from  their  surprise ;  and,  in 
answer  to  the  proclamation,  united  in  the  shout  of  applause 
which  is  expected  to  attend  every  annunciation  of  the  royal 
pleasure. 

Their  acclamation  had  no  sooner  ceased  than  Middlemas 
arose,  bent  himself  before  the  musnud,  and,  in  a  set  speech, 
declared  his  unworthiness  of  such  high  honor  as  had  now 
been  conferred,  and  his  zeal  for  the  prince's  service.  Some- 
thing remained  to  be  added,  but  his  speech  faltered,  his  limbs 
shook,  and  his  tongue  seemed  to  refuse  its  office. 

The  Begum  started  from  her  seat,  though  contrary  to  eti- 
quette, and  said,  as  if  to  supply  the  deficiency  in  the  speech 
of  her  officer,  "  My  slave  would  say  that,  in  acknowledgment 
of  so  great  an  honor  conferred  on  my  bukshee,  I  am  so 
void  of  means  that  I  can  only  pray  your  Highness  will  deign 
to  accept  a  lily  from  Frangistan,  to  plant  within  the  recesses 
of  the  secret  garden  of  thy  pleasures.  Let  my  lord's  guards 
carry  yonder  litter  to  the  zenana." 

A  female  scream  was  heard,  as,  at  a  signal  from  Tippoo, 
the  guards  of  his  seraglio  advanced  to  receive  the  closed  litter 
from  the  attendants  of  the  Begum. 

The  voice  of  the  old  fakir  was  heard  louder  and  sterner 
than  before — ''  Cursed  is  the  prince  who  barters  justice  for 
lust !     He  shall  die  in  the  gate  by  the  sword  of  the  stranger.*' 

"  This  is  too  insolent !  said  Tippoo.  "  Drag  forward 
that  fakir,  and  cut  his  robe  into  tatters  on  his  back  with 
your  cTiahouhs." 

But  a  scene  ensued  like  that  in  the  hall  of  Seyd.  All  who 
attempted  to  obey  the  command  of  the  incensed  despot  fell 
back  from  the  fakir,  as  they  would  from  the  Angel  of  Death. 
He  flung  his  cap  and  fictitious  beard  on  the  ground,  and  the 
incensed  countenance  of  Tippoo  was  subdued  in  an  instant, 
when  he  encountered  the  stern  and  awful  eye  of  his  father. 
A  sign  dismissed  him  from  the  throne,  which  Hyder  himself 
ascended,  while  the  officious  menials  hartily  disrobed  him  of 
his  tattered  cloak,  and  flung  on  him  a  robe  of  regal  splendor. 


m  WA VEBLEY  NOVELS 

and  placed  on  his  head  a  jeweled  turban.  The  durbar  rang 
with  acclamations  to  Hyder  Ali  Khan  Behauder,  "  the  good, 
the  wise,  the  discoverer  of  hidden  things,  who  cometh  into 
the  divan  like  the  sun  bursting  from  the  clouds." 

The  Nawaub  at  length  signed  for  silence,  and  was 
promptly  obeyed.  He  looked  majestically  around  him,  and 
at  length  bent  his  look  upon  Tippoo,  whose  downcast  eyes, 
as  he  stood  before  the  throne  with  his  arms  folded  on  his 
bosom,  were  strongly  contrasted  with  the  haughty  air  of 
authority  which  he  had  worn  but  a  moment  before.  "  Thou 
hast  been  willing,"  said  the  Nawaub,  "  to  barter  the  safety 
of  thy  capital  for  the  possession  of  a  white  slave.  But  the 
beauty  of  a  fair  woman  caused  Solomon  ben  Darvid  to  stum- 
ble in  his  path  ;  how  much  more,  then,  should  the  son  of 
Hyder  Naig  remain  firm  under  temptation  !  That  men  may 
see  clearly,  we  must  remove  the  light  which  dazzles  them. 
Yonder  Feringi  woman  must  be  placed  at  my  disposal." 

**  To  hear  is  to  obey,"  replied  Tippoo,  while  the  deep 
gloom  on  his  brow  showed  what  his  forced  submission  cost 
his  proud  and  passionate  spirit. 

In  the  hearts  of  the  courtiers  present  reigned  the  most 
eager  curiosity  to  see  the  denouement  of  the  scene,  but  not  a 
trace  of  that  wish  was  suffered  to  manifest  itself  on  features 
accustomed  to  conceal  all  internal  sensations.  The  feelings 
of  the  Begum  were  hidden  under  her  veil ;  while,  in  spite  of 
a  bold  attempt  to  conceal  his  alarm,  the  perspiration  stood 
in  large  drops  on  the  brow  of  Eichard  Middlemas. 

The  next  words  of  the  Nawaub  sounded  like  music  in  the 
ear  of  Hartley. 

"  Carry  the  Feringi  woman  to  the  tent  of  the  Sirdar 
Belash  Cassim  (the  chief  to  whom  Hartley  had  been  com- 
mitted). Let  her  be  tended  in  all  honor,  and  let  him  pre- 
pare to  escort  her,  with  the  vakeel  and  the  Jiahim  Hartley, 
to  the  Payeen-Ghaut  (the  country  beneath  the  passes),  an- 
swering for  their  safety  with  his  head."  The  litter  was  on 
its  road  to  the  sirdar's  tents  ere  the  Nawaub  had  done  speak- 
ing. "  For  thee,  Tippoo,"  continued  Hyder,  *'  I  am  not 
come  hitlier  to  deprive  thee  of  authority,  or  to  disgrace  thee 
before  the  durbar.  Such  things  as  thou  hast  promised  to 
this  Feringi,  proceed  to  make  them  good.  The  sun  calleth 
not  back  the  splendor  which  he  lends  to  the  moon  ;  and  the 
father  obscures  not  the  dignity  which  he  has  conferred  on 
the  son.  What  thou  hast  promised,  that  do  thou  proceed  to 
make  good." 

The  ceremony  of  investiture  was  therefore  recommenced, 


THE  S  URGEON '  S  DA  UGHTEB  146 

by  which  the  Prince  Tippoo  conferred  on  Middlemas  the 
important  government  of  the  city  of  Bangalore,  probably 
with  the  internal  resolution  that,  since  he  was  himself  de- 
prived of  the  fair  European,  he  would  take  an  early  oppor- 
tunity to  remove  the  new  killedar  from  his  charge  ;  while 
Middlemas  accepted  it  with  the  throbbing  hope  that  he  might 
yet  outwit  both  father  and  son.  The  deed  of  investiture 
was  read  aloud,  the  robe  of  honor  was  put  upon  the  newly- 
created  killedar,  and  a  hundred  voices,  while  they  blessed 
the  prudent  choice  of  Tippoo,  wished  the  governor  good  for- 
tune, and  victory  over  his  enemies. 

A  horse  was  led  forward,  as  the  prince's  gift.  It  was  a 
fine  steed  of  the  Outtyawar  breed,  high-crested,  with  broad 
hind-quarters  ;  he  was  of  a  white  color,  but  had  the  extremity 
of  his  tail  and  mane  stained  red.  His  saddle  was  red  velvet, 
the  bridle  and  crupper  studded  with  gilded  knobs.  Two 
attendants  on  lesser  horses  led  this  prancing  animal,  one 
holding  the  lance  and  the  other  the  long  spear  of  their  patron. 
The  horse  was  shown  to  the  applauding  courtiers, and  with- 
drawn, in  order  to  be  led  in  state  through  the  streets,  while 
the  new  killedar  should  follow  on  the  elephant,  another  pres 
ent  usual  on  such  an  occasion,  which  was  next  made  to  ad- 
vance, that  the  world  might  admire  the  munificence  of  the 
prince. 

The  huge  animal  approached  the  platform,  shaking  his 
large  wrinkled  head,  which  he  raised  and  sunk,  as  if 
impatient,  and  curling  upwards  his  trunk  from  time  to 
time,  as  if  to  show  the  gulf  of  his  tongueless  mouth.  Grace- 
fully retiring  with  the  deepest  obeisance,  the  killedar,  well 
pleased  the  audience  was  finished,  stood  by  the  neck  of  the 
elephant,  expecting  the  conductor  of  the  animal  would 
make  him  kneel  down,  that  he  might  ascend  the  gilded 
howdah  which  awaited  his  occupancy. 

'*  Hold,  Feringi,"  said  Hyder.  *'  Thou  hast  received  all 
that  was  promised  thee  by  the  bounty  of  Tippoo.  Accept 
now  what  is  the  fruit  of  the  justice  of  Hyder. 

As  he  spoke,  he  signed  with  his  finger,  and  the  driver  of 
the  elephant  instantly  conveyed  to  the  animal  the  pleasure 
of  the  Nawaub.  Curling  his  long  trunk  around  the  neck  of 
the  ill-fated  European,  the  monster  suddenly  threw  the 
wretch  prostrate  before  him,  and,  stamping  his  huge  shape- 
less foot  upon  his  breast,  put  an  end  at  once  to  his  life  and 
to  his  crimes.  The  cry  which  the  victim  uttered  was 
mimicked  by  the  roar  of  the  monster,  and  a  sound  like  an 
hysterical  laugh  mingling  with  a  scream,  which  rung  from 
29 


146  WAVEBLEY  NOVELS 

under  the  veil  of  the  Begum.     The  elephant  once  more 
raised  his  trunk  aloft,  and  gaped  fearfully. 

The  courtiers  preserved  a  profound  silence  ;  but  Tippoo, 
upon  whose  muslin  robe  a  part  of  the  victim's  blood  had 
spirted,  held  it  up  to  the  Nawaub,  exclaiming,  in  a  sorrow- 
ful yet  resentful  tone — "  Father — father,  was  it  thus  my 
promise  should  have  been  kept  ?  " 

*'Know,  foolish  boy,'*  said  Hyder  Ali,  "that  the  carrion 
which  lies  there  was  in  a  plot  to  deliver  Bangalore  to  the 
Feringis  and  the  Mahrattas.  This  Begum  (she  started  when 
she  heard  herself  named)  has  given  us  warning  of  the  plot,  and 
has  so  merited  her  pardon  for  having  originally  concurred 
in  it, — whether  altogether  out  of  love  to  us  we  will  not  too 
curiously  inquire.  Hence  with  that  lump  of  bloody  clay,  and 
let  the  hakim  Hartley  and  the  English  vakeel  come  before  me/* 

They  were  brought  forward,  while  some  of  the  attendants 
flung  sand  upon  the  bloody  traces,  and  others  removed  the 
crushed  corpse. 

"  Hakim,''  said  Hyder,  **  thou  shalt  return  with  the 
Feringi  woman,  and  with  gold  to  compensate  her  injuries, 
wherein  the  Begum,  as  is  fitting,  shall  contribute  a  share. 
Do  thou  say  to  thy  nation,  Hyder  Ali  acts  justly.'*  The 
Nawaub  then  inclined  himself  graciously  to  Hartley,  and 
then  turning  to  the  vakeel,  who  appeared  much  discom- 
posed, "You  have  brought  to  me,"  he  said,  "words  of 
peace,  while  your  masters  meditated  a  treacherous  war.  It 
IS  not  upon  such  as  you  that  my  vengeance  ought  to  alight. 
But  tell  the  kafr,  or  infidel,  Paupiah  and  his  unworthy  mas- 
ter that  Hyder  Ali  sees  too  clearly  to  suffer  to  be  lost  by 
treason  the  advantages  he  has  gained  by  war.  Hitherto  I 
have  been  in  the  Carnatic  as  a  mild  prince  ;  in  future  I  will 
be  a  destroying  tempest.  Hitherto  I  have  made  inroads  as 
a  compassionate  and  merciful  conqueror  ;  hereafter  I  will  be 
the  messenger  whom  Allah  sends  to  the  kingdoms  which  He 
visits  in  judgment." 

It  is  well  known  how  dreadfully  the  Nawaub  kept  this 
promise,  and  how  he  and  his  son  afterwards  sunk  before  the 
discipline  and  bravery  of  the  Europeans.  The  scene  of  just 
punishment  which  he  so  faithfully  exhibited  might  be  owing 
to  his  policy,  his  internal  sense  of  right,  and  to  the  ostenta- 
tion of  displaying  it  before  an  Englishman  of  sense  and  in- 
telligence, or  to  all  of  these  motives  mingled  together,  but 
in  what  proportions  it  is  not  for  us  to  distmguish. 

Hartley  reached  the  coast  in  safety  with  his  precious 
charge,  rescued  from  a  dreadful  fate  when  she  was  almost 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  M7 

beyond  hope.  But  the  nerves  and  constitution  of  Menie 
Gray  had  received  a  shock  from  which  she  long  suffered  se- 
verely, and  never  entirely  recovered.  The  principal  ladies 
of  the  settlement,  moved  by  the  singular  tale  of  her  distress, 
received  her  with  the  utmost  kindness,  and  exercised  to- 
wards her  the  most  attentive  and  affectionate  hospitality. 
The  Nawaub,  faithful  to  his  promise,  remitted  to  her  a  sum 
of  no  less  than  ten  thousand  gold  mohurs,  extorted,  as  was 
surmised,  almost  entirely  from  the  hoards  of  the  Begum 
Mootee  Mahul,  or  Montreville.  Of  the  fate  of  that  adven- 
turess nothing  was  known  for  certainty ;  but  her  forts  and 
government  were  taken  into  Hyder's  custody,  and  report  said 
that,  her  power  being  abolished  and  her  consequence  lost, 
she  died  by  poison,  either  taken  by  herself  or  administered 
by  some  other  person. 

It  might  be  thought  a  natural  conclusion  of  the  history 
of  Menie  Gray  that  she  should  have  married  Hartley,  to 
whom  she  stood  much  indebted  for  his  heroic  interference 
in  her  behalf.  But  her  feelings  were  too  much  and  too  pain- 
fully agitated,  her  health  too  much  shattered,  to  permit  her 
to  entertain  thoughts  of  a  matrimonial  connection,  even  with 
the  acquaintance  of  her  youth  and  the  champion  of  her  free- 
dom. Time  might  have  removed  these  obstacles,  but  not 
two  years  after  their  adventures  in  Mysore  the  gallant  and 
disinterested  Hartley  fell  a  victim  to  his  professional  courage 
in  withstanding  the  progress  of  a  contagious  distemper, 
which  he  at  length  caught,  and  under  which  he  sunk.  He 
left  a  considerable  part  of  the  moderate  fortune  which  he 
had  acquired  to  Menie  Gray,  who,  of  course,  did  not  want 
many  advantageous  offers  of  a  matrimonial  character.  But 
she  respected  the  memory  of  Hartley  too  much  to  subdue  in 
behalf  of  another  the  reasons  which  induced  her  to  refuse 
the  hand  which  he  had  so  well  deserved — nay,  it  may  be 
thought,  had  so  fairly  won. 

She  returned  to  Britain — what  seldom  occurs — unmarried 
though  wealthy ;  and,  settling  in  her  native  village,  ap- 
peared to  find  her  only  pleasure  in  acts  of  benevolence, 
which  seemed  to  exceed  the  extent  of  her  fortune,  had  not 
her  very  retired  life  been  taken  into  consideration.  Two  or 
three  persons  with  whom  she  was  intimate  could  trace  in  her 
character  that  generous  and  disinterested  simplicity  and  affec- 
tion which  were  the  groundwork  of  her  character.  To  the 
world  at  large  her  habits  seemed  those  of  the  ancient  Eoman 
matron,  which  is  recorded  on  her  tomb  in  these  four  words, 

DOMUM  MANSIT — LaKAM  FECII. 


MR.  CROFTANGEY'S  COITCLTTSrOK 

If  you  tell  a  good  jest, 
And  please  all  the  rest, 

Comes  Dingiey,  and  asks  you,  "What  was  it?" 
And  before  she  can  know. 
Away  she  will  go 

To  seek  an  old  rag  in  the  closet. 

Dean  Swift, 

While  I  was  inditing  the  goodly  matter  which  my  readers 
have  just  perused,  I  might  be  said  to  go  through  a  course  of 
breaking-in  to  stand  criticism,  like  a  shooting-pony  to  stand 
fire.  By  some  of  those  venial  breaches  of  confidence  which 
always  take  place  on  the  like  occasions,  my  private  flirtations 
with  the  muse  of  fiction  became  a  matter  whispered  in  Miss 
Fairscribe's  circle,  some  ornaments  of  which  were,  I  suppose, 
highly  interested  in  the  progress  of  the  affair,  while  others 
*'  really  thought  Mr.  Chrystal  Oroftangry  might  have  had 
more  wit  at  his  time  of  day.'^  Then  came  the  sly  intima- 
tion, the  oblique  remark,  all  that  sugar-lipped  raillery  which 
is  fitted  for  the  situation  of  a  man  about,  to  do  a  foolish 
thing,  whether  it  be  to  publish  or  to  marry,  and  that  accom- 
panied with  the  discreet  nods  and.  winks  of  such  friends  as 
are  in  the  secret,  and.  the  obliging  eagerness  of  others  to 
know  all  about  it. 

At  length  the  affair  became  so  far  public  that  I  was  in- 
duced to  face  a  tea-party  with  my  manuscript  in  my  pocket, 
looking  as  simple  and  modest  as  any  gentleman  of  a  certain 
age  need  to  do  upon  such  an  occasion.  When  tea  had  been 
carried  round,  handkerchiefs  and  smelling  bottles  prepared, 
I  had  the  honor  of  reading  Tlie  Surgeon's  Daughter  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  evening.  It  went  off  excellently.  My 
friend  Mr.  Fairscribe,  who  had  been  seduced  from  his  desk 
to  join  the  literary  circle,  only  fell  asleep  twice,  and  readily 
recovered  his  attention  by  help  of  his  snuff-box.  The  ladies 
were  politely  attentive,  and  when  the  cat,  or  the  dog,  or  a 
next  neighbor  tempted  an  individual  to  relax,  Katie  Fair- 
scribe  was  on  the  alert,  like  an  active  whipper-in,  with 
look,  touch,  or  whisper,  to  recall  them  to  a  sense  of  what 

148 


THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER  149 

was  going  on.  Whether  Miss  Katie  was  thus  active  merely 
to  enforce  the  literary  discipline  of  her  coterie,  or  whether 
she  was  really  interested  by  the  beauties  of  the  piece,  and 
desirous  to  enforce  them  on  others,  I  will  not  venture  to 
ask,  in  case  I  should  end  in  liking  the  girl — and  she  is  really 
a  pretty  one — better  than  wisdom  would  warrant,  either  for 
my  sake  or  hers. 

I  must  own  my  story  here  and  there  flagged  a  good  deal  ; 
perhaps  there  were  faults  in  my  reading,  for  while  I  should 
have  been  attending  to  nothing  but  how  to  give  the  words 
effect  as  they  existed,  I  was  feeling  the  chilling  conscious- 
ness that  they  might  have  been,  and  ought  to  have  been,  a 
great  deal  better.  However,  we  kindled  up  at  last  when  we 
got  to  the  East  Indies,  although,  on  the  mention  of  tigers, 
an  old  lady,  whose  tongue  had  been  impatient  for  an  hour, 
broke  in  with,  **  I  wonder  if  Mr.  Croftangry  ever  heard  the 
etory  of  Tiger  Tullideph  V  and  had  nearly  inserted  the 
whole  narrative  as  an  episode  in  my  tale.  She  was,  however, 
brought  to  reason,  and  the  subsequent  mention  of  shawls, 
diamonds,  turbans,  and  cummerbands  had  their  usual  effect 
in  awakening  the  imaginations  of  the  fair  auditors.  At  the 
extinction  of  the  faithless  lover  in  a  way  so  horribly  new,  I 
I  had,  as  indeed  I  expected,  the  good  fortune  to  excite  that 
expression  of  painful  interest  which  is  produced  by  drawing 
in  the  breath  through  the  compressed  lips — nay,  one  miss 
of  fourteen  actually  screamed. 

At  length  my  task  was  ended,  and  the  fair  circle  rained 
odors  upon  me,  as  they  pelt  beaux  at  the  carnival  with  sugar- 
plums, and  drench  them  with  scented  spices.  There  was 
"Beautiful,''  aud  *' Sweetly  interesting,''  and  "0,  Mr. 
Croftangry,"  and,  **  How  much  obliged,"  and  ''  What  a 
delightful  evening,"  and  '*  0,  Miss  Katie,  how  could  you 
keep  such  a  secret  so  long  ! "  While  the  dear  souls  were 
thus  smothering  me  with  rose-leaves,  the  merciless  old  lady 
carried  them  all  off  by  a  disquisition  upon  shawls,  which 
she  had  the  impudence  to  say  arose  entirely  out  of  my  story. 
Miss  Katie  endeavored  to  stop  the  flow  of  her  eloquence  in 
vain  :  she  threw  all  other  topics  out  of  the  field,  and  from 
the  genuine  Indian  she  made  a  digression  to  the  imitation 
shawls  now  made  at  Paisley  out  of  real  Thibet  wool,  not  to 
be  known  from  the  actual  country  shawl,  except  by  some 
inimitable  cross-stitch  in  the  border.  "It  is  well,"  said 
the  old  lady,  wrapping  herself  up  in  a  rich  Kashmire,  "  that 
there  is  some  way  of  knowing  a  thing  that  cost  fifty  guineas 
from  an  article  that  is  sold  for  five ;  but  i  venture  to  say 


150  WAVERLET  NOVELS 

there  is  not  one  out  of  ten  thousand  that  would  understand 
the  difference." 

The  politeness  of  some  of  the  fair  ladies  would  now  havfl 
brought  back  the  conversation  to  the  forgotten  subject  of 
our  meeting.  "  How  could  you,  Mr.  Croftangry,  collect 
all  these  hard  words  about  India — you  were  never  there  ?** 

"No,  madam,  I  have  not  had  that  advantage  ;  but,  like 
the  imitative  operatives  of  Paisley,  I  have  composed  nn 
shawl  by  incorporating  into  the  woof  a  little  Thibet  wool 
which  my  excellent  friend  and  neighbor.  Colonel  Mackerria 
one  of  the  best  fellows  who  ever  trod  a  Highland  moor,  o, 
dived  into  an  Indian  jungle,  had  the  goodness  to  supply  mc 
with." 

My  rehearsal,  however,  though  not  absolutely  and  al- 
together to  my  taste,  has  prepared  me  in  some  measure  for 
the  less  tempered  and  guarded  sentence  of  the  world.  So  a 
man  must  learn  to  encounter  a  foil  before  he  confronts  a 
sword ;  and  to  take  up  my  original  simile,  a  horse  must  be 
accustomed  to  a  feu  de  joie  before  you  can  ride  him  against 
a  volley  of  balls.  Well,  Corporal  Nym's  philosophy  is  not 
the  worst  th  *t  has  been  preached,  *'  Things  must  be  as  they 
may."  If  my  lucubrations  give  pleasure,  I  may  again  require 
the  attention  of  the  courteous  reader  ;  if  not,  here  end  the 

Oheonicles  of  the  Canongatb. 


■I7D  OF  THE  surgeon's  DAUGHTER. 


APPENDIX  TO  INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE  SURGEON'S  DAUGHTER 


Mb.  Tbain  was  requested  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  to  give  him  in  writing  the  story 
as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  shape  in  which  he  had  told  it ;  but  the  following 
narrative,  which  he  drew  up  accordingly,  did  not  reach  Abbotsford  until  July 
1832:— 

In  the  old  stock  of  Fife  there  was  not  perhaps  an  individual  whose  exertions 
were  followed  by  consequences  of  such  a  remarkable  nature  as  those  of  Davie 
Duff,  popularly  called  the  "Thane of  Fife,"  who,  from  a  very  humble  parentage, 
rose  to  fill  one  of  the  chairs  of  the  magistracy  of  his  native  burgh.  By  industry 
and  economy  in  early  life,  he  obtained  the  means  of  erecting,  solely  on  his  own 
account,  one  of  those  ingenious  manufactories  for  which  Fifeshire  is  justly 
celebrated.  From  the  day  on  which  the  industrious  artisan  first  took  his  seat  at 
the  council  board,  he  attended  so  much  to  the  interests  of  the  little  privileged 
community,  that  civic  honors  were  conferred  on  him  as  rapidly  as  the  set  of  the  * 
royalty  *  could  legally  admit. 

To  have  the  right  of  walking  to  church  on  holyday,  preceded  by  a  phalanx  of 
halberdiers,  in  habiliments  fashioned  as  in  former  times,  seems,  in  the  eyes  of 
many  a  guild  brother,  to  be  a  very  enviable  pitch  of  worldly  grandeur.  Few  per- 
sons were  ever  more  proud  of  civic  honors  than  the  Thane  of  Fife,  but  he  knew 
well  how  to  turn  his  political  influence  to  the  best  account.  The  council,  court, 
and  other  business  of  the  burgh  occupied  much  of  his  time,  which  caused 
him  to  entrust  the  management  of  his  manufactory  to  a  near  relation  whose 

name  was  D ,  a  young  man  of  dissolute  habits  ;  but  the  Thane,  seeing  at  last 

that,  by  continuing  that  extravagant  person  in  that  charge,  his  affairs  would,  in 
all  probability,  fall  into  a  state  of  bankruptcy,  applied  to  the  member  of  Parlia- 
ment for  that  district  to  obtain  a  situation  for  his  relation  in  the  civil  depart- 
ment of  the  state.  The  knight,  whom  it  is  here  unnecessary  to  name,  knowing 
how  effectually  the  Thane  ruled  the  little  burgh,  applied  in  the  proper  quarter, 

and  actually  obtained  an  appointment  for  D in  the  civil  service  of  the  East 

India  Company. 

A  respectable  surgeon,  whose  residence  was  in  a  neighboring  village,  had  a 
beautiful  daughter  named  Emma,  who  had  long  been  courted  by  D .  Imme- 
diately before  his  departure  to  India,  as  a  mark  of  mutual  affection,  they  ex- 
changed miniatures,  taken  by  an  eminent  artist  in  Fife,  and  each  set  in  a  locket, 
for  the  purpose  of  having  the  object  of  affection  always  in  view. 

The  eyes  of  the  old  Thane  were  now  turned  towards  Hindostan  with  much  anx- 
iety ;  but  his  relation  had  not  long  arrived  in  that  distant  quarter  of  the  globe 
before  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  a  letter,  conveying  the  welcome  mtel- 
ligence  of  his  having  taken  possession  of  his  new  station  in  a  large  frontier  town 
of  the  Company's  dominions,  and  that  great  emoluments  were  attached  to  the 
situation ;  which  was  confirmed  by  several  subsequent  communications  of  the 
most  gratifying  description  to  the  old  Thane,  who  took  great  pleasure  in  spread- 
ing the  news  of  the  reformed  habits  and  singular  good  fortune  of  his  intended 
heir.  None  of  all  his  former  acquaintances  heard  with  such  joy  the  favorable 
report  of  the  successful  adventurer  in  the  East  as  did  the  fair  and  accomplished 
daughter  of  the  village  surgeon  :  but  his  previous  character  caused  her  to  keep 
her  own  correspondence  with  him  secret  from  her  parents,  to  whom  even  the 

circumstance  of  her  being  acquainted  with  D was  wholly  unknown,  till  her 

father  received  a  letter  from  him,  in  which  he  assured  him  of  his  attachment 

•  The  constitution  of  the  borough, 
151 


152  APPENDIX  TO  INTRODUCTION 

to  Emma  long  before  his  departure  from  Fife  ;  that,  having  been  so  happy  as  t« 
gain  her  affections,  he  would  have  made  her  his  wife  before  leaving  his  native 
country,  had  he  then  liad  the  means  of  supporting  her  in  a  suitable  rank  through 
life  ;  and  that,  having  it  now  in  his  power  to  do  so,  he  only  waited  the  consent 
of  her  parents  to  fulfil  the  vow  he  had  formerly  made. 

The  doctor  having  a  large  family,  with  a  very  limited  income  to  support  them, 
and  understanding  that  D had.  at  last  become  a  person  of  sober  and  indus- 
trious habits,  he  gave  his  consent,  in  which  Emma's  mother  fully  concurred. 

Aware  of  the  sti'aitened  circumstances  of  the  doctor,  D remitted  a  sum  of 

money  to  complete  at  Edinburgh  Emma's  Oriental  education,  and  fit  her  out  in 
her  journey  to  India  ;  she  was* to  embark  at  Sheerness,  on  board  one  of  the  Com- 
pany's ships,  for  a  port  in  India,  at  which  place,  he  said,  he  would  wait  her  ar- 
rival, with  a  retinue  suited  to  a  person  of  his  rank  in  society. 

Emma  set  out  from  her  father's  house  just  in  time  to  secure  a  passage,  as 
proposed  by  her  intended  husband,  accompanied  by  her  only  brother,  who,  on 

their  arrival  at  Sheerness,  met  one  C ,  an  old  schoolfellow,  captain  of  the  ship 

by  which  Emma  was  to  proceed  to  India. 

It  was  the  particular  desire  of  the  doctor  that  his  daughter  should  be  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  that  gentleman,  from  the  time  of  her  leaving  the  shores  of 
Britain  till  the  intended  marriage  ceremony  was  duly  performed  on  her  arrival 
in  India— a  charge  that  was  frankly  undertaken  by  the  generous  sea-captain. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  fleet  at  the  appointed  port,  D ,  with  a  large  cavalcade 

of  mounted  Pindarees,  was,  as  expected,  in  attendance,  ready  to  salute  Emma  on 

landing,  and  to  carry  her  direct  into  the  interior  of  the  country.    C ,  who  had 

made  several  voyages  to  the  shores  of  Hindostan,  knowing  something  of  Hindoo 
manners  and  customs,  was  surprised  to  see  a  private  individual  in  the  Company's 

service  with  so  many  attendants  ;  and  when  D declined  having  the  marriage 

ceremony  performed,  according  to  the  rites  of  the  church,  till  he  returned  to  the 

place  of  his  abode,  C ,  more  and  more  confirmed  in  his  suspicion  that  all  was 

not  right,  resolved  not  to  part  with  Emma  till  he  had  fulfilled,  in  the  most  satis- 
factory manner,  the  promise  he  had  made  before  leaving  England,  of  giving  her 
duly  away  in  marriage.    Not  being  able  by  her  entreaties  to  alter  the  resolution 

of  D ,  Emma  solicited  her  protector  C to  accompany  her  to  the  place  of  her 

intended  destination,  to  which  he  most  readily  agreed,  taking  with  him  as  many 
of  his  crew  as  he  deemed  sufficient  to  ensure  the  safe  custody  of  his  innocent 
protege,  should  any  attempt  be  made  to  carry  her  away  by  force. 

Both  parties  journeyed  onwards  till  they  arrived  at  a  frontier  town,  where  a 
native  rajah  was  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  fair  maid  of  Fife,  with  whom  he  had 
fallen  deeply  in  love,  from  seeing  her  miniature  likeness  in  the  possession  of 

D .  to  whom  he  had  paid  a  large  sum  of  money  for  the  original,  and  had  only 

entrusted  him  to  convey  her  in  state  to  the  seat  of  his  government. 

No  sooner  was  this  villainous  action  of  D known  to  C than  he  commu- 
nicated the  whole  particulars  to  the  commanding  officer  of  a  regiment  of  Scotch 
Highlanders  that  happened  to  be  quartered  in  that  part  of  India,  begging  at  the 
same  time,  for  the  honor  of  Caledonia  and  protection  of  injured  innocence,  that 
he  would  use  the  means  in  his  power  of  resisting  any  attempt  that  might  be 
made  by  the  native  chief  to  wrest  from  their  hands  the  virtuous  female  who  had 
been  so  shamefully  decoyed  from  her  native  country  by  the  worst  of  mankind. 
Honor  occupies  too  large  a  space  in  the  heart  of  the  Gael  to  resist  such  a  call  of 
humanity. 

The  rajah,  finding  his  claim  was  not  to  be  acceded  to,  and  resolving  to  en- 
force the  same,  assembled  his  troops,  and  attacked  with  great  fury  the  place 
where  the  affrighted  Emma  was  for  a  time  secured  by  her  countrymen,  who 
fought  in  her  defence  with  all  their  native  valor,  which  at  length  so  overpowered 
their  assailants,  that  they  were  forced  to  retire  in  every  direction,  leaving  be- 
hind many  of  their  slain,  among  whom  was  found  the  'mangled  corpse  of  the 
perfidious  D . 

C was  immediately  afterwards  married  to  Emma,  and  my  informant  as- 
sured me  he  saw  them  many  years  afterwards,  living  happily  together  in  the 
county  of  Kent,  on  the  fortune  bequeathed  by  the  "  Thane  of  Fife." 

J.  T. 

Castle  Douglas,  July^  1833. 


INDEX 


Author's  Introduction,  xviii 

Bangalore,  137 

Barak  el  Hadgi,  101  ;  sought  by  Hartley, 

1&4 
Begum  Mootee.    See  Montreville 
Butler,  Mr.,  military  chaplain,  108 

Capstern,  Captain,  111 

Cara  Razi.  102 

Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  Introduc- 
tion to,  V 

Croftangry,  Mr.,  his  Preface,  v ;  his 
Conclusion,  148 

Degial,  102 

Doctor,  of  Scottish  village,  1 
Dowrah,  native  guide,  129 
Duff,  Davie,  Thane  of  Fife,  151 

East  India  Company,  71 

Elder  Comedy,  7 

Esdale,  Mr.,  Surgeon,  110, 127 

Fairscribk,  James,  ix 
Fairscribe,  Katie,  viii,  xvi,  148 
Fairscribe,  Mr.,  vi,  148 
Ferguson,  Colonel  James,  xviil,  150 
Fort  St.  George,  Madras,  98 

Galatian,  26 

Ghauts,  of  Mysore,  128 

Golconda,  47 

Goodriche,  Roman  Catholic  priest,  7 

Gray,  Gideon,  3  ;  receives  Zilia  MonQada, 
5  ;  interview  with  her  father,  12 ;  takes 
charge  of  Middlemas,  17  ;  his  talk  with 
Lawford,  19 ;  interview  with  Middle- 
mas, 27  ;  separates  him  and  Hartley, 
41  ;  his  death,  113 

Gray,  Menie,  prototype  of,  xiv,  151  ; 
birth  of,  21  ;  attachment  to  Middle- 
mas, 23  ;  at  the  Hunters'  Ball,  37  ;  left 
by  Middlemas,  59 ;  interview  with 
Hartley,  113 ;  the  plot  against  her, 
119, 123  ;  begs  Hartley  to  help  her,  126  ; 
set  at  liberty,  144 ;  returns  to  Scot- 
land, 147 

Gray,  Mrs.,  3 ;  her  prejudices  against 
Zilia  Mongada.  6  ;  talk  with  Lawford, 
19  ;  gives  birth  to  Menie,  21 

Hartley,  Adam,  34  ;  quarrels  with  Mid- 
dlemas, 39,  43  ;  rescues  him  from  the 
hospital,  69 ;  cures  General  Wither- 
ington'g  children,  76 ;  asks  his  inter 


153 


est  for  Middlemas,  TT ;  discussion  with 
Middlemas,  89  ;  attends  Barak  el  Had- 
gi, 101  :  recognizes  Menie,  107 ;  inter- 
view with  her,  113.  sets  off  to  rescue 
Menie,  126  ;  interview  with  Barak,  134; 
arrives  at  Bangalore,  138  ;  dismissed 
by  Hyder  Ali.  146  ;  his  death,  147 
Hillary,  Tom,  28,  31  ;  as  recruiting  cap- 
tain, 50  ;  takes  Middlemas  to  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  61 
Hospital,  military,  at  Ryde,  63 
Hyder  Ali,  71  ;  disguised  as  a  fakir,  135  ; 
interrupts  Tippoo's  audience,  144 

India,  xvii ;  golden  dreams  of,  47,  51 ; 
recruiting  for,  50.    See  further  Madras 

Introduction,  Chrystal  Croftangry's,  to 
Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  v  ;  Au- 
thor's to  Surgeon''s  Daughter,  xviii 

Jamieson,  Nurse,  7,  22 ;  fondness  for 

Middlemas,  25,  30 
Jaup,  Alison,  4 

Lawford,  town-clerk,  14  ;  talk  with  the 

Grays,  19 
Louponheight,  Laird  of,  37 

M'FiTTOCH,  dancing-master,  34,  88 

MacErries,  See  Ferguson,  Colonel 
James 

Madras,  society  at,  98  ;  Black  Town,  113 

Mercer,  Major,  107 

Messenger,  king's,  12 

Middlemas,  Richard,  birth  of,  7  ;  taken 
charge  of  by  Gideon  Gray,  17  ;  attach- 
ment to  Menie  Gray,  23  ;  interview 
with  Gideon  Gray,  27  ;  compared  with 
Hartley,  34  ;  quarrels  with  him^  39, 43 ; 
consults  Hillary,  52 ;  demands  his 
property,  58  ;  parts  from  Menie  Gray, 
59  ;  in  the  military  hospital.  63  ;  ap- 

Beals  to  Seelencooper,  66  ;  rescued  by 
[artley,  69  ;  interview  with  his  par- 
ents, 83 ;  claims  his  inheritance,  89 ; 
at  3Iadras,  98 ;  conversation  with 
Madame  Montreville,  119;  conspires 
with  Paupiah,  122  ;  at  Bangalore,  141 ; 
trampled  to  death,  145 

Middlemas  village,  3  ;  Hunters'  Ball,  37 ; 
Stevenlaw's  land,  39 ;  Swan  Inn,  50, 
52 

Moncada,  Mathias  de,  12 ;  claims  his 
daughter,  16  ;  refuses  to  acknowledge 
his  grandson,  25 

Monsada,  Zilia  de,  brought  to  Gideoo 


154 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Gray's  5 ;  gives  birth  to  a  son,  7 ; 
claimed  by  her  father,  16  ;  leaves  her 
son  with  Gideon  Gray,  17  ;  anxiety  for 
her  children,  74  ;  interview  with 
Middlemas,  84 ;  her  death,  85  ;  her  life- 
story,  93 
Montreville,  Adela,  105,  108;  denies 
Menie  Gray  to  Hartley,  112  ;  her  con- 
versation with  Middlemas,  119  ;  meet- 
ing with  Tippoo,  141 ;  future  history. 


Park,  Mungo,  traveller,  2 
Paupiah,  122 

Queen    of   Sheba.     See    Montreville, 
Adela 

Ryde,  Isle  of  Wight,  72 

Sadhu  Sing,  story  of,  130 
Sadoc.    Siee  Middlemas,  Ricliard 
Saleth,  Prophet,  103 
Schiller,  Robbers^  xii 


Seelencooper,  hospital  superintendeni 

65,  70 
Seringapatam,  132 
Shawls,  Indian,  149 
Simson,  Jean,  4 
Small-pox,  treatment  of,  74 
Surgeon,  Scottish  country,  1 
Surgeon's  Daughter.    See  Gray,  Menie 
Surgeon's  Daughter,  the  novel,  xviii,  1 

Tamson,  or  Thomson,  Peg,  4 

Thane  of  Fife,  151 

Tippoo,  Prince,  124  ;  at  Bangalore,  189 

Tram,  Joseph,  xviii ;  his  story  of  the 

Thane  of  Fife,  151 
Tresham,    Richard,    5.      See   further 

Witherington,  General 

Vakeel,  government  agent,  128 

Walker,  Rev.  Robert,  vii 

Winter,  servant,  73,  87 

Witherington,  General,  72  ;  his  childrett 
cured,  76  ;  interview  with  Middlema«^ 
84 ;  his  frantic  passion,  86 ;  his  Uffr 
Story,  m 


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